Agent Vixen Collection

by Jay Aury

  “Alright, alright. Two and a half hours from now. Off Magpie Alley. A small coffee shop there. Don’t forget to bring a coat. Raining buckets out there.”

  Audra exhaled heavily with relief. “Alistair, thank you. You’re a life saver!” Her expression grew smoky. “Next time I see you, I’ll be sure to give you a special reward.”

  “Hm. Looking forward to it. Ciao.”

  As he hung up Audra let the phone drop onto the bed. She rose and stretched, hurrying towards the closet. She needed to get dressed ASAP. The Director always seemed disproving, but lateness was one thing he absolutely loathed. Only Alistair seemed to get away with it, but that was mainly because you didn’t know if he was there or not until the bag lady sitting on the next seat whipped off her wig to show the curly brown underneath.

  In the end, haste had her fling on some new lacy undergarments (she was to meet Alistair afterwards), a low cut dress that showed her breasts to the greatest of advantage, and a long dark trench coat.

  She hurried out of the hotel and into the pounding rain, flagging down a passing cab. She ducked inside, settling in the seat and giving him directions. She watched London’s streets pass by distantly, hands clasped on her lap. She sighed, rubbing her head as her headache threatened to make a comeback. As the cab pulled up by the café she popped another aspirin and stepped out, crossing the street and into the shop.

  In retrospect, she should have known something was wrong the minute she opened the door.

  It wasn’t obvious. Such things never were in the high stakes world of espionage. It was in a subtle thing. The way the waitress looked her way and nodded familiarly, despite her never being there before. The way the barista gave her a curious look, one he wouldn’t have given just any customer.

  But Audra didn’t think about it. She was used to stares and the familiar motions of men. She’d wonder about it later. But then, at the moment that she walked into the private booth in the corner, she had other things on her mind.

  The Director sat in his seat in the gloom, staring at the cup of coffee before him. His greying hair was gathered around him, his aged face blank, bristly mustache drooping. Before him, laid along the table, was a rose.

  “Why Director,” Audra said sweetly as she slid into the seat opposite, plucking up the rose. She put it under her nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance. “For me? I didn’t know you cared.”

  The Director said nothing. Something dripped from his forehead into his coffee cup.

  Audra’s smile slipped away. Unease tightened her chest. “Director.” She leaned forward, reached out and gently touched his shoulder.

  The Director fell back into his seat, his head lolling against the back of his chair. Audra jerked back, a strangled cry escaping her at the sight of the bullet hole in his forehead.

  Before she could process it there was a gasp. Audra whipped about to see the waitress there, two cups of coffee in hand. The woman stared at the director, her smile gone, her eyes widening in horror.

  Audra was already moving when the woman screamed. She pushed past the waitress, racing out of the booth. The bell over the door chimed mockingly as she sped out the door and into the street.

  Sirens screamed and she froze as a dozen police cars swarmed out of the rain, screeching to a halt before the café. Men in uniform surged out of the cars, weapons raised, trained on her.

  “Get down!” one shouted at her. “Hands up and get down on the street!”

  Audra stared at them, stunned.

  “Now!”

  She slowly raised her hands. A terrible clarity filled her as she slowly bent her legs, getting onto her knees on the rough pavement. The shouting voices of the police buffeted her and the rain drummed on her head and the pavement around her.

  How had they gotten there so fast?

  And as her arms were wrenched behind her and the cold feel of the cuffs locked onto her wrists, she glanced at the rose fallen to the pavement in the struggle, and knew.

  She’d been set up.

  Observations

  From across the street, in the shadows of a tech store’s awning, Alistair Smith watch Audra be shoved into a police cruiser. He tucked down his hat, sliding a little nearer the barricades. He shifted his gait, plastering on an expression of mild curiosity like all the others idling near the scene, chatting speculatively about what had happened. He skimmed near the edges of the crowd, catching sight of a tearful waitress speaking rapidly to an officer in a checkered jacket striped with white.

