ONE MISSION: A SPY SHORT STORY
by
TY’RON W. C. ROBINSON II
The sound of two gunshots echoed through the darkness. The end of the hallway was difficult to see through without some form of light. Coming through the dark was a figure. Human-shaped.. The figure continued to grow as it made each step forward.
Walking out of the dark area was a spy agent. Lean-figured, dressed in a casual suit with no tie. His focus was keen on the mission. The hallway in front of him had lit up with lights upon the walls and the rooms are closed. Silent and calm. Coming from around the corner into the hallway is Trevor moved through the hall with pace. He reaches the elevator and enters. Going up toward the eighth floor. The agent waited as the elevator made its move. The steady stop and as the doors slid open, the Agent saw two well-dressed men standing in the hall, guarding a room. The Agent has found what he’s searching for. He backed up to avoid being spotted. He reached down toward his side, revealing his Ruger LCP. Raising it slowly, prepared to fire. Before he continued his act, he glanced over to the wall in front of him, seeing a fire alarm. He paused. Thinking. He moved swiftly, pulling down the alarm and setting it off through the hall.
“The hell?” One of the men said.
“What do we do now?” The second man questioned.
“We keep this door secured. Nothing else matters right now.”
“You’re sure the alarm won’t trigger anyone to come up this floor?”
“For what reason would anyone come up here uninvited? They want to die early?”
From the other rooms on the floor bolted out hotel guests. Many of them. They make their way toward the stairs and the hallway is crowded. The Agent took a look, catching the hallway filled and the two men were still guarding the door. The guards themselves have their hand on their firearms for precaution. The Agent moved through the crowd without a misstep, placing a silencer over the muzzle to his Ruger. The Agent took the first shot before ducking down in midst of the crowd, The shot had killed one of the men as his body fell to the ground in the middle of the moving crowd. His partner turned over to look and noticed he wasn’t standing on the other side.
“Where’d you go? We’re on duty.”
The Agent moved in closer as the hallway showed itself becoming empty. The Agent took the second shot, killing the second guard without fail. The Agent paused. He scouted the hallway, finding no one in sight besides the two dead guards. He nodded and opened the door. He walked into the room with his firearm in hand. Seeing it decorated with shelves of books, candles, and fancy décor. The Agent knew whomever had a room like this had the resources to acquire it. Discovering himself facing who’s he come for. The target had been found. There was a man sitting at a desk, drinking a glass of scotch.
“Patrice O’Haire.” The Agent said.
Patrice gestured his finger and from both side of the room emerged three more guards. Each with their firearms aimed at the Agent. The Agent glared toward each one of them, showing only an expression of a grin.
“If I only knew you were coming sooner I would’ve poured you a glass.”
“Save yourself the favor. I’ll drink after the mission is complete.”
Patrice chuckled, laying back in the chair.
“You spies. You’re all the same, you know. Always snooping around in others’ business. A bit nosy don’t you think. Strangely enough, you always wonder why no one wants to take a moment and leave you guys be.”
“I’m not here to chat.”
“I know. I know.” Patrice smiled. “Tell me please, why have you come to see me? What is it this time that has soured those on the opposite sides of the work?”
“You know what you’ve done.” The Agent answered. “No need in repeating past words to rekindle your memory.”
Patrice grunted.
“Again with this kind of talk. Do they teach you these words in your training. My goodness! All business and no fun.”
“You forget the work of a spy. The mission is always the fun part.”
“Sounds depressing.” Patrice sighed. “Must be some kind of life, huh?”
“It has its benefits.”
“Indeed.” Patrice nodded.
Patrice signaled his guards to prepare to fire. The Agent knew the movements well, keeping his eyes locked on Patrice while watching closely the motion of the guards. Six to one. The Agent was confident in his abilities to succeed. Regardless of the numbers.
“Any last words, Patrice?”
“Just a few.” Patrice said, turning over to the guards. “Take him.”
The Agent gestured his eyes over to the opposite wall, noticing a fire extinguisher. He shot the extinguisher, shrouding the entire room in a fog. From there, he moved with silence throughout the room. The guards scattered themselves searching while Patrice remained at the desk, sitting down with concern.
“Shit!” Patrice yelled with a panic. “Find him! Kill him!”
The guards weren’t able to see the Agent, yet he knew through the fog where the guards were placed. The scenery reminded him of target practice. From there, the Agent fired shots toward each of them without a single stop in his step. Only the sounds of thuds were heard through the white fog. Patrice couldn’t see a thing, waving his hand in the air. The fog had cleared, Patrice found his desk surrounded by his guards, now dead on the floor, bleeding into the carpet. The Agent however, was standing in front of Patrice over the desk.
“I’m not going to repeat my last words.”
Patrice jumped up from the chair, running out of the room toward the door to the hallway. The Agent followed him out.. Patrice made a move to the elevator, even though the fire alarm was still buzzing. The Agent watched as Patrice panicked at the elevator with fear. Patrice stood by the elevator, vigorously pressing the button and yet, the elevator doors do not open. Patrice took another look behind, seeing the Agent walking toward him. Patrice fell on his knees, looking down in terror. The Agent removed the silencer
“This was the only way.” The Agent said.
The Agent fired the shot, shooting Patrice in the head. Afterwards, the Agent placed his gun into its holster and reached for his phone. He dialed a number. Someone had answered on the other end.
“The mission is done. I’m on my way.”
The Agent hung up, leaving the body of Patrice on the floor. The fire alarm had silenced just as the Agent pressed the elevator button and the doors opened. Going down to the first floor. The Agent made his way outside the hotel. He walked toward a silver sports car parked near the entrance. Taking out the keys from his jacket pocket, he entered the car. Driving from the hotel. The Agent drove through the streets, not far out from him was the city of Vancouver. The Agent took a turn, making his way toward the city’s airport.