"Sir?" muttered Agent Two.
"What now, agent?"
"What's BI and KSA, sir?"
"It means background investigation and knowledge, skills and abilities. In the event something does happen that you aren’t prepared for, then use your SABT."
Agent Two looked over to Agent One who shrugged his shoulders.
"Special agent basic training," hissed the General in irritation. "However, in the event your cover is blown revert to DT and return to HQ."
"I know this one, I'm sure I do." mumbled Agent One tapping his chin thoughtfully.
"Defensive tactics and head quarters." said the General massaging his temples with his fingers furiously.
"What if we get caught, sir?" asked Agent Two.
"I'll be tracking your every move on the ALI and if that happens then we'll send in a HRT."
Both agents nodded their heads knowingly.
"You don’t have a clue what that is, do you?"
Both agents nodded their heads knowingly.
"An ALI is the automatic location indicator which is a transmitter locked in on your position and the HRT is the hostage rescue team. Do remember agents, this mission is TS."
"Total shit, sir?" offered Agent One.
"Top secret." cried the General in exasperation.
"Can we write these down, sir? It's pretty hard to remember them all."
"Did any of you agents bother to read the 'Language of espionage' book I gave you?"
"Was I meant to read that, sir?" asked Agent Two.
"Never mind, agents. Good luck out there."
Both agents spun on their heels to turn and leave the building when suddenly the General shouted out excitedly.
"Wait, I've got a little surprise for you, Agent One." he said reaching into his pocket.
"You shouldn’t have, sir."
"A good secret agent needs transportation." said the General as he dangled a set of car keys with a wide smile on his face.
"Oh you didn’t?" squealed Agent One with his face lighting up.
"It was nothing," said the General bashfully as the agent snatched them from his outstretched hand. "The WAV is parked right out front."
"The WAV? You got me a secret agent car?" he gasped. "What are its capabilities? Does it have bullet proof armor?"
"No, it doesn’t have bullet proof armor," admitted the General. "But to be fair I don’t think anyone would waste any bullets on it."
"Can it turn into a submarine, sir?"
"Of course," answered the General. "Well, you could drive it underwater but it wouldn’t be functional and swimming skills would be essential."
"Does it have revolving number plates to help evade the enemy?"
"Let's just say that being inconspicuous isn’t going to be a problem in this car."
"What about bonnet mounted machine guns?" asked Agent One hopefully. "Or surface-to-air missiles? Or passenger ejection seats?"
"I'm fairly confident that your vehicle has none of these modifications, agent."
"Not even a grappling hook?"
"Hold on a second… let me think for a moment. No, it doesn’t have a grappling hook either, I'm sure of it."
Agent One looked down at the keys to the WAV in his hand with hope dying from his face.
"Go and take a look at it. You'll be impressed, agent."
"Hold on, how come I don’t get a secret agent car, sir?" protested Agent Two planting his hands on his hips in annoyance.
"Ahhh…I haven’t forgotten about you, Agent Two," said the General delving back into his pocket and handing him five plastic smartcards. "Here you go!"
Agent Two turned the cards over in his hand with a bemused look on his face then looked back at the General.
"These are Oyster cards, sir?" he exclaimed.
"Correct, agent. London buses are a quick, convenient and cheap way to travel around London and get to your destination."
"Let me get this right, sir. You want me, a secret agent on a top-secret mission, to lead my recruits into danger and to get to this destination where we will all likely die a horrible death; you want us to catch buses?"
"It's genius." retorted the General.
"It's cheap."
"Think about it, agent. No-one would be expecting you to arrive on a bus. It's low-key, it's modest and you won't attract any attention. I think it's the perfect stealth arrival."
"Just a slight observation sir, but I'm travelling with triplets dressed in matching black eye masks, capes and skin tight blue leggings and a bat wielding sociopath named Julie. Do you really think we won't draw any unwanted attention?"
"I think you and your team will slip right under the radar, agent."
