Agent 69- Stroken, Not Stirred

by Callista Hawkes

  “You can’t do this!” Kruger tells you, his eyes wide with fear as he strains every sinew to pull himself forward. “I’m the richest man on the planet!”

  “I think your stocks are about to plummet.” You tell him before savagely shoving him over the railing. His screams of terror echo around the silo, as does a sickening thud a moment later.

  “Let’s finish this.” You tell Anya, helping her back to her feet. You turn and study an instrumentation panel on the wall. “If we can somehow lock the silo doors from here…” A gunshot booms out from behind you, your ears ringing while a fine mist of brown fluid rains down on you. You turn around, a smoking gun in Anya’s hand.

  “Or we could just shoot the hydraulic pipe feeding the doors.” She shrugs with a wry smile.

  “That will do it.” You grin. “How long until the missile launches?”

  “Two minutes James!” Anya tells you, checking her watch. “We’re not going to get away in time. The explosion will rip this whole place apart.”

  “Kruger’s helicopter.” You tell her. “If we hurry, we can be airborne before the missiles explode.” Anya nods and you turn to leave. As your footsteps clank on the gantry, you notice several grate covers over exhaust vents in the silo wall. Perhaps that might get you out quicker.

  Prise a grate off and throw yourselves into the exhaust vent

  Take the elevator to the top of the facility and fly off in Kruger’s helicopter

  “Quickly!” You shout at Anya as you sprint down the corridor back towards the stairwell at the far end. She runs next to you, glancing at her watch as you reach the stairwell. You scramble up the stairs, climbing two at a time, your pulse racing.

  “Less than a minute!” Anya tells you.

  “We’ll make it.” You reply, panting, your lungs on fire. You burst through a door and stumble out into daylight, the suspended flat square surface of the helipad before you. A vacant helipad. You feel your blood run cold.

  “No, no!” Anya cries out as you scan the sky. You can see the tiny silhouette of the helicopter disappearing into the distance. You curse, looking about you for an alternative escape route. A deep rumble shakes the helipad as the countdown reaches zero.

  “It’s too late!” Anya tells you, her voice flat and deflated as she fears the worst. Muffled explosions echo from deep within the facility below and the helipad trembles violently, the steel structure creaking in protest.

  “We’re not done yet.” You reply, but as the helipad begins to lurch to one side, you both struggle to keep your footing.

  “Well, at least the mission was successful.” Anya tells you grimly as thick acrid smoke pours from the stairwell. More explosions, louder and closer now, boom out and the structure supporting the helipad begins to fail, the steelwork creaking in protest. You both lose your footing as the helipad rips apart and collapses in on itself, Anya screaming in terror as she slips through the tear. You manage to hold on a moment longer before you too plummet to your death.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  “Mademoiselle Marceau!” You reply, cautiously glancing over your shoulder. The attractive Frenchwoman is just as beautiful as your first encounter in Johannesburg. This time she is dressed in an elegant, figure hugging blue dress with a plunging neckline revealing her tanned cleavage while a slit up the side of her skirt reveals a tantalising glimpse of a slender leg. Diamonds dangle from her ears and sparkle at her throat. Her long dark hair is immaculately styled, falling past her shoulders in gentle spirals. “You look absolutely enchanting, or should I say captivating?”

  “Your charm will not work a second time.” She tells you, pressing the gun firmly into your back. “I really should escort you straight to Kruger. He would no doubt have an imaginative though unpleasant death planned for you.”

  “Oh?” You reply, detecting her resolve wavering. You hear a barely audible sigh as she realises her slip.

  “Hugo can be a demanding and aggressive partner.” She tells you. “And his plans, while ambitious, are high risk. It’s a volatile situation I have no intention of being at the epicentre of if things go wrong. Fortunately for you, not only do you offer an alternative, but our brief dalliance in Johannesburg has somewhat whetted my appetite.”

  “That’s very flattering.” You grin, though the muzzle of her weapon is still pressed firmly into your back.

