Chapter 10

About three minutes had gone by. Sally drank her wine, X and the Prime Minister spoke about the prospects of negotiating a new oil trade plan with Venezuela, and Ezra smiled at Grant.

“How are you Grant, it has been some time since we last saw each other.”

The air was so tense it could be cut with a swiss army knife. Ezra was like a cat, purring until it jumped on you.

Ezra looked at Agnes, then back at Grant.

“She is lovely, isn’t she?”

Grant glanced at Sally, who laughed at some joke Prime Minister Rose had told her, but she gave Grant a slight nod with her head, and put her right hand on the table, taping her fingers three times in a row.

Agnes knew something was about to go down. Grant grabbed her hand under the table.

She put on a mask, and smiled at Ezra, pretending she didn’t see anything.

“I didn’t know you would be here too. Why didn’t you tell me, back at HQ?”

She used her flirtiest voice, fluttered her eyelashes, but inside, she was on the brink of destruction. Her whole idea of romance, of a man loving her, now in her life, was quickly shattering. Ezra had deceived her; she could feel it.

Ezra looked at his watch, then at Grant.

“Well Agnes, to be honest, you are not on the top of my list. What are you, my girlfriend?”

It was like a bullet to the heart, quick, and deadly. So, Agnes, you knew this day would come, you deluded yourself even to the very end, she heard her mind tell her.

She was unlovable, and, even this, even when she had grown into her own, become a freakin’ spy, men used her. Grant clenched his right fist, but he looked at Ezra, with such hate and vengeance, that Agnes thought he would shoot him right there.

Grant whispered under his breath.

“When I say go, run out the front door, to the Gielgud Theater. Got it?”

She softly nodded. She felt like a broken human, at the mercy of whatever this man told her.

Sally put her glass down and looked at Grant.

“Well, it’s time for the main course,” she said, flipping her hair.

Grant smiled, then pushed Agnes out of her chair.

“Go!”

Agnes heard gunshots from one of the corners of the restaurant. She covered her face with her forearm, and just ran as fast as she could in her heels. Grant shielded her as long as he could, until he threw himself onto the floor, taking cover. Ezra ran after Agnes. Sally shot at Ezra, and protected the Prime Minister, who was the only innocent party in the whole restaurant. Everybody was either an agent for Sally, MI6, or working for the Venezuelan government. Tommy was hiding under the table, shaking, holding his handgun.

Sally shouted to Grant, “Go after him! Don’t let him take her!”

Grant crawled through the floor, under tables, shooting at double agents, making his way to the front door and into the night. He ran out to the Gielgud Theater, as fast as his legs would carry him.

Agnes, please be there, Agnes please be there, please God, keep her safe, I should have told her, I should have warned her, before she got in too deep with Ezra, he told himself. Grant bumped into a couple walking, ran across the street, and almost got run over by incoming traffic. Cars honked their horns, cabbies shouted, and people yelled at him, “Oi! Watch it!”

He saw the doors of the Gielgud Theater, he pushed them in, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Pitch black. He wasn’t sure if Agnes was here, if she was here by herself, or if Ezra had caught her and taken her with him somewhere else. All he could do now was hope she was as good a spy as he thought she was. He held his gun steady in his hand and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He heard the creaky wood of the theater and started to see the entrance to the actual theater hall, the lobby, and the plush sofas in the vestibule. He walked towards the middle of the round room and checked all the doors. Nobody there. He wanted to be silent, but he needed to see if she was there.

“Agnes?!” Grant whispered.

He heard a struggle from inside the theater hall. He ran in, as quiet as a ghost. The stage safety lights were on, so he could see a bit more. At the foot of the stage, he saw something, it looked like a large bag, thrown down, but it was moving a little. Agnes! He ran to her.

Agnes lay as still as she could, she did not want Grant to come towards her.

“Stay away!” she whispered.

Grant stopped. He crouched behind the fourth row; he was at arm’s reach of her. She did not look injured. He could not make out her face yet.

