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"Jack I'm home!" Alex called, throwing his school bag on the ground by the door and running up the stairs to his room.
"Hold on a second! What's the rush?" Jack Starbright called from the kitchen.
"Game's on!" He called back. The sound of a soccer stadium filled the house as he turned up the volume.
"Boys." Jack chuckled, setting down her book as a knock sounded from the door. "Alex, turn it down, someone's at the door!" Jack called, getting off the kitchen stool and walking to the front hall to answer it. As soon as Jack saw who it was, she almost slammed the door closed again.
"What do YOU want?" She hissed.
"Alex." Mr. Alan Blunt said simply.
"He's not here." Jack sniffed.
"I just saw him come in, Jack." he sighed.
"Jack? Who is it?" Alex called from up the stairs. Jack sighed and let him in.
A few hours of manipulation and threats later, Alex was being shoved into a helicopter. As they took off, he recapped his conversation with Mr. Blunt. Apparently, one of MI6's agents had been captured during a mission, and Blunt seemed eager to get them back. Or her, Alex corrected himself. Agent Summers. If MI6 let a 14 year old boy risk his life for them, Agent Summers was likely a 70 year old woman, who lived with an army of cats. Alex chuckled at the thought.
Nora had given up on the handcuffs. They weren't going to come loose, no matter how hard she banged them against the floor. If she kept this up any longer, her hands were going to fall off. She sighed and slumped against the wall.
This is embarrassing. She though bitterly. Eleven years on the job, and I still get CAUGHT.
(First Person [sorry, I'm not good at writing in third person])
"Lokt 'er!" One of the guards chuckled. "All flustered and such." The other added. The first to speak kneeled down by the bars of my cell.
"'Uo wanna get out?" He mocked, dangling the keys through the bars. I eyed them, trying to determine the chances I had to reach it before he pulled them back. They weren't good. I glared at him. It had no effect, of course. He was huge, 6'3 at least, with the body build of a pro wrestler, and I was a scrawny teenage girl who hadn't eaten in days, which was not working to my advantage. "Oh! We got's som'thin for you!" He said, pulling the keys back. "It's a bit late, but who's gunna know?" He smirked, dropping a bowl of dark muddy material into the cell. It tipped sideways, and half the contents spilled out. The two guards burst into laughter, walking out of the room. I shuffled towards the bowl. I cursed myself for resisting when I was captured. This resulted in having my hands handcuffed behind my back. I twisted until I had gotten both my legs through my arms. I flipped the bowl back. It WAS food. A carrot, potato…and other things I couldn't categorize. I got as much of it back into the container an ate. It left a sour aftertaste, but any food was better than no food. Halfway through my meal, I got kind of dizzy. Probably because my stomach isn't used to this food. I thought. But would that make me dizzy?
"Sugar, I'm baacckk!" The second guard said. He unlocked the cell door and walked towards me in long strides. I scooted away, putting my cuffed hands up to protect myself. The guard pulled my arms down, shoving me down into the ground. I struggled against his hold, and apparently, he didn't like that. He kneed me in the chest. I ooff'd and lay still, trying to catch my breath.
"Good night." He sneered. I felt a small prick on my neck, and darkness followed.
(Alex)
This was probably the seventh time I had gone through the floor map of this building. She wasn't in the basement, and she wasn't on the ground floor. Nor on the second, third, or fourth. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. This is more trouble than I though it would be. I was under a table on the fourth floor, so I had three floors to go, two of which were cluttered with guards.
"McGaplin! Have you injected her?" Some one called.
"Yah. Still put up a fight, the little bitch." The person I assumed was McGaplin said. I could see his boots from underneath the table cover. I shuffled closer to the wall quietly, away from the men, but still in ear short.
"What else do expect from an MI6 agent?" The other guard chuckled. "If this keeps up, well have to add more security to the sev-" Their voices where cut off by the elevator. I almost ran out from my hiding place and kissed him. The seventh floor! I peeked out from under the table, no one in sight. I rolled out, leaving the floor plans. I didn't need them now. Up the stairs. Fifth, sixth… I opened the door to the seventh floor a crack, peaking through it before I opened it all the way. I looked around in awe. The seventh floor was an open space, save a long wall of metal with one single door. I walked towards it cautiously and put my ear against the sold metal. No sound. I tried the knob out, half hoping it would work, half knowing it wouldn't. To my intense surprise, the door swung open smoothly. Inside was pitch black, save the light coming from a medium sized window on my left, illuminating a small section of the inside of what looked like a cell. I could barely make out a form on the ground. I found her! I walked forward until I felt the cold bars, then the door. I rummaged through my pockets until I found the zit cream. I squirted some on the lock, or what felt like it anyways. The door creaked, but didn't budge. I frowned. Backing up, I kicked the general location of the lock. Nothing happened at first, but then the door swung sideways at an awkward angle. I bolted into the cell, towards the figure on the ground. I could make out her face in the dark, but who else would it be? I examined the window outside the cell. There didn't seem to be anything protecting it. I could fit though, and I'm sure I could push Agent Summers through as well. I brought up a fist and smashed it into the glass. I let out a hiss of pain as the glass cracked. I wound back and snapped my arm forwards again. This time it broke through all the way, letting in the smell of the ocean that surrounded the building. I glanced down. The waves lapped against the side of the building, a perfect place to jump from. A bang outside the metal room sent me five feet into the air in surprise.
"Crap!" I hissed, jumping back into the cell and dragging Agent Summers towards the window.
"In there!" Someone shouted. Footsteps were coming towards us quick. I hauled her up and trough the window, and followed after. As we fell, I grabbed on to her, preventing her from banging into the side of the building. Gun shots sounded from above us. I covered her head and mine, and seven stories later, we plunged into the water. I swam us out as far as I could before resurfacing. I looked around desperately for the fishing boat that was supposed to be waiting for us. Sounds of multiple boat engines sounded from the direction of the building. I didn't dare look back, but kept swimming forward, looking for our boat. As if on cue, it appeared on my right. I swam the three feet in between us, and grabbing the edge, I helped the fisherman haul Agent Summers on. A soon as we had set foot on the boat, the fisherman was running around, starting the engine again, and getting us the hell out of there. I checked the woman's pulse. It was really slow. I pushed her hair out of her face, and almost doubled over in shock. This was NOT a crazy cat lady super agent. She couldn't of been older than 15. Her breathing was coming out shallow and irregular, and her lips were turning blue.
"Do you have an oxygen tank?" I called to the fisherman.
"Down below!" He yelled, swerving to the left sharply to the left to lose the black boats that were coming after us. I grabbed on to the edge of the boat, but Nora rolled to the right, smashing her head into a crate. I cursed and pulled her down the stairs to the bottom of the ship. I grabbed an oxygen tank and pried her mouth open, sticking the mouth piece in. A bruise was starting to form above her left eyebrow. After a couple of minutes, I checked her pulse again, and to my relief, it was getting regular. I smeared the zit cream on the scratched handcuffs. She'd obviously tried to get them off. I lay her on the fisherman's cot, watching over her as the boat swerved us out of the danger.
