The Adventures of Agent S
Chapter 1
Scene 3
The door to Tommy’s Pawn and Jewelry opened. In walked a medium height figure, dressed in a black Levi trenchcoat. He carried a black suitcase in one hand, for the other held the door.
Tommy stood behind the counter, reading a newspaper. He stood six two, wore a black turtleneck, green army pants, and blue spiked hair. He looked up.
"May I help you?"
"No, just looking."
Tommy shrugged, and turned to another customer. The teenager was in a blue Levi trenchcoat, but had long blond wavy hair.
"So, how much is this sword?"
Tommy looked at the one he was pointing to on the shelf.
"Two hundred thirty five."
"Damn. Expensive."
"Cause they’re genuine."
The black trench coated stranger butted in. Tommy narrowed his eyes.
"Actually, those are novelty pieces of crap, only idiots believe in their value."
Tommy was taken aback.
"And how do you know?"
"I’ve seen real ceremonial swords. Those don’t even have inscriptions."
"Well mister expert, can you show me real swords? Huh?"
The stranger pulled two short swords from under his trenchcoat. He laid them on the counter.
Tommy stared in amazement. He knew real swords when ever he saw them, and these looked to run a few thousand a piece. The handles were pure ivory, laced with gold dragon tails.
The handle was a curled up dragon, whose claws stretched out as the hand guards. In each clenched paw they held a quarter sized crystal ball. The dragon’s head was wide open, with the blade as the dragon’s tongue.
Tommy noticed that both blades were covered tip to handle by Japanese writing except on the dragons which sat curled around the swords.
Both swords were exactly alike, except the first had a silver handle, and the second had white one.
"Wow. You want to sell these?"
"Yeah, can’t have you bumming imitations. Want them?"
"Yeah. Let me estimate them. Where’d you get these?"
"Just picked them up… hey nice trenchcoat."
The customer turned to him. "Yeah, yours is better. My name is Shawn."
The stranger turned to him. "Hi, my name’s Agent S."
Tommy turned back.
"What do ya say… three thousand each."
"Six thousand!?!?" Shawn gasped.
"Yeah, and he’s ripping me off." Tommy responded.
Agent S smiled. "I’ll take it."
Tommy turned around and started opening the safe. "What’s the suitcase for, feel insecure with this much money?"
"No, actually. It’s for you."
"Yeah?" Tommy smiled.
"It’s from Recluse. Say’s this suitcase is from him, I need to give it to you ASAP."
Tommy stopped, and frowned. Agent S only saw his back, but immediately knew what response he was having.
"Yeah, nice guy, but he didn’t even tell me why. He just handed it to me, said what I just repeated, and left."
Tommy’s smile returned, and he continued unlocking the safe. He reached in.
"Old friend of mine, probably a joke or something. Did you peek inside?" Tommy started to say, turning around.
"No." Agent S replied.
Agent S grabbed Shawn, and pulled him in the way. Tommy’s shot from the revolver now in his hand was stopped by Shawn’s body. Agent S dropped the body and bolted to the back of the shop.
Tommy fired after him.
·
· ·Tommy put the swords below the counter. He jumped the counter and raced to the door. He reached the door, opened it, and looked around.
He spied the flash of trenchcoat at the end of the hallway. He quickly got there, and jumped back to avoid the plant pot falling down at him.
He looked up the stairs to the third floor, and bolted up. He reached it, and knew the only door that ‘Agent S’ could have opened.
·
· ·Agent S checked the suitcase, turned a few switches, and looked back at the door. He placed the suitcase below the sink, and set on the window ledge.
The unmerciful pounding of Tommy finally cleared open the door, regardless to the boxes Agent S had set in the way.
Tommy pointed the gun at Agent S.
"So who are you, really?" he asked. "I’ve killed hundreds of Spyders in my day. None were so bold as to walk in and try and kill me right there. I must admit."
"I’m just some one who’s always in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"What, you’re not an agent? Why do you call yourself Agent S?"
"I’ve…" S paused.
Tommy narrowed his eyes.
"I’ve just…always had that name. I can’t remember my parents, but that probably isn’t my real name."
"Well, who ever you are, prepare to die." Tommy smiled.
S just laughed, and smiled. How many times had he ever heard that?
"Fine," S said, "shoot me."
Tommy grinned wider, and pulled the trigger. The gun jammed. He unjammed it and fired it again. The bullet was faulty and didn’t go off. S whistled, and glanced at his watch. Tommy got pissed.
"What the hell?"
"Just luck I guess." Shawn replied.
He noticed something below, and raised his eyebrows. Tommy changed clips. He finally fired a bullet at S, but Agent S had leapt from the windowsill.
Tommy chuckled, and looked at the suitcase beneath the sink. His eyes went wide, and two words were able to escape his lips in time. "Oh shit."
