01

691 21 0
                                    

★ ° . *   ° . °☆  . * ● ¸ .    ★  ° :. ★  * • ○ ° ★.  *  .       .°  . ● . ★ ° . *   ° . °☆. * ● ¸ .    ★  ° :●.   *• ○ ° ★  .  *  .

BANG BANG
Newcomers

ROSETTA LAWTON was typing away on her computer, after being put on desk duty after an incident in the lab, when she had gotten an alert saying someone had somehow entered the warehouse full of whiskey. People who were in the other side of STATESMAN knew this wasn't any old room full of whiskey, it was an entrance to the spy agency. Checking on the cameras, she strapped up revolver in case things got messy.

Walking down the corridor, the clicks of her heels echoed the corridors. Knocking on an office door of a coworker, AGENT TEQUILA, and alerted him of the possible danger. Making their way, Tequila made outrageous accusations of who could be in there. All guesses Brandy had disregarded immediately.

Walking into the room, they saw two sharply dressed men; one bald holding an axe and the other wearing a pair of glasses and dark hair. "Fucking hell, Merlin." The man with the glasses said to 'Merlin' as he swung the axe into a barrel of whiskey. The two southerners looked towards each other and gave a nod.

"Well aren't you two just the cream of the crop!" The brunette interrupted their worrying as the whiskey emptied its way out. Both Brandy and Tequila made their way closer.

"You know, my mama" Tequila began, trying his best to sound threatening. "She always told me, us southerners get our good manners from the British. I was thinkin', ain't that a pity. Y'all didn't keep nothing for yourselves."

"Y'all ain't never heard of knocking before you enter?" The girl interrupted her co worker.

"Well, actually we had an invitation. Didn't we?" The shorter man with glasses spoke.

"Did ya now?" Brandy fawned her understanding.

"Yeah. It came in a shape of a bottle." The glasses continued, looking toward the weapons that were held by the southerners. "We're from the Kingsman tailor shop in London. Maybe you've heard of us?"

"Oh, the Kingsman." Tequila interrupted, getting a 'yeah' from the Scottish man. "That's where y'all got them fine suits and them fancy spectacles y'all got on?"

"Exactly!" Merlin agreed, not seeing the fact Tequila was straw manning him.

"Y'all look damn sharp." Brandy deepened her voice. "Let me see if I got it right, here. You want me and my partner to believe that it's normal for a tailor, to hack through an advanced biometric security system, with nothing but a little bitty old watch on?" The English men looked at each other.

"I can promise you," both Tequila and Brandy spun their guns. "That dog dont hunt. So why don't you go on and get down on your knees, and tell us who you really work for." Waiting for an answer from the men in front of them, the bald one had out his hand away from the whiskey barrel, whiskey pooling on the floor.

Tequila had spit his chewing tobacco towards the leak, holding it up. "That's 1963 Statesman Reserve. You just made it personal." Taking steps closer both British men had lunged for the two in the cowboy hats.

Dodging their attacks they pushed the grips of their guns into the sides of the intruders sides and inflicting pain. Knocking both men out, the agents had dragged them up to a room; ready for interrogation.

Bang bang || Agent Whiskey -DISCONTINUEDOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora