04

873 15 0
                                    

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

BANG BANG
Glastonbury

Brandy and Whiskey were sitting in his convertible, waiting for Galahad outside of a well furnished building. Brandy had changed into an off the shoulder black top with flared jeans, and of course a matching cowboy hat.

She was seated next to Whiskey, constantly checking her nails. Whiskey had noticed a few times that she had been side eyeing him; for an agent, she wasn't very desecrate.

Just as he was about to confront her, Galahad had returned; dressed in more casual attire. "Got the passes from my contact." He jumped over the side, seating himself in a makeshift seat. "You two are gonna love Glastonbury."

"That's the easy part, Junior." Brandy looked towards the younger. "We need a plan of what's gonna happen." She turned her eyes towards Whiskey, "Any ideas, Rusty Fender."

With a roll of the eyes he an accusing finger, "First off, my car is in perfect shape. Ain't no 'rusty fenders' here." Knowing Brandy had gotten under his skin for the day, she could relax. "Secondly, look in the glove box."

Brandy had given another side eye to the other southerner in the car. Opening up the glove box, she was met with a pistol and a small case. Opening the said case, she was met with a small piece of rubber.

Whiskey could've seen her devious smile from a mile away. She had bursted out laughing, Galahad had taken a look ever her shoulder. "Fucking hell, bruv."

"You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear!" She heaved throughout her laughing.

"Thought everything was supposed to be bigger in America." Galahad joked, still peering over Brandy's shoulder. At this point Brandy was howling, Whiskey was always one to flaunt how suave he is and when he has sex, or picks up a girl. "Is this why you overcompensate with these massive cars?"

"Dear lord, junior you gotta stop! I can't breath!" Whiskey was clearly embarrassed as he pushed his glasses up. Placing a hand over the howling woman next to him he spoke closely to the girl and boy, "It goes on your finger. The surveillance tracker is in the tip."

"Aw, sorry for hurting your masculinity. Bless your heart." She cupped her fellow southerners cheek, shaking his face back and forth.

Rolling his eyes, he continued talking, "Apply light pressure for three seconds to release it." After the explanation, Brandy placed the box back into its temporary home as Whiskey stared the car, heading to Glastonbury.

You could hear the screaming of crowds and rock music as the trio made their way through the entrance. "Okay, so according to her instagram feed, Charlie's ex-girlfriend is up ahead at the VIP bar." Galahad looked up from his phone, "Which one of us is gonna plant the tracker."

"I say we both make an approach, whoever gets on best, goes for it." Whiskey suggested.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a completion, bruv. What about Brandy? Why don't we just go up to her, shake her hand, pat her on the back, whatever, you know. Job done." Eggsy had a confused look behind his sunglasses.

Brandy slung an arm over the boy, "Oh, junior. Sweet, naive, junior." Brandy giggled.

"The hand is not a mucous membrane, Eggsy. Neither is the back." Whiskey stated, looking past Brandy to Eggsy. "They teach you anything at Kingsman?"

"What's re you talking about?" Eggsy looked genuinely confused. Brandy took pity on the kid, he had no clue what the plan was.

"Our trackers are designed to enter the bloodstream." Brandy whispered, making sure he got the memo.

"They circulate harmlessly, providing full audio and GPS." Whiskey finished for Brandy.

"Mucus membrane. That's like up the nose, isn't it?" Eggsy looked at the two Americans, "What the duck am I gonna do? Stuck my finger-" Eggsy stopped himself, both American agents gave him a look as he had a disgusted look of realisation. "It's not just inside the nose, is it?"

The people who were in question shook their heads. "Fuck." All three agents looked at the girl in question.

"Alright, I'll take the first crack. Watch and learn, buddy." Whiskey spoke, afterwards taking a swig from his flask. He was met with both Eggsy and Brandy snickering at the fact he was so confident.

The remaining two watched as Whiskey quickly got denied, Brandy had shoved Eggsy and gave him a, 'Go get em, tiger'. Whiskey strutted away, yet again today with a damaged masculinity. Taking another swig of his flask, he joined Brandy and scowled at her smiling face.

"What are we doin?" Brandy mocked in an even more southern voice than her own.

"We both know you have a thicker accent then me." Whiskey crossed his arms, feigning an angry child. At the lack of response from his partner, he looked to his right; only to see she was mocking the 'swiping to the left' that he was previously doing.

The later the time got, the more jabs the agents threw at each other. Eggsy was right about the two loving Glastonbury. Plus, there was alcohol.

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

Thank you so much for 300+ reads

Bang bang || Agent Whiskey -DISCONTINUEDWhere stories live. Discover now