Fan Letter

The moment that Scotch exited the living room Pen went in the other direction. She returned to her bedroom and with a flip of the light switch she began counting.

“One.” Pen shut the door.

“Two.” She retrieved clean panties from a stack of clothes that had been neatly laid out on a chair and put them on.

“Three.” Bra was secured into place.

“Four.” Blouse pulled overhead and smoothed out.

“Five.” Pants put on.

“Six.” Pen snatched a stun gun and her keys off of the top of her dresser and opened the door, heading back through the living room and into the kitchen. She found Scotch standing next to her stove. He was looking at an apple that had been placed in on its center between the burners. The apple had been impaled with one of Pen’s cooking knives. A piece of paper was attached.

“What is it?” Pen asked.

“It’s for you. A fan letter.”

Pen looked a Scotch questioningly. He looked around the small kitchenette, spotting her dish washing gloves, he put them on and gently slid the apple to Pen so she could inspect it.

The note attached to the apple read: The Agency is not what you think it is. BEWARE.--U.

“Who is ‘U’?”

“Is that how you Americans speak? It’s no wonder your country is looking the way that it is these days.” Scotch teased. After a silence he gave a real answer. “Ursula. She was with The Agency once upon a time.” One side of his mouth turned up for a brief moment.

“You are fond of her?”

“I was...until I wasn’t.”

Scotch looked away. Pen watched as his eyes panned the room—across the stove, along the floor, to the refrigerator. They traveled along the counter and past the window. His gaze stopped at the door leading out of the flat. “It was Duff,” he announced.

“Duff?”

“Ursula sent Duff to deliver her message. He has a bit of a glandular problem and can be quite fragrant. Duff, being self-conscious, has tried using various colognes in an effort to mask his scent. The cologne only makes things worse.”

“You smelled him in here?”

“I had to work a stake-out with Ursula once, she brought Duff along. Our hiding spot was cramped and there was not much of an opportunity to get fresh air. Duff’s scent is a bit like cannabis, once you’ve smelled it up close and personal it’s an odor that you never forget.” He took off the gloves and tossed them into the sink.

“Doesn’t that make him a terrible choice for this type of work?”

“Ursula and Duff go back all the way to primary school. He does odd jobs for Ursula here and there. As I already said he is self-conscious about his glandular problem. He prefers to be non-confrontational.”

“You smelled him.” Pen said. “You smelled him and said something to bring attention to the fact that you knew someone was in the apartment with us encouraging him to make a quick get away. Brilliant.”

“I always have been. You’ve seen my profile at the agency.”

Pen raised an eyebrow.

“It’s actually an old trick. It works on great on school buddies who sneak into your dorm room to pull a prank.”

Pen went into the living room and returned with her phone. She began typing a text message.

“What are you doing?”

“Contacting Corporate. There are strict directives in place regarding residential break-ins of agents regardless of the circumstances.”

Scotch removed the phone from Pen’s hand and deleted her message. He took her phone, handing her his own. “Stay here.” He said and proceeded to leave. Scotch stopped moving when he felt her hand on his arm.

“I need my phone.”

“No you don’t, you have my phone.”

“All of my important numbers are in there.”

“All of your contacts with Corporate are in there too. The last thing that we need is for you to contact Corporate at the moment.”

“Corporate directives were crafted and put into place to keep all agents safe from harm.” Pen quoted.

“They were also put into place to ensure that said agents were under the agency’s control at all times.” Scotch thought for a moment and made a difficult decision. “You were right when you said that finding our targets already neutralized was a sign that something is wrong. I am right about there being something unusual going on at the agency, McKinney confirmed that for me tonight.”

“What’s going on?” Pen asked.

“He won’t share any specifics.” Scotch looked at the stove, gesturing towards the impaled apple and the note with a nod of his head. “Now Ursula has jumped into the mix.”

“That makes it even more imperative to check in with Corporate.” Pen countered.

Scotch shook his head. “Something is amiss. We cannot identify who the enemy is until we know who all of the players are.”

“Are you suggesting that it would be best to know where the parties involved are going with these deaths before contacting Corporate?”

“And who the responsible parties are.” Scotch said.

“It sounds like we have a bit of a mystery to solve.”

“The Spies Who Solved A Mystery. It sounds a bit like the title of a B movie.”

“Spy stories are actually a sub-genre of mysteries and thrillers.” Pen pointed out as Scotch opened the kitchen door leading to a back hallway.

“Then come along Dr. Watson, the game is afoot!” Scotch grinned as he ventured out into the empty hallway.

 *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.