Andrew the Agent

 

It’s never a good time to be a spy. It’s always dangerous to a greater or lesser degree. Usually greater, as in this case. My mission required the elimination of a target in a foreign country and the securing of another individual for transport from said country. I accomplished the mission, but now we’re unable to get out of the country. The longer we stay the more likely we will be tracked down, discovered and caught. Who would have thought a pandemic would foil my mission?

When I left the US for Italy to intercept the Iranian scientist defector and kill his uncooperative partner, the chance of a pandemic locking down the world was only a whisper in the higher ranks of the government. It wasn’t enough to put my mission on hold. If we held off, we would have missed the opportunity to secure an essential key player in the international arms race. Javid held classified information in his head that the Iranian’s would not want leaked to the US. He was allowed to visit Italy for a conference, but it was only a window of twenty-six hours to work with.

I had to get him out, but at this point it was impossible.

Maximillian the Meticulous

 

Max heard the chime notifying him that his delivery had arrived in the box attached to his safe room. He had time. It would take the box a few minutes to run its decontamination program. Even though he was in a hurry to see what had arrived from his black-market contact, there was no rush. He would finish his toilet. He brushed his teeth and combed his short gray hair. He took the time to wash and polish his glasses and run a razor over his morning stubble. He slipped on his sweats and headed for the waiting package.

Each month Max paid an enormous amount to procure a package such as this. Sometimes the contents were worth the price and more… Sometimes he was gravely disappointed. He hoped this month would bring something worthwhile. He was expecting company and wanted to show it off.

Dan the Deliverer

 

I need a new hazmat suit. I went over mine last night with the approved sealer, but I just don’t trust it. I’ve asked for a new one for the past three weeks. No one seems to care. I’m not in a Level I delivery district. I’m not even in a Level II or III. I service a Level IV. I am fooling myself to think that I am high enough priority to get a new suit. Heck, I’d settle for a used one in better condition than mine.

As much as I’d like to procrastinate, I eventually slip on my suit and head to the supply depot for my load of daily deliveries. I’m lucky in some sense, because most of my Level IV deliveries are small. Residents of the Community Units don’t have a lot to spend.

I get my truck loaded up by 6:00 am and I’m at my first stop by 7:00 am. My Level IV district is on the outskirts of town.

Honey the Humble

It's been over a year since I posted to this blog. It used to be a weekly post for which I did not fail, but times change and so do people.

In my last post, November 2020, I explained that my father had a heart attack, but seemed to be recovering. I am so sorry to say, he didn't. He died November 11, 2020, leaving me and the family cat, Watson, in a very lonely and seemly forgotten state.

Things are a bit better now. We both have worked hard to adjust to our quiet home. The holidays were far better than last year, which seemed inexistent. 

I've had a difficult time getting motivated to write. I am a naturally sociable animal and need that input. The loss of dad, my compromised immune system due to my lungs, and the pandemic make socializing more than difficult. Without it, I find I have very little to interest me in putting fingers to keys and creating.