  “… and then she came back in. I heard a bang. I thought it was a car backfiring, so I kept coming with the drinks they ordered and then… and then…”

  “Did you see her shoot him?” the officer asked.

  “No! But when I got there she was sitting across from him again. She had to have done it! No one else sat down there!”

  Alistair felt his body go numb. He kept walking, eyes staring in a daze until he reached the opposite street. He glanced back, just in time to see the police cruiser pull away. A glimpse through the glass of Audra in the back, her face dull with shock.

  Alistair frowned. In silence, he slipped away into the darkness of an alley.

  Accusations

  They kept her waiting in the interrogation room a full three hours before the door opened. Audra tensed, watching the two who entered take a seat at the far end of a metal table. The pair were similar in the bland looks of professional bureaucrats. Their suits tailored and pressed without a wrinkle, ties cinched to their collars and tucked into the jackets. The only difference was one was a woman and the other a man. Even their Stetson hats looked near the same as they took a seat, clasping their hands before them.

  A third man, his uniform proclaiming him an officer of the precinct, hung back in the corner, arms folded as he watched the proceedings.

  “And who are you?” Audra said to the pair. Her mood, understandably, wasn’t the best. Her hair had dried in a frizzy tangle and her eyes were wary and hostile.

  “Good evening, Miss Antoinette,” the woman said. “My name is Miss Deer. This is Mister Doe. We are special agents of NATO’s investigative branch.”

  Audra tensed, fingers tightened on the table. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “An interesting perspective,” Mister Doe said. “Considering that we have a lot to say you’ve done a great deal. Don’t we, Miss Deer?”

  “That we do, Mister Doe,” Deer said. “That we do. CCTV has you entering the restaurant, Madame. Eye witnesses have you sitting in the booth and meeting with the deceased. The only real question is, why come back?”

  “Excuse me?” Audra said.

  “You left, Miss Antoinette. Then returned. We are already preparing to search the hotel you’re staying at. We’ll soon have all the evidence we need. Don’t we, Mister Doe.”

  “That we do, Miss Deer.”

  “By the time I got there,” Audra said firmly, “he was already dead.”

  The pair looked at each other. Like mirrors they raised an eyebrow in tandem before turning back to her. “You can make this easier on yourself. Can’t she, Mister Doe?”

  “She can indeed, Miss Deer. Perhaps she doesn’t understand the scale of her situation. We have her gun. The bullet is doubtless going to match. We have the keys to the hotel you were staying at and the number. In the interest of security, we have had it secured, and we are going to search it imminently. Do yourself a favour. Was he your lover? What? Did he reject you?”

  Audra laughed bitterly. “As if he would.”

  The pair’s expressions grew darker. "I don't think she appreciates the severity here, Mister Doe."

  "No she does not, Miss Deer."

  "Shall we edcuate her?"

  "Teach her?"

  "Instruct her?"

  "No." Miss Deer rose. “Come, Mister Doe. Let’s give her time to think while we go through her things. Do wait for us to return, Miss Antoinette. We won’t be long.”

  “No indeed,” Mister Doe said as he rose. “And pl
ease. Think very hard on what you’ll want to say next.” The pair straightened their trim jackets in perfect unison, turned and stepped out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

  As they left the officer against the wall glanced at her indifferently. The glaring fluorescent lights hummed through the stillness. He reached into a pocket and drew out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one. He shook the pack. “Want one?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “Alright.”

  He moved towards the table, fetching a phone out of his pocket. Audra watched, tensing slowly as he dialed a number. She’d been interrogated before. Done it too. What was the game? What would he try next?

  He put down the phone before her. The screen blinked, and a face took shape. One that made her blood run cold.

  It was a face of an older man, his features harsh like they’d been chopped out of a block of wood. He had a swarthy Spanish look and a sharply defined goatee. One of his eyes were hidden behind a patch, the other pinning her with cold interest. He wore an epaulet capped jacket like some casual general of the Spanish wars a century gone, and on his shoulder there bobbed a brightly coloured parrot.