  “It should be.” She replies with typical Gallic aloofness. “So Monsieur Hazard, are you ready to set a wayward girl back on the road to redemption?”

  It's not like you have much of a choice

  You don’t trust this sudden change of heart. Attempt to disarm her

  “I don’t think so!” You reply, whirling around and flailing for the gun. Bérénice had obviously anticipated the move and rocks back out of reach, your hand grasping nothing but thin air.

  “How disappointing.” She sighs before swinging the butt of the gun hard into the side of your skull. You wince, shocked at both the grace of her evading manoeuvre and the ferocity of the blow before crumpling unconscious to the floor.

  Continue

  “I like to think of myself as a positive influence.” You reply. You feel the weapon leave your back and slowly turn to face Bérénice. She still has the gun aimed at you, but is noticeably more relaxed.

  “Good.” She replies. “Kruger plans to cement his influential position by using the threat of a nuclear strike to control the governments that have so far managed to resist him. He’s going to launch the first missile at Washington DC within the hour to prove he’s not bluffing!”

  “Then we have no time to lose.” You tell her. “Which way to the control room?”

  “This way.” She tells you, lowering her weapon. You follow her down a corridor leading further into the depths of the facility. “What’s your plan?”

  “We’ll try to cancel the missile launch and then sabotage the control room.” You tell her. “Then we’ll deal with Kruger.”

  “You’re going to kill him?” Bérénice asks quietly.

  “A likely outcome.” You admit. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No.” She sighs after a moment. “He’s been good to me in his own way, but he has become increasingly cruel and erratic.”

  “Good.” You reply. “Now, which way to the control room?”

  A few minutes later, you step inside a large though deserted control room with banks of controls laid out before you. Your gaze is drawn to huge screens dominating the room. The stolen nuclear missiles are shown in their silos and are clearly ready for launch. A large timer on the wall is counting down. 27:12.

  “Less than half an hour.” You murmur, studying the controls before you. “We haven’t much time.”

  “You know,” Bérénice purrs, leaning into you, her lips brushing your ear, “I’ve watched Hugo at the controls in here like a child with a new toy. I know exactly which controls cancel the launch.”

  “Well?” You reply impatiently. “I’m waiting with baited breath!”

  “Oh no monsieur,” She chuckles sexily, “You’ll have to persuade me a bit better than that.” She moves between you and the console and drapes her arms around your neck, gazing up into your eyes, her full lips pouting.

  “We really don’t have time for this.” You tell her.

  “Au Contraire.” She replies. “We have enough time. If you want my help.”

  Submit to her whims

  You have no time for games. Find the controls yourself

  You push her away from you, pressing buttons at random and hoping something works. All the time the timer relentlessly counts away the seconds as you begin to run out of time. You keep glancing up at Bérénice, who leans against the wall and casually files her nails, an enigmatic smile on her face.

  “Damn it woman, this is no time for a manicure!” You growl at her, your frustration boiling over as the timer drops below eight minutes. “Millions of lives are at stake!” She shrugs, putting
the file away and examining her nails. Exasperated, you turn back to the controls, pressing button after button, but nothing seems to work.

  “Warmer.” Bérénice purrs as your hand drifts over a particular console.

  “Warmer.” She continues as your hands skim over nearby controls.

  “Hot.” Your hand hovers over a transparent flap over a large red button. You flip open the flap and rest your fingers on the red button.

  “Red hot.” She smiles. You glance at the timer. 06:37. You take a deep breath and press the button. Klaxons sound and the timer suddenly drops rapidly to zero. There is a deep rumbling and the room shakes. Your eyes widen as you watch one of the missiles slowly rising up the silo, the powerful thrust of the engines accelerating it until it streaks into the sky. Your eye flicks to the next screen, watching in horror as the trail of smoke arcs across the clear blue sky on its short journey to Washington DC. You glance at Bérénice in disbelief.

