Agent with a History (13 page)

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Authors: Guy Stanton III

Tags: #thriller suspense, #action adventure, #thriller adventure, #dystopian climate change romance genetic manipulation speculative post apocalyptic, #romance action adventure, #dystopian adventure, #dystopian teen ya young adult romance love conspiracy government

BOOK: Agent with a History
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“I thought we lost them?” I said, slightly
out of breath, as I tried to keep up with him.

“We did! This is somebody else.” He replied
tersely.

A man stepped out of an alcove ahead of us
with an assault rifle, and instead of shooting him, Flint threw his
handgun, which clocked the guy senseless. Flint retrieved his gun
and tossed the man’s riffle into some piles of trash.

The man started to stir and Flint kicked him
viciously in the head. The man was out cold. I was seeing a
different side of Flint than I had seen before, but had suspected
was there. He had a savage side, but then so did I.

A radio on the man’s side started crackling
with foreign voices. Something similar to German I thought. Flint
picked up the radio and listened. The voices ended as somebody
appeared to be asking a question. There was silence and then the
question was repeated. Gruffing his tone some, Flint responded in
the language perfectly and then broke into a staged excited
monologue that had voices coming back to him over the radio
excitedly. He said something more and then dropped the radio and
pulled me along after him to where the side alley opened into a
busy market street.

Several white guys suddenly appeared, all
running down the street past us, pushing their way through the
crowd. Flint waited a moment and then pulled me along after him, in
the opposite direction the men had taken. Flint must have led them
off the trail, with whatever he had said.

We split across several busy streets, got
honked at by cars and roundly cursed as well. It would have been
quite exciting if it wasn’t for the fear of a bullet with my name
on it crashing into the back of my skull. We ended out on a less
busy street and Flint stopped at a pay phone and started calling
someone.

“Who were those guys? What were they
speaking?”

“Swiss.” He responded.

“Swiss!” I exclaimed. “What would they be
after the treasure for?”

He gave me a look that said I wasn’t having
an especially bright day and I wondered what I had missed.

“I suppose you’re one of those individuals
who thinks that the Swiss banks, out of innocence and honest
intentions, held onto vaults full of Nazi treasure, which was
mostly stolen from Jews, well after World War II was over. Imagine
a major banking center such as Switzerland, with its own version of
Midas’s touch. What kind of global control do you think they could
exert?”

Now that he put it in that way it made a lot
more sense, why the Swiss of all people might be involved in the
treasure hunt. If they were involved, who else was? I listened to
Flint on the phone.

“Frank, it’s Flint. I’m calling in that favor
you owe me. What kinds of assets do you have in Barcelona?”

He stood there for a few moments listening to
whoever he was on the line with. “I appreciate this Frank! Could
you go ahead and call the port authority so no suspicions are
raised?”

More listening and then Flint said, “Thanks
old friend.” And hung up the phone.

He started off down the street at a fast clip
and I hurried to catch up, “Where are we going?”

“The harbor.” Was all he said.

It took us three hours to get there, when it
should have only taken an hour. We had to double back and go out of
our way several times to avoid search patrols.

The whole city seemed to be alive with people
searching for us. I would never have made it through such a
man-search alone and have remained uncaught, with only my limited
evasion skills to go on. Flint, however, was a master at it and he
helped me keep my cool and not panic.

We reached the wharf and then we made our way
along the marina. The boats at dock changed from old fishing
trawlers, which looked like they would sink in a weak eddy, to more
expensive looking yachts.

Near the entrance of a private marina, Flint
stopped. There was heavy security and we weren’t going to be able
to slip past them without being noticed. Flint was looking farther
out in the harbor, his eyes squinted in concentration.

He pointed at a yacht far offshore by itself,
“That’s it. That’s the Siren’s Call. We’ll have to swim out to
it.”

I stepped back from the dark water of the
harbor unconsciously. “Couldn’t we get a small boat to get to
it?”

He turned to me and something in my face must
have alerted him to the apprehension I felt for the dark water of
the bay.

