Chapter 15
The icy mountain air on the Blue Ridge mountains was a constant reminder, that my life, the life everyone led all across the globe, was a hard one to process. When you think you know what will happen next, or how the events of the world will undoubtedly affect you… think again.
The world is on the brink of ending as we know it, and there are now two enemies I must confront: a possible South American dictator who wants to control under a fist of steel all of the beauty and natural resources of the entire continent, and myself.
Sitting in that cab Ben and Grant, I couldn’t face myself.
Had this all been my fault? Had I betrayed Grant by falling in love with someone else?
The hate I had felt for myself years ago, started to bubble up again, permeating my blood, my heart, and then, my mind.
I royally, sucked.
There was no way I could have predicted the turn of events that had unfolded...no, that had come avalanching into my life like a snowball from Hell: I had become a secret agent for MI6 after having been recruited by another agent, who then fell in love with me, but I hated him and fell for the man who pretended to be his friend, all the while, plotting revenge, and almost killing me, then, leaving London, back to New York City, where I lead a simple covert life, as a real estate woman, when all of a sudden, my old boss, calls me up, tells me to turn on the man who loved me, whom I was waiting for, revealing she is the true villain, and of course, in the end, there are now two men in my life, after an attack on the French embassy, a dinner date with my crush at the company I used to work in, and now, well, the collective shock and awe, of a world that may be coming to an end.
Was it safe to be around me?
The last normal moment in my life, had been indeed, when I was between the two men I had feelings for, Ben and Grant, standing in a ballroom, before guns went blazin’, people were shot, and my life was blasted into oblivion.
But now, we were in this mess together. I had dragged Ben into my life, and he wouldn’t abandon me. Grant… Grant owned my heart. We were still trying to catch our breath when we arrived at Ben’s apartment, and the cab stopped.
Ben looked at me.
“Agnes, amor… what do you want to do now…”
Grant moaned in pain; he was losing blood quickly.
It was now or never Agnes…
“Grab your passport, a duffel bag with some clothes, and if you have a bottle of vodka and rags, bring those. We are leaving for Venezuela tonight.”
Grant let out a low, painful gasp for air.
“We implies more than one person Agnes. In case you hadn’t noticed, I may be fatally shot here.”
Agnes moved over to Grant and took his face in her hands.
“Listen up, and listen good: I am not going to let you die alright? This is all my fault, I should have waited for you, I should have never even left London! But now, we are going to get out of here, and Ben is now an asset.”
Grant wanted so much to kiss Agnes; she knew that. But she let him go and pushed Ben out.
“Go, I’ll ask the driver to go around the block twice to Sally and Ina don’t spot us.”
Ben nodded, but before leaving, grabbed Agnes, and kissed her.
“I’ll be right back.”
Ben hopped out of the cab and ran into the building.
“Driver, sir, can you please circle the block twice?”
The driver sighed and threw his hands up in the air.
“I should have stayed in London!”
The cab started to move.
Agnes leaned forward.
“You’re from London?”
“Yes, I came here to retire, to stay away from this precisely, but it always catches up with me.”
Agnes could not believe it… was the cab driver a retired MI6 agent?
“Sir… do you know Sally?”
The driver looked at Agnes through the rearview mirror.
“Hutchinson?”
Agnes nodded.
The driver laughed.
“By Allah! Yes, that woman, evil snake of a person. The worst decision MI6 made was to make her director.”
They had completed one circle around the block already.
Agnes checked on Grant, who was now silent.
“Grant, stay with me, we might just have found our ticket out of here.”
Grant laughed.
“Oh Agnes...my Agnes…”
The driver turned to look at Grant.
“He is in a bad way, your friend there. He needs that bullet out, and stitches.”
They hit a bump and Grant yelled.
“Watch it!”
Agnes would take a risk by making this a four-person team with their new retiree friend, but if she didn’t, Grant would die.
“Sir, would you be willing to help us… we need to get to Venezuela. A friend is being held captive there.”
The driver made it back to the front of the building, and now they waited for Ben.
“Mmmm.”
Agnes watched the entrance of the building, begging to God Ben would come out any second now. And, waited for the driver’s decision.
“Sir… please. We just need to get out of here.”
The driver turned around to face her. He had a kind face, maybe late sixties. He had a strong Indian accent.
“ Ok. But you will do as I say until you are safely across the Mexican border, then you are on your own. I will help you get your friend here fixed up and have the three of you at the border.”
Agnes clapped, and jumped up and down, when gunshots shattered the backseat glass.
“Agnes get down!”
Ben yelled from outside, as he exited the building with a duffel bag on one, and a handgun in the other.
“Ben!”
Agnes hunched down, and opened the passenger door for Ben to throw himself in.
Grant yelled at the driver as he pulled Agnes down.
“Drive!”
Agnes hugged Grant.
“Grant, hold on.”
The driver let out a high-pitched war call.
“Do not worry my friends, I will get you to where you need to go!”
Ben checked himself, “Was I shot?”
“ Maybe, check your head,” Grant let out.
“Shut up guys, but who shot at us? I couldn’t see,” Agnes asked.
“The director and her new pet, “ the driver answered.
“ I have also been keeping up on my intel here, so don’t worry, I am actually very aware of the activity surrounding your escape. You are just lucky you got in my cab, and not in the Russian sleeper agent’s cab!”
Ben pulled Agnes towards him.
“Ines”
Agnes let Grant go, gently.
“Yes Ben, I know, I’m ok. Did you get the vodka and rags?”
Ben nodded, opening up the duffel bag.
“I also brought a sewing kit, some water, cash, toothpaste and energy bars.”
The driver laughed.
“Look at you sir, almost a spy. Oh, by the way, you can call me Raz.”
Agnes grabbed the vodka and poured it over Grant’s leg.
“Ah! Easy there girl,” Grant shouted.
“Raz, where are we going now?”
Raz Came to a stop light on 96th and West End Drive.
“Well, we have two choices: we can try and stop somewhere here in the city, Sally and her associate hot on our tracks, or… we can just drive. I have enough savings to last me a lifetime, and frankly, I could do with some excitement other than drunk ladies and fighting couples in my cab.”
Agnes took a breath and didn’t think twice.
“Drive.”
“Agnes, I’m…”
Grant started to speak but drifted off.
“Don’t Grant, I need you to drink more vodka, so I can start to try and stitch you up.”
“But Ines, this is a moving car…”
Agnes laughed, and looked at Ben.
“Perfect right?”
It was five in the morning as the cab left New York and entered New Jersey, on their long journey down to the Mexican border. Raz, Ben, and Agnes all knew they would probably never see the city again, so as they drove out over the state line, the three of them gave one more salute to the great city.
Grant slept off the procedure, the bullet having been pulled out, and his leg kind of stitched.
Agnes would not look back or think about the life she had been pretending to live.
This was her life, and the hate fueled her.
She hated herself, she hated the man who had taken Danka, and she hated Sally and Ina.
Agnes wanted revenge.
And she swore, she would have it.