“Are you all right Agnes?” Grant whispered.

“Shh, he is watching.” Agnes didn’t want him to get near her, but she moved her head up. Grant turned around, looked above, to the balcony seats, and sure enough, Ezra was watching them, pointing his gun.

“I see you Grant.”

He froze. Like a cat too, but he, unlike Ezra, had learned to keep his emotions out of a mission.

“Grant,” Agnes whispered. He glanced ever so slightly back, to look at her.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry I did not believe you, and when we got to Texas—” Agnes was trembling, her voice high and sweet, like a child’s.

Grant shook his head, unnoticeable to Ezra, but Agnes could see it.

“Shhhh.”

She nodded. Grant started to slowly stand up, but before he was fully up, he said something he should have told her a long time ago, “I love you. Just know that.”

He was facing Ezra, at peace, and would die for Agnes if he needed to.

Agnes could not help but smile and feel butterflies in her stomach. The theater’s rug was itchy, her dress was a mess, and Ezra had bumped her head on the stage floor before she had fallen to the floor, but, she was happy, she was at peace. And, she knew, she would die for Grant if she had to.

Ezra shouted to Grant.

“Hands up!”

Grant put his hands over his head. Then, he shouted back at him.

“What do you want Ezra, how can this possibly help your fiancée.”

Ezra yelled back at Grant.

“You don’t speak about her! Ever!”

Grant knew Ezra was emotional and could kill him and Agnes at any moment. He made sure to stand blocking Agnes from Ezra’s line of fire.

“All right Ezra, what do you want?”

Agnes felt her gun between her thighs. She was waiting for the right moment to make her move. She watched Grant. He was solid enough to blind Ezra’s eyes from her body’s movements. She slowly moved her hands, so slowly, up her dress, to slide her gun out from between her legs. She took the safety off and breathed.

“I want Agnes to come with me to Venezuela.”

Grant backed up closer to Agnes. It would be impossible for Ezra to see this, from high above.

“ I’m afraid that’s not possible Ezra.”

At this point, Agnes interjected, shouting at Ezra from the floor, holding the gun under her dress.

“Ezra,”

Ezra yelled, “You! If you don’t come with me, you will both die!”

She clutched her gun and remembered all the moments when someone forced her into something she didn’t want to do, when her emotions and weakness had taken control of her, when a bully, a madman, had strangled her lifeforce, and almost killed her. She blocked all the kisses and orgasms Ezra had given her, and slowly began to stand up, and with all her strength, shouted back at Ezra, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why didn’t you just ask me to help you? I would have...”

Agnes stopped. She realized she was getting emotional and was about to cry. She took a breath. Grant heard her and took over.

“Ezra, there is still a way out, without doing this.”

Ezra shouted down.

“Shut up! Agnes, listen to me, you need to come with me. You love me, so prove it, baby, come and help me, just do it!”

Agnes had reached a low squat. At this moment, if she were in a training session with Danka, and she were on the field, practicing, it was target practice. From a difficult range, and position, you would count to three, then confront, aim, and shoot. She counted to three, then stood up.

“Ezra… darling… I understand.”

Grant heard her moving but couldn’t see her.

Confront, aim, and fire. He stood still and heard the gunshot. Grant watched Ezra aim at Agnes, but he was a split second too late.

The bullet went straight through Ezra’s forehead, killing him between his eyes.

Agnes lowered the gun and stood still.

“He never said it in public. He never looked at me in public. He… you were right… Grant…”

Agnes shook a little. The adrenaline rushed through her veins. It had started to rev up from the moment Grant had put his hand on the small of her back, at The Palomar. She hadn’t known how much she needed his touch, wanted his touch, until he gave it to her.

Grant turned slowly. Agnes was standing, arms to her sides, like a lifeless doll. She looked down from the balcony to Grant.