·
· ·Agent S pushed the detonator button from the back of the tomato truck, which by some strange coincidence, had been driving by at that moment so he could land safely.
As he released the button, the third floor of Tommy’s Pawn and Jewelry exploded in a fiery shatter of wood and steel. A large support beam flew at the truck that S was in. He frowned.
He rolled to the side, as the beam smashed through the cabin of the truck, killing the driver instantly. S dived out of the now out of control tomato truck.
He landed on a car roof, and rolled off onto the hood. The car stopped, and S pulled forward, landing next to the car.
He opened the passenger side door, and looked in. "I’m sorry about…"
S realized this was his Volkswagen Bug. He pulled his pistol out, and pointed it at the car jacker. The man recognized him, and stared, gapping.
"I would like my car back now." S replied calmly. The car jacker got out, and ran, straight into a police motorcycle doing 5o mph. S got into the passenger seat, and started the car back up.
He looked up and into the face of an oncoming drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. S quickly kicked it into reverse, backing up as fast as possible.
When he got far enough away, he quickly turned it, and kicked it back into 1st gear. He slammed the gas, and put it in third. When he got enough space, he made sure the drunk was far enough back behind him.
He looked forward, and into the front of a diesel on the correct side of the road. S quickly turned into the alley, that just happened to be there. He stopped, and closed his eyes as he heard the diesel ram into the drunk driver.
Scene 4
The door opened. A kid in a dark red trenchcoat and punker clothes got in next to Agent S. The boy looked exactly like S. Infact, they looked like twins. Except this kid had red hair in spikes.
"Hey 8." He replied.
S frowned, and turned off the car.
"8? What are you doing here 6? Wait, how’d I know your name?"
"Don’t worry. I thought everything might be getting confusing for you, so I came to explain."
"Well, I know about the Spyders. Brown was a government assassin. Tommy was probably a Spyder Assassin, so Tommy tried to kill Brown. I guess that I got stuck doing the grunt work."
"That’s correct, but don’t you wonder about your past?"
S thought, and couldn’t remember the past five years.
"Don’t you want to know?" the stranger repeated.
S narrowed his eyes. He suddenly remembered something. He got very calm, and calmly started the car up.
"Where are we going?" the stranger asked. S smiled at him.
"I’m hungry. Want burgers?"
The stranger just shrugged. He sat back, and turned on the radio. He slipped in a Punk Compilation tape by End Of The World Records in and turned it up.
S finally got to Billy’s Burger Hut. He pulled into the drive through.
"May I take your order?" the speaker said.
"Yeah," S started. The stranger whispered to him. He started again, "Yeah, I’d like two number two specials."
"Thank You. Please pull up."
S pulled through and sighed. He knew he couldn’t run from this sort of thing.
The lady opened the window, and handed him his food. She smiled, and pulled out a big bag.
"You’re our one millionth customer! We have decided to give you a thousand dollars. Thank you for shopping."
S replied "Oh yea." and took the bag. He drove off.
The stranger was taken back with shock. "A thousand free dollars and an ‘Oh yea’ for it?"
S pointed to the suitcase next to the stranger’s feet, and he picked it up. The stranger gasped at the contents, ten thousand dollars in small unmarked bills.
"Oh, that might explain it." The stranger replied, remembering something.
S pulled off the road next to a park, and started on his hamburger. The stranger turned to him.
"Don’t you understand? My name, you don’t even know my name."
"6?"
"No. My name is Agent S."
S dropped his burger, and stared at this stranger. "What does the S stand for?"
"It isn’t important. What is important is that I’m Agent S 6, and you’re Agent S 8."
S 8 went through a sudden shock of realization. They finished their burgers in silence. S 6 started up.
"There’s something else you need to know. All of the Agents are this big program called Project S3-847. It’s a big government project. Each of us have special abilities."
S 8 looked at him strangely.
"My ability is Pyrokinesis, the ability to mentally start and control fire. I’m pretty sure you know your power."
"Let me guess. Incredible luck, good or bad?"
"Pretty much. I think it makes you immortal. You’ve got a nice power."
"So you didn’t answer my question. What’s the S stand for?"
"Simon," S 6 started as S 8 leaned forward to start the car, "it stands for Simon. All us Simons have another power. The ability to-"
S 6 was cut off by a bullet, which had been aimed at S 8. S 8 had leant forward, so it hit S 6 instead. S 8 kept his head low, and slammed on the gas.
He received an unknown pain in his chest, but somehow he knew it was related to S 6's death. S 8 plowed through a hot dog stand in the park, and sped down into the sand. He quickly lifted his head, and glanced at the rear-view mirror.
Two black Ford Explorers were chasing him. They looked exactly like the ones S had seen on the X-Files. In fact, the trucks in the TV show were always full of guys who covered up government experiments.
Suddenly Simon 8 realized HE was a government experiment.