  “Or was it the other button?” She grins evilly.

  “My God, what have you done?!” You ask her, your voice cracking as the implications begin to sink in.

  “I was tired of waiting.” She shrugs. “Now that’s out of the way, perhaps we can retire to my bedroom?”

  “Why you evil bitch!” You yell, advancing towards her, your hands reaching for her neck. Her eyes widen in terror as your fingers close around her throat. You see a flash of steel in your peripheral vision and feel something stab into your neck. Your fingers fall away from her throat and you collapse to the floor, your hands reaching up to your own throat and coming away bloody. Bérénice stands over you, the nail file in her hand, blood trickling down it. You try to speak, but blood gurgles in your throat.

  “A pity it had to end this way.” She tells you sadly as the lifeblood quickly drains from you, your vision darkening as you slip away. “Au revoir Monsieur Hazard.”

  THE END

  “Anya, help me with this.” You tell her, dropping to your knees and pulling at one of the grates.

  “What are you doing? We have no time for this?” She tells you.

  “Quickly!” You snap. “This will get us out of the facility before the missiles explode.” She checks her watch and glances doubtfully at the grate before joining you and pulling at it.

  “It’s not moving!” Anya grunts through gritted teeth as you both pull at the edge of the grate.

  “Keep trying!” You shout, your heart thumping as you wonder if you have made the wrong decision.

  “James, we have less than a minute now!” Anya tells you, glancing fearfully over the edge of the gantry at the missile below you.

  Persevere with the grate

  Cut your losses and get out of the silo while you can

  “It’s no use, let’s go!” You tell Anya, struggling back to your feet. “Let’s get out of here. If we shut the pressure door, it may be enough to contain the explosion.” She nods, her blue eyes wide with terror as she checks her watch.

  “Thirty seconds!” She tells you as you clamber back through the hatch and into the corridor. You throw all your weight behind the heavy steel door, the unwieldy bulk of it making it swing closed maddeningly slowly. Finally it slams into position and you twist the wheel, locking it shut.

  “Five seconds!” Anya tells you, already sprinting down the corridor towards the staircase at the far end. You set off after her, the floor shaking as the missile’s engines fire. You glance over your shoulder, imagining the missile slowly rising in its silo just behind you. A deafening crash signals its impact with the jammed silo doors and the whole building shakes as the missile breaks apart as the engines continue to try to thrust upwards. The fuel ignites and the whole building shakes, cracks appearing in the walls and floor, the air thick with dust. Anya is nearly to the staircase and looks back at you.

  “Keep going!” You shout, your voice barely audible above the cacophony of explosions and deep rumblings as the facility begins to tear itself apart. The fabric of the building creaks, the ceiling behind you caving in with a mixture of beams, concrete and rock filling the corridor behind you. You stumble, struggling to keep your feet on the uneven floor as Anya disappears up the staircase. You are just behind her. You’re going to make it. You grin. You always make it. You’re James Hazard, Agent 69! The floor ahead of you cracks. The crack rapidly widening to a fissure and you feel the ground beneath your feet fall away. You fall to the floor, scrambling to reach the staircase. There is a deep rumbling above you and you glance fearfully upward as the whole ceiling collapses down onto you. Your scream of terror is abruptly silenced as several tons of rock and concrete crush the life from your body.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  Your heart thumps in your chest as you struggle to wrench the grate free.

  “Twenty seconds.” Anya tells you, utterly deflated as she realises it is too late. You grit your teeth, using every last ounce of strength you possess and finally the grate creaks as it gives way.