“I always wanted to believe him... I made myself think he was the best I would ever have. But he wasn’t what I really wanted. He… he wasn’t…”

Grant slowly walked towards her. He reached and took the gun from her hand and put it in his jacket. Then, he touched her face, softly, as if she was a delicate pink rose. She closed her eyes. His fingers traced her cheeks, her forehead, then her lips.

He nodded, then answered her.

“I know.”

She remembered what she had told him the bird landed in the airport in Dallas.

………………………….

“You will never find love, you will never, ever know what it’s like, because you push everybody away! You don’t want to know me; you won’t ever speak to me again!”

That was the moment Grant tried to tell her Ezra was just using her, for reasons he could not disclose. She yelled at him as they landed, the helicopter crew confused in this new situation. A rookie, yelling at a seasoned spy. Agnes took off her safety belts, pushed the copilot out of her way, and ran onto the landing strip. They were in the Dallas airport, the jet about one hundred feet away from them. She couldn’t go, she refused to be strapped to someone who wanted nothing more than her blind obedience. She saw the control tower, and she ran. It was close to five thirty in the morning.

Grant ran after her, risking his reputation and his crew for this girl. She had no idea, not the slightest clue the trust he had put in her. He ran up the steps, into the main room. She stood in the middle, the sly painting the background through the clear, huge glass window.

She gave him her back, looking out into the horizon.

“Stop it! Right now, Agnes, stop this childish behavior. You are better than this!”

She turned around, and gave him some insight, “I am not a dog, you know?! I have been following you, faithfully, without demanding or asking anything! And, you can’t just let me eat in peace, and enjoy the one thing I got out of this?! A man who loves me, huh?!

She meant Ezra. His heart broke as she said these words. Her eyes were red, probably a combination of exhaustion and irritation of the desert and the breeze from the helicopter. He had to get her into that jet, no matter how much she would hate him, but, at this moment, he shielded his heart and soul from what he felt for her.

“I will only say this once: if you decide to run away from me again, you are all on your own. After this test and process, we will have to make sure you do not speak of what you have heard, seen, and lived through, to anyone. It will be your word against the British governments... I will not tolerate this. Now, pull yourself together, and get on that jet, agent 009.”

Agnes was stunned. He had called her 009. She had a...job. This was it. All the joy from having passed the test, to even meeting him in the middle of nowhere, at midnight, on a desolate desert road, came rushing back to her. This is why she had followed him.

She wanted to smile, couldn’t give that up so easily. She wiped her face and let out a huff. Then, cleared her throat, and nodded. She walked past him, down the stairs, and he followed her.

The sun was coming up. The light was changing, and so was Agnes.

Down the stairs, Grant watched Agnes move. Her legs were agile, she placed her feet carefully on each step, and her hips had a different sway about them now. How could she have changed so much in three days. She was a completely different person now. Beautiful. Strong. She was his for a little while longer, until they landed at Heathrow, and Danka took her away.

They walked out of the tower as the sun rays hit the tracks. The light bounced from the plane to the control tower, bathing the entire view gold and white. They made their way towards the jet, Agnes in front. Grant took out his phone and called HQ.

“We’re en route, be there by tomorrow night, London time.”

Agnes walked up the stairs, and inside the plane. Grant took a minute and took in the sun coming up over the horizon. He closed his eyes for a moment, and remembered, he had gotten her this far. Agnes had fallen into his life, and he would not let anything happen to her. Nobody would lie, cheat, or take her away from her freedom, ever again. Not if he could help it.

He followed her in, ran up the stairs, into the jet.

The interior was lovely, simple yet comfortable. Beige leather seats, three rows, two seats to each. Lavatories in the back, where there was a small kitchen, with everything a spy would need: espresso machine, champagne, caviar, and vodka.

“Welcome 008,” said the flight attendant. He motioned to the seat where Agnes had laid down, curled up in a ball, already asleep.

Grant nodded.

“Let’s go home.”

Then, off the plane went, up and up, into the sky.

…………………………….

