I had returned to the primary undisclosed location when the message came. My Brown-eyed Girl (MBG) who handles the communications referred the matter directly to me. She handed me the dinner-plate-sized device that is her cellphone. Of course, I had provided that particular piece of hi-tech equipment to MBG, so complaints about that unit (meaning the phone, not the girl) typically meet with icy stares, or offers of a knuckle sandwich with a side of waffle-sliced earlobes. I jest; she never says such things...out loud...but I know that she thinks them: the anonymous notes and morbid drawings that appear in my lunchbox possess a frightening clarity.
The contact reported an agent in need of assistance. I double checked the information. The agent was a member of my cell; that was true; in fact, I had interacted with the agent just a few days earlier. I had to accept the assignment. I risked a communication with the agent's handler. After establishing a secure connection (via a much smaller device), the handler verified the status as reported by the contact. He had been reluctant to disclose the agent's distress. Apparently the contact had hinted at some unspecified threat; the handler, unable to take the pressure, had crumbled like a desiccated sandcastle. It was fortunate that he had, otherwise I might never have been tagged for the job.
I didn't have much time. I considered the circumstances, concluding that a two-man team would be required. If things transpired like I expected, my usual specialist wouldn't be able to handle the job. I needed someone with experience. The local commander, via encrypted message, suggested an inquiry with a veteran agent that I knew. "Veteran" might be an understatement. This guy, Helmut, had handled more missions than NASA. If he had a nickel for every assignment like this that he had completed, he could retire the national debt. Unfortunately, instead of nickels, he got gray hairs, a lot of them...all of them; but the ladies, young and old, find him terribly captivating. It makes it tough to be around him...because I always come off second best in the comparison.
I contacted Helmut's handler and passed her security check. She summoned Helmut to the phone. He confirmed his availability. As always, he was eager for another mission. I knew why...it wasn't just to get away from his handler for a while. He was a mission-high junkie. Nothing compares with the euphoria that comes with this kind of mission when it's handled properly. We had worked together before. I knew that he was fit for the task. Even if I had a complete breakdown and forgot all the protocols, odds were that Helmut could carry us through to completion. He knew that another agent was depending on him. His Terminator-like tenacity and
We arrived at the destination separately. As expected, Helmut arrived first. He visually confirmed the distressed agent's location and mapped a course to her. I followed his lead. We infiltrated the facility without difficulty. Our gal was unresponsive at first, but Helmut spoke her name in his engaging manner. She snapped to attention. Immediately she asked if we were there to render assistance. When we answered in the affirmative, she brightened, rewarding all our efforts. She reported that she had been captured the night before. They were plying her with pain, and drugs, in an attempt to break her spirit; she was too resilient, and too experienced for such amateur tactics. Her blithe attitude during the discussion assured us of her determination to holdout at all costs.
A female member of the facility's security team suddenly entered without warning before we had completed our mission. Luckily, Helmut with his +3 charisma modifier successfully distracted her with talk of a possible defection to her team for the express purpose of working with her personally. The idea enthralled her so entirely that she left us in peace without a word to the rest of the facility security team.
We couldn't remove our agent from the facility without blowing our cover; it would put the entire operation at risk. Instead, we gave her assurances from a higher authority to hold steady pending an eventual extraction. When we were done, we had learned a great deal about one another, and the area operation. I could see in the eyes of our temporarily distressed agent, that the mission had been as meaningful for her as it had for Helmut and me. Her spirit seemed even more resilient.
Just when I thought that we were about to make a clean escape, Helmut spotted that female from the security team. Always willing to risk everything on his extreme charisma, he entered into verbal communications with the security woman; he assured her that they would work together in the future. It was like watching a scene from From Russia with Love. We finally slipped away without the accompaniment of alarms, sirens, and machine gun fire. After a short congratulatory salute, Helmut and I parted ways to report back to our handlers.
Curiosity forced me to slip back into the facility the next morning. The agent in distress was still there. Her handler had managed to gain official entry via a clever ruse. Apparently, the enemy had determined that the drugs were insufficient to break her. They were going to transfer her to a more secure facility for the application advanced interrogation techniques. I was forced to leave as the transfer team approached to avoid being apprehended myself.
The enemy encountered logistical problems and had to abandon the transfer; her handler executed a delayed but successful extraction later in the day.
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