Shaking his head Agent Two looked over to Agent One who held up his car keys with a triumphant smirk on his face.
"I've got a car." he said.
With a skip in his step the agent opened the door to the foyer and left the building to inspect his new vehicle followed quickly by the General and the rest of the team.
"What do you think?" asked the General proudly as they gathered around the car parked at the side of the curb in front of the building.
Agent Two snorted as Agent One stood rooted to the spot staring at the car.
"Well?"
"Where's my WAV secret agent car, sir?"
"That's it!" cried the General tapping the bonnet of the car. "This is your wheelchair accessible vehicle, WAV. It's been specially converted to accommodate Captain Fanspastic's wheelchair. Great isn’t it?"
Agent One blinked a few times and ignored the robotic chuckling sound coming from Captain Fanspastic beside him.
"It's a Fiat Doblo 1.4 Mylife." said the agent miserably.
"Yes, but it is so much more, agent. It has a built-in rear access wheelchair ramp, access through the side or the back of the vehicle and even has wheelchair tie-downs."
"You got me a Fiat Doblo 1.4 Mylife." repeated the agent.
"It's got 32,000 miles on the clock, metallic grey paint; it's got a five speed gearbox and offers 95bhp of mediocre performance. Comes with alloy wheels, full service history and there's a CD player too!"
"There's a CD player?" whispered Agent One.
"Yes, of course. Before I took it out and sold it. But that's not the point. It's a fine motor, agent."
"Take it back, sir!"
"I've leased it on a five-year agreement so that is out of the question. Now load Captain Fanspastic into the back and go catch me some arms dealers. That's an order, agent."
Suddenly Agent One straightened his shoulders and nodded his head in grim determination.
"You're right! Whatever our mode of transport we have a mission to fulfil so let's get out there and bring those criminals to justice."
"That's the spirit." said the General punching the air with delight.
"Sure, we can do this," agreed Agent Two confidently. "We're agents of R.A.S.H and we laugh in the face of danger."
"I love that attitude," cried the General gleefully. "But just remember you are considered expendable."
"Let's kick their asses." screeched the triplets in perfect harmony.
"Yeah!" hollered the General. "Technically it's against UK child labor laws, but what the heck."
"I'll use my feminine charm to lure them in and then POW!" yelled Susan punching the air with her fist.
"You courageous vixen you." purred Agent One seductively.
"I'll use my superior intellect to outwit the enemy." squawked the robotic voice of Captain Fanspastic.
"They'll never outsmart you." cried Agent Two.
"I still hate you," said Captain Fanspastic angling the wheelchair slowly towards the agent. "May you rot in hell you piece of shit."
"What will you do, Man-with-bat?" asked the General.
"Julie! Smash!" he growled pounding his huge fist into his palm menacingly.
"Hmmmm…doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as Hulk! Smash! Does it?" commented Agent One. "Sorry, that doesn’t qu
ite work for me."
"What did I say?" grumbled Julie looking hurt.
"Bit of a conversation killer, that one," mumbled Agent Two. "I only have one last thing to ask, sir."
"What's that, agent?"
"What's time's the bus?"
Chapter Ten
The journey 1
Ding Ding…
The bus slowed down and pulled in at the stop but no-one made to leave.
With a sigh the driver stared back at the passengers seated on the bus with irritation plastered all over his face.
"Once again, I'm sorry," said Agent Two sheepishly. "It won't happen again."
"Can you control your children and stop them ringing the bell, please!" spat the bus driver through gritted teeth before turning back round.
The bus began pulling out of the stop and immediately the bell was rung again and the 'Bus stopping' sign lit up near the front.
Glancing over his shoulder Agent Two stared at the other disgruntled passengers on the bus then at the triplets who were looking innocently out of the window.
"Can you please stop doing that?" hissed the agent.
"It's not us." responded the triplets sniggering between them.