Grant held her chin in his hand. Agnes took his other hand, touched it with her fingers, feeling the tip of her fingers tingle with excitement.

“Forgive me,” said Agnes shakily, feeling his other hand smoothly trace her arm, then find its way to her waist.

Grant shook his head.

“No need, 009.”

She breathed deeply. Grant stepped away, then walked to the stage left stairs onto the platform.

Agnes looked at him, and she knew she had to respond to what he had told her.

“Grant,”

He looked down at her, smiling, and as she was about to tell him, all of the stage lights turned on.

Shouts were heard from outside the theater vestibule, and Agnes turned to the theater hall entrance. Sally and X ran in, down the aisles, toward them.

“009, 008! HQ is gone, it’s all up in smoke, the Venezuelan militia has rogue agents in there, demolished it! With agents inside!!!”

Shots were heard, yells and screams in Spanish came to the street; Agnes could understand them.

Sally grabbed Agnes by the arm.

“You have to get out of London, or the UK, and hide. We all have kill marks, by the Venezuelan military. God knows who else. You have not gotten to this part of your training, but, you must now go into hiding, while still maintaining contact with us.”

X ran up the stage stairs to Grant.

“You have to stay here and run our covert ops from MI6. Sally needs you to assist in negotiating with Venezuela, to extract agents from missions that have been compromised.”

Agnes saw blood all over Sally’s white dress.

“Where is the Prime Minister?”

Sally looked at her with heavy eyes.

“He was taken...by Danka... was a double agent. After you and Grant ran out, she came to The Palomar, and dragged him out, into a car, and to the private terminal to one of our jets, they are on their way to Caracas right now.”

Agnes could not believe it.

“No! That is not possible! She was my friend!”

Grant ran down the stairs, X following him. He put his hand on her shoulder, and convinced her, this was the truth.

“Agnes, I had been watching her too, Sally is right, she was approached by the Venezuelan military with a very large sum of money, just hours before the dinner tonight.... She was not plotting against you, but she did compromise classified information, and is now… a traitor.”

Agnes was livid, but she needed to focus.

Sally pushed Agnes and Grant toward the emergency exit, X following them.

“Go to your flat, and pack. You must now pretend you have a regular life now. You have to go somewhere where you can survive on your own and wait for us to make contact.”

They heard the theater doors break, and men shouting, running into the theater. Agnes looked at Grant, X and Sally looked up at the men coming in.

“Go, I will cover for you,” X told them. He took out his gun and fired his first shot. Sally smiled and ran with Grant and Agnes. X put up a good five seconds of gunfire, but then Sally ran and pulled him with them.

“X, come on! Save the heroics for later!” Sally shouted, pulling X with her.

They ran out of the theater through the stagehand entrance, and into the street. X shouted after Grant, running in the other direction with Sally.

“Grant! Help her leave by tomorrow!”

Agnes just kept running. Grant pulled her to a stop. They had run all the way past The Palomar, and down to Coventry Street. She was out of breath. He grabbed both her arms and waited as she caught her breath. She looked at his face.

“Agnes, I…”

His eyes were pure, and she loved him.

Agnes pulled him towards her and kissed him.

Now she could finally breathe. Her lungs filled with their shared air, and her heart started to magically heal from the rot and darkness Ezra had left in it.

Grant responded to her kiss slowly, savoring her lips for the first time. Then, he put his hands on her face, and absorbed her body into his. After a moment, he stopped, and smiled.

Agnes looked around, thinking of where to go, how to best get out of here, as Grant touched her lips with his fingers.

“You did that very well,” he said out of breath.

She shrugged her shoulders. Try and be cool for once Agnes, she told herself.

“Oh, gee, thanks 008.”

He laughed. Grant came back to reality and grabbed her hand.

“We need to go to your place, stay there, and then get you out of London.”

They ran to the corner, in front of the Prince of Wales Theater, and Grant started hailing a cab.

“I am calling Reggie,” Agnes pushed his arm down.

