Evening Scotch

Scotch spotted McKinney the moment he entered the pub. He looked less polished since he had retired from the agency, disheveled even. It was an odd counter to the immaculate appearance Scotch was used to seeing. A seasoned agent before McLeod took over running the agency, he was the agent everyone went to including McLeod when they were in over their heads. From the greetings he got upon entering the Cock’s Comb McKinney was still missed. Scotch waited while McKinney made a circuit around the room and stopped at the bar to pick up a pint. The retired agent found Scotch soon enough seated in a private corner with an espresso on the table in front of him.

“Scotch.” McKinney said, extending a hand in greeting.

“Fearless Man returns.”

“I wasn’t fearless. Young and stupid at times but not fearless.” He responded with a grin.

“They’re still teaching your old mission scenarios in training.” Scotch countered.

“Are they pointing out what I did to get into those scenarios in the first place?”

“McLeod insists that it’s the recovery that matters. You know that.”

“The agency weakens every time they don’t look at the complete picture.” He said with a smile. “It’s nice to know that a few people remember me.”

“More than a few McKinney, more than a few.”

McKinney looked around the room before changing the tone of the conversation. “Now why don’t you tell what I’m really doing here?”

“I’m going through a tough time.” Scotch said. “Can’t a man want to have a drink with a friendly face?”

“I heard that you were training a new partner and that she’s a real pip. That’s an espresso sitting in front of you not a whiskey or a pint. You’re working Scotch.”

“You are more observant than your typical retired man of leisure. I should have known that the disheveled appearance was a disguise. What are you working on?” Scotch asked, he looked around the pub. The bartender was busy with a customer and everyone else appeared to be engrossed in their own activities. He leaned in and whispered. “I have a question about business among the agencies.”

McKinney gestured toward the door with a nod of his head and took a long pull from his pint. “A pint doesn’t taste the same anywhere else.” He held on to the glass for a moment and looked at it thoughtfully before setting it down. “Thanks for the drink Scotch. I’ve got to be going, I’ve got a date with a hot brunette. Walk me out?”

Scotch walked with McKinney past his car and into an empty park. “My new partner is a poisons specialist. I have been escorting her on neutralizations, when we get to the target’s location, they are already dead.”

“It’s making the new partner nervous.” McKinney said.

“Yes. So nervous that she went to McLeod with it.”

“What did he tell her?”

“McLeod said that sometimes there is more than one agency that wants someone dead and not to worry about it.”

“It’s true.” McKinney said.

“Of course it’s true. But two targets within a week of each other? On the night that she went to McLeod with the deaths there had been a major breach into the agency’s computer system.”

“McLeod must have been having a fit over that one.” McKinney commented as they walked.

“He wasn’t. He was completely relaxed about the whole thing. It was almost like he was expecting it.”

McKinney stopped walking and looked at Scotch. “Did you look into it?”

“I can’t get much on the computer issues, IT is keeping quiet on the specifics, but McLeod has assigned three other teams to work Neutralizations.”

McKinney continued walking. “It sounds like someone’s cleaning house.”

“Why?” Scotch asked. “The last time that a clean up like this took place was after the Berlin Wall fell. Why do it again? Why now?”

There was a silence between the two men. Scotch could tell that McKinney was making calculations, taking a moment to decide if he could trust Scotch and more importantly,how much was safe to share.

“Do you know why I left the agency?”McKinney asked.

“I thought that you retired. Clearly you haven’t.”

“I have been doing a little freelancing here and there. I also have a special project I’m doing on my own time.”

“What are you doing today?” Scotch asked.

McKinney studied the sunset for several moments, both men watched as the sun went down and the sky above grew darker.

“I left the agency because things are changing.” He said. “Not in a good way.”

Scotch studied his friend and mentor. McKinney was American born, having been taken in by his estranged father at sixteen after his mother passed away in the United States. McKinney had never lost his accent or his American turn of phrase.

“History repeats itself. Because people choose to ignore history, it’s destined to continue repeating itself. Many people are on their way out because a few are on their way in. The ones coming in are a bigger threat than the ones on their way out.”

“On how many levels?” Scotch hated asking so many simple questions, it felt too much like he was the new kid in town instead of a seasoned professional.

McKinney shook his head. “A man ceases to be a beginner in any given science and becomes a master in that science when he has learned that he is going to be a beginner all his life --Robin G. Collingwood said that. You always hated asking too many questions Scotch. It makes you feel like a beginner. Asking questions makes you an explorer not a beginner.”

“I’m a spy.” Scotch countered.

“Don’t hold on to that identity too closely, it could kill you one day.” He shifted a bit and then continued. “Pen is a beginner, you are not. Everything is new to her ; you know how everything is supposed to work. If you’re smart, you’ll use your differences to your advantage.”

Scotch looked at McKinney.

“Don’t pretend that you’re taking my advice. We both know that you won’t. You could say ‘Thank You’” McKinney pointed out.

“Thank you for not telling me anything except ‘Bad people are coming.’”

“That is what you needed confirmed, isn’t it?” McKinney grinned. “If I hear anything I’ll let you know.” He looked at his watch. “If I don’t get going my hot brunette is no longer going to be hot. She’s just going to be angry.”

“It’s not a good idea to keep a lady waiting.” Scotch agreed.

Pen watched as the two men shook hands and parted ways.







 *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.