  “Audra Antoinette,” he said, his clipped voice crackling through the speakers.

  “Sylvester Sterling,” she breathed.

  “I am glad you remember me. This will make matters more expedient. As you may have guessed, you have been entrapped. The events occurring in the café were orchestrated by our organization.”

  “ARM,” Audra murmured, hands tightening on the table. She’d only learned of the organization recently, heard from the lips of a mad Nazi and Raphael, her frequent lover and occasional ally.

  “Indeed,” Sterling said. “That you know of us is partly why we are now here. We are aware you have been privately seeking evidence concerning our operations. That you have gathered a fair amount. Hearsay mostly. But enough to potentially inconvenience our organization. You and your G7 have proven an irritant. One which I have decided to no longer tolerate.”

  “I’ll tell-“

  “You’ll tell no one,” Sterling said flatly. “The world will believe you have shot your Director. The files on ARM stored in your computer have been doctored. They will show you believed the Director to have been a part of a shadowy cabal that doesn’t exist. That paranoia drove you to a sudden frantic effort of murder. With his death, G7 as an entity ceases to exist. Every major agency your Director worked with will believe you were an assassin led by rabid paranoia. Anything you claim, anything you say, will be disbelieved. The evidence you have gathered will be filed away. A dead end of a mad woman. Any further investigation into ARM will be rife with second guessing and suspicion.”

  A terrible chill settled over her. She realized with horror how completely she had been entrapped. NATO and every international agency would believe her a traitor. Even the nameless members of G7 would think so. And ARM itself was even more secure. Even more hidden behind a screen of conspired lunacy. “You bastard,” she hissed.

  “There is no reason for anger, Miss Antoinette. You sought to play the game of espionage against our organization.” Sterling leaned forward, his one eye hard. “But ARM does not play games. A fact you, unfortunately, failed to appreciate.”

  “Squawk! Take it up the ass! Squawk!” the parrot screeched.

  “I’ll kill you, Sterling,” Audra snarled.

  Sterling cocked his head. “No. In a minute’s time you will be found dead. You will have attempted to attack Officer Tenin here and try to take his gun. It will be unfortunate that you are killed during the scuffle. Shot. Officer Tenin will be cleared. The footage from the cameras will, unfortunately, have blanked for a five minute interlude. No evidence of this conversation will be seen, and NATO will be glad to put this unfortunate incident behind them. Farewell, Agent Vixen.”

  “Sterling!” she shouted as the screen died.

  Audra looked up as Tenin slowly moved, pushing away from the wall. The large man cracked his knuckles lazily, moving his head and popping his neck. “Shame,” he muttered as he unholstered his gun.

  The door slammed open.

  Tenin turned, staring at a man in the doorway. Dressed in a drab black suit and tie, he wore an American Flag on his lapel and his face was smoothed in dry dutifulness. Tenin’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you?”

  The newcomer looked at her. Audra stiffened, seeing those familiar eyes, sensing in some way beyond simple observation who it was.

  Alistair!

  His eyes took in the room with a flash, locked on the officer. He shut the door behind him and flashed a badge. “Agent Morrin of MI6. Put your gun away.”

  "MI... That was a Subway club card," Tenin said incredulously.

  "No it wasn't," Alistair said, tucking his badge away.

  Audra saw decision in Tenin's eye. He swung the gun towards Alistair.

  She didn’t hesitate a second. She kicked the metal table with all her strength. Its legs squealed across the metal floor, the edge slamming into Tenin’s waist. The man grunted, knocked off his feet to crash into the wall. His gun went off, wild. Alistair ducked, rushing him. He slammed the other man into the wall again. Alistair grabbed Tenin’s hand, smashing it against the cement. Tenin grunted in pain. His finger convulsed, shooting another bullet into the ceiling before his grip loosened, service pistol falling to the ground with a clatter.

  Audra threw herself from her chair as the two men struggled. She grabbed the gun, rebounding back to her feet. Tenin threw Alistair off of him and spun towards her.