The Bug ground through the sand, spun out, and stopped. The trucks stopped, maybe a dozen feet away. Simon got out, with Simon 6's body over his shoulder.
Ten men stepped out, wearing black suits and sunglasses, and armed with Uzi's. One (Simon assumed he was their leader) of the men looked to him.
"Is that 6's body?" he replied.
"Yeah."
He nodded towards the men next to him. Three men rushed over to pick up Simon 6's body. They rushed back, the truck door slid open, and Simon 6's body was gone.
"6 told you too much. We either have to bring you in for another Memory Erase or kill you and then bring you in for another Memory Erase. What'll it be?"
Simon thought, then smiled. From under his black trenchcoat he lifted a massive gun.
It looked like a massive shotgun on top of an extended UZI with a clip running out of the side instead of the bottom for both barrels. It had a foldable shoulder stock, which he unfolded as he brought it out.
It's top barrel was about three inches radius; the bottom barrel was like a normal UZI, but it had a silencer over the front foot of the lower barrel. It had a scope/sight thing on top, and the whole gun was about four feet long without the stock.
The leader dived into the truck Simon 6's body was in, and shut the door. Simon aimed at the other truck, and fired.
The men were so surprised that they didn't react until he fired. The shot plowed through one off the guys and into the truck. The truck exploded, sending the men diving for cover. Instead of diving for cover, Simon rushed the remaining truck. It wasn't like any shrapnel would hit him while he was in trouble.
Simon quickly made his way up the hood and onto the roof of the black truck. Three resourceful men fired at him. The bullets missed, some bouncing off the truck.
Simon fired the lower barrel, which was an UZI, and took two men out. He ducked, as the third guy fired. S raised, and hopped off, spraying bullets as he landed.
The third guy, and two others who had just gotten up, all fell from Simon's massacre. Simon ran around the truck to the other side. There were three guys on both sides of him.
He quickly dived onto his back, sliding a few feet. One man, too impatient, fired when Simon hit the ground. This hit the guy across from him in the leg, causing that man to fall.
The falling man fired wildly, mowing down the three across from him.
The two remaining men turned to look at S on the ground, his gun pointed at them. That would be the last time they would look at anything.
·
· ·Agent S climbed on top of the black truck and looked around. Everyone was wasted. S checked the meter on the side of his gun. It had a hundred rounds in the UZI clip and ten shells in upper clip.
He fired an UZI burst into the truck roof, but it was bullet proof, just like the rest of it. He switched to the upper gun, and fired at the rear of the truck.
Simon realized this must have been the leader's truck, as the explosive shell just bounced off and landed among the dying men on the ground. This exploded, ending their terrible pain.
Simon backed up, and jumped off the roof as it exploded outwards. Simon gaped. Someone had just punched their fist through the roof, aiming at S.
The truck door opened, and a man stepped out. He stood over six feet tall, he could probably be a basketball player.
The man wore a dirty dark-brown trenchcoat, and had a shaved head. He was built like a football player, and he had a squarish face.
He spread his hands. Instead of fingers, there were huge claws two feet long each and as wide as a Rhino horn.
A deep, deep voice came from his face, yet his mouth did not move. I am the Ender; I am Agent Omega, Agent 13· 13.
Simon leveled his gun, and r eadied. He looked beyond Ender to a river. A river that he remembered ran through this state all the way to Colorado, three hours travel. The river was two hundred feet wide here, but grew to a mile or two wide. It had docks all up and down it.
Ender smiled as Simon fired. Ender slammed against the truck as his guts were exploded across the grass from the explosion, then fell to lay against the truck.
Simon was puzzled at how simple that was. Suddenly he frowned.
Ender's insides were regenerating. In a few seconds, he had most of his major organs back. Simon ran like hell to his car.
He grabbed a suitcase and a trash bag. Simon turned around to see Ender standing three inches from his face. Ender raised his arms high in the air for a killing double swipe, but just then spun around.
The cops had arrived, and that wasn't good for the agents in the black suits.
Ender ran towards the cars as S ran like hell towards the river. He stopped halfway across the bridge to turn and see Ender chopping cops in half left and right with his massive claws.
After all six cops were dead, Ender glanced around. His sights fell directly on Simon, and turned to chase after him.
Simon, actually frightened for once in his life, fired a shell directly at Ender, throwing him back dozens of feet. S jumped off the bridge, onto a small sailboat cruising down the river. The sail was down, so S slammed into the deck. He was knocked unconscious.
·
· ·Simon awoke in a bed, naked. A girl walked in, and handed him a glass of water.
As he drank, she undressed. He almost spit the water out, but managed to keep it down.
"Who are you?" he asked.
She pulled a gun from her clothes and pointed it at him. "A spy, like you."
"I'm not a spy." S whined.
"Well then, you sure have a hell of a lot of explaining to do." She replied, pointing the gun at his temple.
"I hate my life." S commented.
Continued Next Issue…