Old Agent (Work in Progress)

He sensed a little stress. He was joyful he popped a Xanax. He flipped open the white laptop with the bitten apple on it. He was greeted by a female robotic voice.


Voice commanded passwords to unlock small foldable computers made him realize how old 74 was. Back at the agency they told him most criminals use retina scanners to secure their laptops and voice commands were outdated. He was older than outdated.

“It is required,” the voice said after a few moments.

He reached into the deep pocket of his navy wool slacks and pulled out a thin black writing pen. He clicked the button at the top.

“I love America,” It played in a heavy Mexican accent with a sarcastic tone.

He loved spy gear especially the old school stuff. It was good to know some things didn’t change. The display became bright and colorful as cute kids appeared on the screen. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular stick. He stuck it into a slot on the side of the computer. Back at the office they made him practice this part over and over until he knew what to do without thinking about it.

The nerdy kid back at the office said it would work but now he had his doubts. Technology always failed at the most opportune time. His Iphone was always dying when he needed to call Lucinda but he also never charged the thing. He always forgot. He looked around the huge office and noticed it was more like a library. He wondered if the books were in Spanish or English. He was in a random mansion in west El Paso at a fundraising event acting like he was interested in buying old San Elizario Salt War artifacts when he got the call. The plan was set in motion. He was doing his part to protect his country once again. 25% the box showed. He felt like it was moving slow but what does he know.

The doors to the office were pushed. He froze. He didn’t hear any noise. Maybe somebody just bumped the large wooden doors. He wiped a drop of sweat that fell from his wrinkled forehead. He got his phone ready just in case someone broke the locks and budged in. He could at least act like he was on an important call. The beauty of being old and overweight was no one ever expected much. He looked over the huge office and saw more pictures of the kids. Too bad their dad was a terrorist and the CIA caught wind of his plan to assassinate Trump. They sent him, a old retired military veteran, to get Intel. 35% the box showed. They didn’t know he took Xanax a little too often. He never took too many and his PTSD was still strong even at his age. In the briefing, they mentioned his family had one of the largest farms in the county and in Mexico. To him that meant cartel connections and that meant endless connects to money, power, and underworld respect.

He guessed as an volunteer/old man that swiping the information from the guy’s office was more effective than any other kind of mission. 45% flashed. He wondered who orchestrated such a beautiful plan in such little time then he wondered if it was going too perfectly. Now he was bored. Technology made being an agent too easy. There was no thrill. He wasn’t even allowed to carry a gun for heaven’s sake. Maybe he should have took half a pill instead of the whole one. He was too relaxed.


His body jumped. A female voice came from outside the doors.

“Oh no,” he mouthed.

50%. The doors wobbled.

“Is someone in there? I left my purse in there. When are these doors ever locked?”

She was talking to herself more than him.

“Security?” She yelled. He looked at the computer. 52%

He fake dialed anyone and snatched the stick out of the computer.

“Boom!” One of the doors swung open.

His heartbeat started racing and he felt a flashback coming on. His worst fear was coming truth. The agency said nothing would trigger his issue but who could anticipate some bitch forgetting her purse.

He took out the USB as fast as he could and shut the screen. With the cell phone up to his ear, him and the lady locked eyes. He saw alarm in her face.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s