  The gun kicked in her hand, the sound deafening in the confined space of the room. Tenin staggered back, hit the wall with a thud. He looked blankly at the blood already staining his chest, then slowly slumped down to the floor.

  Audra slowly lowered the gun, her breathing easing. She heard Alistair come up behind her and she looked up into his face.

  “You… came,” she said dully.

  “Hugs later. We have to get you out of here.”

  The reality of the situation hit her like a punch to the gut. She looked back down at Tenin with a grimace. “How?”

  The click of cuffs were her first warning, then the weight on her wrists. She looked down at her shackled wrists in alarm. “What are-“

  “Confidence, Audra. Now come on. We have to hurry. These rooms are soundproof but I don’t want to wait for those two idiots to come back.”

  He grabbed her, taking the gun from her hand and tucking it into a pocket. Audra bristled, then sighed. “Wait!” she said just before he opened the door. He glanced back at her, giving her a questioning look as she snatched up the phone off the table. Tucking it into her pocket, she rejoined him. Alistair didn’t say anything as he opened the door and hastily shut it behind them. Audra looked down, schooling her face with an expression of dim dismay.

  It wasn’t hard to fake. Her heart was in her throat and the halls seemed to stretch to an eternity. Police went by, their gleaming boots all she saw. She didn’t dare look them in the face. She kept her eyes down, staring at the floor grimly. Expecting any second a shout. Any instant a demand she stop. Alistair held her arm tightly, marching onward. She stole a peek at his face, and saw in it the firm command of a man of authority.

  “Confidence, Audra,” her grandfather had once told her. “Confidence can get you through the most brazen things. If you can’t show a belief in your own certainty, no one will believe you. And they want to, Audra. People have their own lives to worry about. Walk with pride and the damn certainty you’re doing the routine. Make it look like dealing with you is more trouble than they want.”

  They nearly reached the door when a voice shouted, “Stop!”

  Audra froze. Her heart hammered as Alistair turned to see a young man in an officer’s checkered vest approach. “Where’s she going?”

  “Transfer. NATO has special holding facilities for her. We thank you and your staff for their cooperation.”

  “They do?”
>
  “Here.” Alistair whipped something from his pocket, showing it to the young man.

  Audra flexed her fingers into fists. Could they run? Oh yes. Brilliant. Run in a station filled with cops. That’d look wonderful. They’d get two steps before being riddled with bullets.

  The man inspected Alistair’s paperwork, but with a flutter of hope, saw he wasn’t paying too much attention. The seal and Alistair’s grave expression was making him nervous. He made a show of looking it over, then passed it back. “Right. Well. Best of luck.”

  “Good,” Alistair said, tucking the documents back into his pocket. He shoved Audra forward.

  And then they were outside.

  Not even escaping Castle Hammerstein felt so good to Audra at that moment. She even ignored the rain drumming off her head as Alistair walked her down the steps then pushed her into a dark car. He ducked in behind her and started the engine. With a rumble, he pulled out, and sped off down the road.

  The Safehouse

  She didn’t recognize the hotel. Not a surprise really with London’s sprawl. Hidden in the lower east side of the city, the room was so small the tiny bathroom’s door didn’t even open all the way without hitting the bed. But they took cash, asked no questions, and didn’t look closely at her.

  Audra took a seat on the bed and Alistair closed the door with some effort. He’d taken off her cuffs, but hadn’t given back the gun. For a moment he stood, staring at the door. Audra watched his back, again a sense of unease creeping over her like the shadow of a spider’s web.

  At last Alistair turned. He pulled up the lone chair in the room and took a seat, facing her. She noticed he was still holding the gun. He looked her in the eye. “Tell me what happened.”

  Audra bit her lower lips, chewing it uncertainly. Then, steeling herself, she explained as best she could.

  In grim silence Alistair listened. Never interrupting. Simply absorbing her every word, his eyes watching her face for any hint of a lie. She told him everything she could. All she knew of ARM. Coming into the café. Seeing the Director. The arrest. Doe and Deer’s interview, and the meeting on the phone.