  “Go now!” You shout, discarding the grate cover and pushing her into the vent just as you hear the roar of the missile’s engines below, a huge fireball funnelling up the silo towards you. Your eyes widen and you dive into the vent moments before the fireball reaches you. You slip and slide down the long winding tube, Anya just ahead of you. You can feel terrific heat and glance behind you. You gasp in horror. The fireball has been channelled into the vent and is rapidly closing in on you. You wonder how far the chute goes and what is at the end. If there is another grate across the bottom end of the exhaust vent, you’ll have no time to remove it before you are both roasted alive! As you feel the flames singeing you, you grimly realise that the chute’s destination might be a moot point if two flaming corpses emerge from it. You hear Anya cry out and realise that you are running out of chute. You are thrown out of the end and into daylight, both yelling with shock as you plummet several yards before plunging into the churning waves of the Caribbean Sea. You sink down into the watery depths before pushing yourself back towards the surface, the orange and reds of the fireball refracting through the waves. You both burst through the surface, gasping for breath and feeling the heat against your faces as the fireball dissipates.

  “Swim to shore!” You shout at Anya. She looks blankly at you, her eyes wide with shock. You swim closer to her, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “We’ll be okay.” She nods and smiles weakly and you turn and strike out towards a stretch of beach further along the coast.

  You crawl onto the beach, secondary explosions still booming deep within the facility, smoke billowing from the top of the mountain giving it the appearance of an erupting volcano. You both lie there for a moment in the surf, your breathing heavy as you fight for breath.

  “Mission accomplished Mr Hazard.” Anya smiles at you, her grey vest soaked through and almost transparent. “Somehow everything seems to have worked out for you.”

  “It usually does.” You reply, flashing her a cocky grin.

  “You are so arrogant!” She says, crawling over to you. “I really should detest you, but somehow I feel the opposite.”

  “Oh?” You smile, taking her in your arms. Her body, still clammy from the seawater, presses against yours, her eyes gleaming as your lips meet. You kiss long and hard, the relaxing undulating crashing of the waves the only sound as the cool surf washes up over your legs. The sun is high in the sky and quickly dries your bodies as you roll around in the damp sand, kissing each other hungrily, with a passion that only two people who have just stared death in the face can know. You can feel your cock rapidly hardening with excitement as your tongues flick and slide over one another. Your hands slide down to the small of her back, grasping the hem of her damp vest. Anya breaks the kiss, smiling down at you as she allows you to pull it up and over her head, her large breasts falling free, the nipples hard. Her blonde hair, wet and matted together in thick strands, dangles down in your face as she gazes into your eyes, the sun directly behind her head makin
g her appear almost angelic. She reaches down, her hands working at the buttons on your shirt, peeling back the wet fabric from your chest. Your hard cock strains within the restricted confines of your trousers, desperate to be freed. Your excitement building, you both frantically undress each other, the beautiful Russian murmuring her approval when your erect cock springs from your underwear. You roll her onto her back, peeling her tight fitting shorts down her long, toned legs and discard them, your eyes drinking in her slender naked form. Her pale blue eyes gaze up into yours and her lips pout expectantly, the swell of her chest heaving and betraying her excitement. Her legs are slightly parted, the dewy lips of her slit just visible between them.

  “So Mr Hazard, what did you want to do now?” She smiles.

  Pull her towards you and pleasure her with your tongue

  Slip inside her

  “I want you.” You tell Anya earnestly.

  “Take me.” She replies, drawing her legs up and letting them fall open in anticipation. Your pulse racing, you move between her parted thighs, your knees sinking into the wet sand. Anya’s eyes gleam as you lean forward, your body pressing against hers, her breasts crushed against your chest and your throbbing cock against her smooth pubic mound. You kiss her again, Anya responding passionately, your excitement infectious.

  “I need you inside me.” She murmurs hotly, momentarily breaking the kiss. You adjust your position, reaching down between your bodies and grasping your shaft, guiding it to her moist opening. A soft moan escapes her lips as you gently thrust into her, your cock slipping deep inside the slick warmth of her pussy. Her fingers slide down your back, the thin layer of sand clinging to your skin making her touch abrasive. Her legs lock around your thighs, pulling you in tightly as you begin to pump into her. Your grunts join her little gasps of pleasure as you quickly find your rhythm, your bodies churning up the sand as the surf washes over you.