AMARANO HOTEL, BURBANK CA
A phone line ringing in a jean-and-tee-shirt clad man's ear was interrupted by the sound of a petite child's voice.
"Hola?" The man sighed with relief and couldn't stop himself from smiling.
"Hola, Andrea. In English, si?"
"Yes, papa," the little girl's halted English spoke like liquid ambrosia into her father's ear.
"How are things with you and mama?"
"Mama is well. We don't have car anymore, it...broke when bomb broke car next to it. We walk to school now, but is ok, we are home before dark so we are always safe."
The man nodded against the phone, though his heart sank at his little girl's words.
"You say your prayers, little one? Every night?" He asked. A pause.
"Andrea?"
"Yes, papa, we pray you come home safe from your trip. We pray for Grandmama to get better and we pray no more bomb hurt cars for others. We pray, papa. Can you come home now?" The little voice caused the man's eyes to well with unbidden tears. He hated being away from his family.
"Soon, my little angel. I love you. Kiss your mama for me, yes?"
"I will papa."
"I love you this much," the man said, wiping his face.
"I love you THIS much," the voice on the other line emphasized.
"Goodbye for now."
"Goodbye, papa," the line disconnected. The man stared at the receiver in his hand, wishing it was his daughter he held instead of cold, impersonal plastic.
A knock sounded at the door and the man replaced the receiver as he rose to his feet. The door opened and three men walked into the brightly lit room, closed the door and stood stiffly at attention, saluting the man before them.
"I trust you have news or you would not be entering this late into my room," Alejandro Juan Flores addressed his men, saluting them back and bidding them to sit upon the furniture arranged around the room.
"We beg pardon the late hour," a soldier dressed in jeans and flannel began. "You know we were tracking down the people who were looking to infiltrate the arms deal, leading to finding the Carmichaels and discovering they were, in fact, working FOR rather than AGAINST the US government. The agent, Bartowski, not only headlined the operation to take down our sect but was also key holder of government secrets."
Flores nodded as he sipped the glass on the stand in front of the sofa he sat on. The opaque amber liquid felt warm going down his throat and he sighed.
"Continue," he said, looking at the speaker, who seated himself directly across the room from him.
"We have word. Emmanuel picked him up from his home, was chased by his handlers. Emanuel van was wrecked and there was a shootout. The target was killed, Emmanuel wouldn't let the US have their beloved agent if we couldn't. The female handler was also hit, but one was left alive. He killed Emmanuel."
It was a solemn story. Emmanuel Cortez wasn't on the team for years like some of the good men Flores lost during the downfall of his rebellion but he was loyal and stood out as a force to be reckoned with. Flores took another sip of his alcohol.
"The girl?" he asked.
"Now protected by only one, a... Colonel Casey of the NSA. Here is the file on all we have on the man."
أنت تقرأ
Caught Unaware
قصص الهواةColonel John Casey has spent the last 4 years going on missions and protecting special government interests with Agents Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker. He's a man who is born and bred for secret missions and assassination-type directives, leading...