“Didn’t you swim all the way from your
father’s island to shore? I know you can swim.” He said, cautiously
feeling me out.

“It was a bad experience! I nearly died and
it was night, everything was dark! The water was dark and something
brushed past me and I thought I was going to be eaten! Just like my
mother was!”

Flint’s strong arms came around me and held
me against his chest. His words came softly right beside my
ear.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,
I promise!”

I drew back slightly and he said, “I’m
especially not going to let a sea monster get you!”

“How can you promise that?” I asked, a little
hysterically, as he stepped back from me and kicked his shoes off
and slipped over the side into the dark waters of the harbor.

He held a hand up to me and said, “I won’t
let anything happen to you Lisa, but we have to make this swim. I
won’t leave you alone out there.”

My fingers clenched into fists, but I kicked
my shoes off and slipped into the water beside him. I don’t know
why, but ever since this man had come into my life I had been made
to face each and every one of my old fears.

I really wished that cycle would stop! But
even though being in this dark water was bad, Flint was there
helping me in the midst of my nightmare. He always seemed to be
doing that. What would I ever do without him?

We started off. I didn’t really focus on how
far the distant yacht was from us. I only looked to see where Flint
was. As long as I could see him splashing along beside me I was
okay or at least functional. Fear closed around me like an icy
prison and as time wore on I could feel its grip on me draining me
of all my energy. Panic started to settle in.

I wasn’t going to make it! Dimly, I heard
shouting and I glanced at him to see him gesture ahead and I
glanced there too. The yacht was close. I could make it a little
farther, I thought. We bumped into the side of the yacht and then
Flint was gone.

I was alone and in the panic of that thought
my body locked up and I began to sink. Strong hands grabbed a hold
of me and I was jerked up out of the water to the deck of the
yacht, as water streamed off of me.

I was so cold! My teeth were chattering so
hard I thought they would rattle out of my head. Flint swung me up
into his arms and I latched onto his shirt front like he was a life
preserver, which in a way he had come to be for me. Suddenly, he
put me down and hot water began to course down my back and it
shocked me so much that I half screamed and latched onto Flint
tighter.

“Sshh, its just hot water. It’s a
shower.”

I looked around and saw the shower stall for
myself and in complete embarrassment I started to cry.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” I mumbled out
over and over through my tears keeping my head ducked down against
his chest.

“Whoa! Whoa! Time out!”

He pulled my chin up to stare into my face
with concerned eyes, “What are you apologizing for, honey?”

“I’m always crying around you! I almost never
cried in my life before you came along and now I’m just a bucket of
tears all the time! You must think I’m the weakest, most emotional
woman you’ve ever met!”

I tried to duck my head back down again, but
he wouldn’t let me. “Lisa, you are perhaps the bravest and most
courageous woman I have ever met!”

“Yeah right!”

“I’m serious! How many women cursed with the
hellish upraising that you were stuck with could make such a
success out of themselves. With nothing to your name and no support
you made yourself into one NY’s finest detectives. And you haven’t
let the journey up from the bottom corrupt you either. You’re an
honorable, decent and courageous young woman. And, as far as crying
goes, tears don’t make you weak. Maybe the reason why you haven’t
cried much before in your life is because you haven’t felt safe
enough to let go. Your safe with me and I think you know it. Do I
look like I mind you blubbering all over me? Heck no! It just gives
me another excuse to hold your awesome body against me.”

I couldn’t help the little spurt of laughter
that erupted. He cocked his head to the side, “You laugh, but it’s
darn hard to let go of you girl!”

Humor faded from me and was replaced with
seriousness, “When this is all over, what’s going to happen with
you and me?”

His gaze turned serious too, “Have you ever
been fishing?”

My eyebrows quirked up, “What kind of
question is that?”

“I’m serious! Have you ever been
fishing?”

“Yes.” I said, not knowing where this was
leading.

“Did you keep the fish?”