"Can you stop them pressing that big red button?" asked the agent glaring across to Julie who was sat on the other end of the aisle with his bat cradled across his lap.
"I think it's quite funny." said Julie.
The bus slowed and came to a halt at the next stop and yet again no passenger made to leave.
"Please don’t signal the bus to stop if you aren’t getting off," pleaded the driver from the front of the vehicle. "When the bus is approaching the stop you want to get off, then you can ring the bell."
The bus set off again and the triplets pressed the bell in succession three times as the agent hid his face in his hands. Suddenly the driver slammed on the brakes, stood up from his chair and walked down the aisle towards them accompanied by a whisper of hushed voices and finger pointing.
"Please, for the love of God!" begged the driver with a tremor in his voice. "I've had a busy day today and I'm behind schedule on my route. The rules are simple; if you want me to stop the bus then you ring the bell. If you don’t want me to stop the bus then don’t ring the bell. It's a system and what your children are doing is distracting me from the road and making me slowly lose my mind. Please get them to stop or this bus isn’t moving until you get off!"
"These?" said Agent Two swiveling in his chair and pointing at the boys. "These aren’t my children. I'm just sharing a rather uncomfortable journey with them."
"But Daddy!" protested the triplets. "You said we could keep pressing the button."
"Hey, I'm warning you boys, enough of the nonsense!" snapped the agent before looking back up at the bus driver. "All I can say, is if you can put up with it for a little while longer…say, can you tell me how long it is to Archway Road near Waterlow Park?"
"Two hours dependant on traffic." said the driver crossing his arms angrily.
"Ah," replied Agent Two winching. "That could mean a lot of stopping in-between. Do you have any crayons or anything like that to keep them entertained?"
"Do I look like a mobile play centre?" grunted the driver. "They're your children so you control them."
"Seriously, technically speaking, I'm just their guardian. If these were my biological kids I'd have them put down."
There were gasps of shock from the other passengers on the bus and the agent looked around.
"I mean put down humanely." he added defensively.
"Monster!" someone cried at the back of the bus.
"Put down? Put down where?" asked the bus driver.
"You know, like putting down the family pet with an injection of some sort." mumbled the agent shifting uncomfortably in his seat under the stares from the other passengers.
"Are they sick?" queried the driver looking concerned.
"No, just really, really annoying."
"Why don’t you love us anymore, Daddy?" sobbed one of the triplets.
"That's fake crying, trust me!" yelled Agent Two. "Those boys aren't capable of real tears. They can put on quite a production if you let them."
"It looks pretty real to me." murmured the driver staring at the triplets who were all crying and hugging each other now.
"Don't fall for their act. I've studied little children crying a lot…hold on, why did I just say that?" said the agent frowning to himself.
Some of the passengers on the bus hurriedly left the vehicle while others began shielding their own children protectively.
"You shouldn't be around children," warned the driver pointing a finger at him. "You shouldn’t be around any children. You're a dangerously, unhinged man and I'm not comfortable in this situation. You just sit right there while I go back to my seat and radio for some help."
"Oh look, this is our stop," cried Agent Two surging to his feet. "Come on kids, time to get off the bus."
Chapter Eleven
The journey 2
"He hates me!" muttered Agent One glancing in the rear-view mirror at Captain Fanspastic as they pulled up at a set of traffic lights.
"I'm sure he doesn’t hate you," chided Susan. "He's just a sweet old man."
Agent One looked in the mirror once again at the reflection of Captain Fanspastic who was glaring at him and slowly, running his finger across his neck in a slicing motion.
"He most definitely hates me."
"It's true, I hate him," said the robotic voice behind them. "I have such upmost hatred for him."
There was a honking of horns from behind them and the agent realized the traffic signals had turned to green.
He put the car in gear and accelerated away down the busy road then slowed once again when they found themselves in a heavy city traffic jam.
"Hate is such a strong emotion, Captain Fanspastic," said the agent over his shoulder pleasantly. "Can we just say we dislike each other a little bit?"