“Who?” Grant asked, annoyed.

“My guardian angel slash driver Grant, you don’t have one?” Agnes said.

Grant thought for a moment.

“No, I don’t.”

Grant put his hand on her waist as Agnes waited for Reggie to answer.

She grinned as Grant nibbled at her neck, then Reggie answered. She pulled away.

“Reggie, you should have wished me luck! I need you to come get me, asap. Corner of Coventry and Rupert… thanks.”

Grant pulled her into him, nuzzling her nose with his. Then, she remembered, the Venezuelan guerrilla was after her.

“Wait, we could get shot!” She pulled away. She grabbed his hand, and ran to a building corner, in a dark alley. Grant pulled her close once more.

“Good thinking 009,” then he slowly put his lips on hers.

At that moment, the men shouting in Spanish ran past them, but Grant and Agnes remained unnoticed in the dark corridor, behind old buildings and foggy lamplights. Agnes could hear them yelling at one another in Spanish, cursing and pissing off. Obviously, they were not familiar with London and could not find them easily. She had a great advantage over them: she was home. Grant kissed her neck softly.

“008, we need to be ready for Reggie, he will be here any minute,” Agnes muttered under her breath as she kissed his earlobes. Grant whispered to her.

“Indeed, ready for what is to come.” He looked into her eyes and saw the answer to his question.

“Since you love me too, we need to plan you coming back to London, after you leave…”

She had to leave him now, right now, when they could be together finally. Agnes shook her head.

“Maybe there is a way for me to stay,” she began to say, when she saw Reggie pull up at the corner.

“Reggie!” Agnes said, and ran out with Grant. She opened the door, slid in, Grant behind her, and slammed the door.

“Drive Reggie!” Agnes yelled. Reggie nodded, and sped away. He laughed at her as he raced down the street.

“What did you do Saint Agnes…” Reggie asked her, shaking his head.

“Long story,” Agnes replied, as she looked out the window. Grant reached for her hand and held it tight.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” Reggie remarked, looking through the mirror.

Grant laughed, and Agnes sat up straight.

“Reggie, this is Grant Thornton, 008.”

Grant put out his hand, and Reggie shook it quickly, smiling.

“All right Agnes, hang on now, gonna get you home,” and Reggie slammed on the accelerator, driving them by the side streets, as fast as the car would let him.

Reggie pulled up to her apartment building and slammed on the breaks.

“Agnes, my girl,” Reggie turned back to look at her as she was getting out of the car.

“Reggie,” she said, realizing they were to say their last goodbye, till she came back to London.

“You come back now; you hear?.. This is your home now. You understand 009?”

He looked sad, proud, yet worried for her.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Reggie, you’ll be seeing me again. I promise.” She was about to cry when Grant interrupted.

“Move it 009, we need to get inside.”

Reggie nodded, and she got out of the car. Grant grabbed her hand and ran inside the building. They got into the elevator. She pushed number 10, and the elevator doors shut. Grant grabbed her and pulled her tight into his embrace.

“I will make sure you come back here,” he promised as he kissed her. She just wanted to be here, like this, and not have to leave it all behind.

They got to her apartment, and she opened the door. Grant closed it for her, locked it, and looked around.

“It’s too big for you,” he said.

Agnes ran into her bedroom, and looked around, panicking a bit. How could she do this again? Leave, take up and go, alone, uprooting herself from the people and place she loved?

Grant came in. Her bedroom was simple, all white, with a desk, a dresser, and large windows with sheer white curtains.

“Close the curtains,” he told her. She looked at him.

“Grant, how… how can I do this…” she buried her face in her hands. Grant came up to her and took her hands away from her face.

“It is easy. Walk to the window, and pull the curtains shut…” he whispered to her.

“Tonight, we will figure it out… but now… close the curtains.”

He looked into her eyes, and she looked into his, seeing the future they had waiting for them, one day. It was there.

“All right then,” she responded in a whisper.