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Special Report
out by Agent Hill
It was warm and sunny still -- the rain had not yet begun to
fall. I circled the premises searching for an appropriate
parking spot, and making sure I wasn't followed.
So far so good.
I entered the building and saw my handler just inside the door.
There were more people than I was comfortable with, but knowing
the importance of this mission, I decided to risk it. A quick
nod, and we were engaged.
"Castro" I whispered.
My handler looked both ways and presented me with an envelope.
The envelope.
I pocketed the envelope, and ducked into the restroom. Not only
did this give me a chance to gain control of my immediate
surroundings, it also allowed me the opportunity to get my hair
just right. The spy game is dirty business, but if my number is
called I am going to make sure I go out with good hair.
Everything looked right.
I stepped out of the restroom and right into line. Looking over
my shoulder, I opened the envelope and read my mission: Acquire
a "Flying Dutchman" by any means necessary. Fortunately, the
means were also provided by a small stack of bills tucked inside
the envelope. Man, these guys were good.
Finally, the front of the line. Two men greeted me then
proceeded to take my order, just as if they had no clue about
what was going to take place.
"I'd like a #2, animal style" I said.
Leaning forward and capturing the cashier's focus with a
commanding voice I ordered, "and a Flying Dutchman".
The cashier looked nervous. He turned to his trainer and asked
for direction, "I'm not familiar with that one, Boss."
I thought for sure this was trouble. But "Boss" stepped in and
completed the transaction. "One Flying Dutchman. Oh, and here's
your change. You are customer #20"
"Customer #20? Was that code? Oh snap!" I thought to myself.
I took my change and my customer number and sat down with an
"old friend". Well, not so much of an old friend as a lackey I
had met on the street and sent in ahead of me to shake the
bushes -- just in case. I've been at this too long to go in
cold.
The wait wasn't excruciating, and soon enough "Order number
twenty" was heard over the loud speaker. I walked up to the
counter, took my tray and winked at the girl at the pickup
counter. No, this wasn't a secret signal, I just thought she was
cute.
Back at the table with "old friend" I found my Flying Dutchman
between the Animal Style cheeseburger and the fries. I was
astonished. It exists! The Flying Dutchman is real! Upon closer
inspection I concluded that it consisted of 2 slices of meat and
2 slices of cheese sitting on top of a paper wrapper.
I looked to my left just to make sure nobody was watching, and
took a bite. Only two words came to mind: "Meaty" and "Cheesey"
The animal style burger was delicious and the fries were just as
I remembered them. I engaged in just enough small talk to not
appear suspicious as I consumed my lunch. When it was done, all
that remained was the Flying Dutchman minus a bite.
Just as i was about to leave I saw another agent "Angry Smurf"
who had somehow managed to gather a "Grilled Cheese". If only
we'd have known earlier, we could have matched up the Dutchman
with the Grilled Cheese and had ourselves a full "Double
Double". But that's what happens in the spy game -- the left
hand never knows what the right hand is doing.
I sped off, never looking back, mostly because I didn't want to
see the face of the lady I had cut off trying to get out of the
parking lot.
"Castro" |
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