I’d only been fishing once with a group of
college friends. My brow wrinkled at the memory, “No, they made me
throw it back into the pond. I really wanted to eat that fish
too!”

“I feel the same way you do about fishing.
You and I are kind of like that. I found you, I caught you and I’m
never letting you go!”

“You really mean that?” I whispered
breathlessly.

“I do. Now finish your shower sexy little
fish, while I get us away from this city, before our continued
health and happiness are threatened any further.”

He stepped back out of the shower and I
watched him go reluctantly. I felt all warm and gooey inside and it
had nothing to do with the warm water pounding on my back.

I stripped my sodden clothes off and finished
my shower, grateful to wash the filth of the harbor away. I stepped
out and dried off with some nearby towels. Now for some clothes.
This didn’t look like the main cabin so I might be out of luck. I
checked the drawers first. Nothing. I went to a small armoire and
opened it.

“Oh my!”

Before me was quite the array of lingerie,
everything from not so modest to downright bare.

“Are you serious?” I exclaimed.

The only clothes for women onboard the ship
was this collection? What kind of man exactly was this friend of
Flint’s?

I invaded the room across from mine to find
it fully stocked with men’s clothing. I got a shirt and a pair of
pants, which I had to hold up with a belt. I made my way topside in
time to see the harbor fading away behind us. I found Flint at the
helm and his eyebrows quirked up at the sight of my baggie
attire.

I answered the unasked question of why,
“Apparently your friend prefers his lady friends to prance around
his ship in nothing except what’s acceptable in a stripper
joint.”

Flint shook his head wryly, “Yeah, that about
describes Frank.”

“Your friend literally just lets you borrow a
several million dollar yacht, when you call him up and ask him for
it?”

“How much is a life worth? I’ve saved his on
several occasions and gave him a tip once that paid off in the
purchase of several yachts larger than this one, if he wanted to
upgrade.”

“Still, how are you going to return it?”

“I won’t be. If your moral fibers are rising
indignantly about it, I’ll see that he gets another one.”

I studied him for a long moment, “Just how
rich are you?”

“Enough.” he responded with a half smile.

“Where are we going?”

“Morocco. If all goes to plan, I’ll pick up a
plane there from an acquaintance.”

“Another largess borrow?” I quipped.

“No, this time I’m going to steal what I need
and you’re going to help me.”

My jaw fell open.

“If it makes you feel any better, stealing
the plane will cut down on the drug trafficking for a few
days.”

 

Chapter Thirteen
Ready for More

Two days went by in which we saw no one. On
the third day our destination began to appear and before long we
were coming inland toward the small jetty, where a drug runner
lived, where I was supposed to help Flint steal a plane.

Moralities of justice were beginning to
become skewed. Was it really so wrong to steal from a drug runner?
Surely that was a permissible sin, if there was such a thing.
Wincing, I grimly doubted it.

Flint was walking toward me and he had a very
sheepish look about him and I watched him curiously as he drew
closer. Something was crumpled up in his fist and I knew what it
was. I had been waiting for this moment ever since I’d gotten on
board. He looked very uncomfortable as he stood in front of me.

He wouldn’t even meet my eyes, which was very
unlike him. “We’ll be there soon. These are pretty rough
characters. They’ll likely try to kill me just for sport, but when
they see you they’ll kill me just to have you. We have to kill or
injure them first, if we plan to get out of here alive. They won’t
try to kill us right at first; Benito likes to talk too much for
that. That will be our chance to take them out. The problem is that
Benito will have one or two of his men off to the sides that I
won’t be able to take out and still deal with those of them that
are in front of us. I need you to take the out runners out of
play.”

I nodded.

He swallowed hard and continued, “To help us
pull this off a distraction could be useful. Now, just by yourself
normally dressed you’re a distraction, but…” He looked away like he
didn’t want to continue.

I reached out and took his hand and tugged on
the fabric he held within it.

“It’s all right, I’ll do it.”

He looked back at me, “No, it’s not! You’re a
lady and I don’t like making you appear to be a slut!”

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