"Your inches away from death," replied the old man behind him. "I want to stab you to death then splash around in your blood."
Agent One looked across to Susan and shrugged his shoulders and said "Told you, he hates me!"
"Just talk to him." she encouraged with a reassuring smile.
"Okay, okay," said the agent clearing his throat. "So uh… Captain Fanspastic, maybe we got off on the wrong foot?"
"I can't feel my feet." replied Captain Fanspastic.
An awkward silence fell on the car as they inched forward in the traffic jam.
"What's your leg room like back there?" asked the agent.
"Your death will be slow and painful, but mostly slow." replied the old man.
"I just can't win!" cried the agent in exasperation. "You're part of the team Captain Fanspastic. We need to stand together."
Susan winched in her seat and hunched down a little.
"What?" asked the agent looking mystified.
"In your final moments your last words will be to beg me to end your life." crackled the voice of Captain Fanspastic.
"Seeing as though we seem to be talking amicably, I feel there is an embarrassing topic we need to discuss and it's about your bowel movements." continued Agent One.
"This is going so bad." whispered Susan.
"I'm going to peel the skin from your face and wear it like a clay mask." said Captain Fanspastic.
"I understand it's a sensitive subject. We're all grownups here and I feel it's important to clear the air, and what I want you to know is that I want to assist you to a toilet break whenever you want to go."
"I'm going to peel it off any minute now."
"So do you have any sensation down below, at all?" queried the agent. "If you could give us fair warning when you need to open your bowels I feel it would help avoid any unnecessary friction within the team."
"Sure." replied Captain Fanspastic.
"Oh good," said Agent One glancing into the mirror with a smile. "Wait! Why are you straining?"
/>
"I'm not straining." gasped the old man with his face going a deep shade of purple.
"I can see you straining in the mirror," cried the agent. "You're bearing down, I can see it."
Suddenly Captain Fanspastic's face relaxed and the foul smell of defecation wafted through the car.
"That's just disgusting!" yelled Agent One opening the window and sucking in some air. "Don’t you have any self-esteem?"
"That's so strong." said Susan holding her nose.
"I can feel the warmness between my legs." cackled Captain Fanspastic happily.
"You're a very angry individual," insisted the agent in disgust. "Tell me, are you comfortable talking about your condition, or would you prefer not to?"
"I don’t mind." replied the old man.
"Well, you don't laugh much do you? It can't be all bad. Let's make light of the situation. I mean, it looks like fun. I wish I could drive everywhere in one of those things. Can you do wheelies?"
"Fun?" spat Captain Fanspastic. "My severed spinal cord injury looks like shits-and-giggles to you?"
"There you go you hit the nerve." whispered Susan.
"I'll tell you what fun is! Fun is having a robotic speech synthesizer that makes me sound like Wall-E. Fun is losing my independence and dignity, now that's hilarious. Fun is being on a long-term laxative constipation treatment because of loss of bowel and bladder control. Isn’t that just the best? Fun is pressure sores, blood clots, pneumonia and septicemia because without it life sucks. Fun is the constant risk of life threatening pulmonary embolism which is the inability to breathe. Its enjoyment and excitement all rolled into one. Fun is being on constant medical alert because of autonomic dysreflexia. It's a laugh riot and a regular source of enjoyment. Fun is constantly being at eye-level of men's crotches, a highly joyous and pleasurable vantage point, and in addition to all this great fun I haven’t had a full erection for years. Does that all sound fun to you?"
"Doesn’t sound so much fun when you put it like that." muttered Agent One.
"I want to beat you into a coma with a tire iron." hissed the old man.
"Would you like a packet of crisps? There's some in the glove box. They're Walkers."
"I'm going to make a necklace from your lower intestines and gargle on your blood."
R.A.S.H (Rent.A.Super.Hero) (Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent Book 2) Page 4
