Spies - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Being a spy came naturally to Sabrina. As a child she had eaves dropped on doors, at bedtime pinning her best ear to the dusty boards to hear what the grown-ups had to say. As a teen she had known everything about everyone, always the goldmine of information. The only difference now was that she got paid a huge sum for her ability to gather sensitive intel and with her training she could also kick ass should it be necessary.
We've been in neutral gear for so long, falling so deep into our "cover" that we've started to act like we're really married. Then out of nowhere Jock gives me the double kiss, one on each cheek, the tiny pool of saliva freezing on both sides. It's the signal. Phase two of the mission has begun. He touches my face, pulls my blue woollen hat down over my pinked ear. As he does so I hear the voice of headquarters loud and clear through the tiny ear piece he's inserted...
Karissa had been a spy so long she no longer remembered what it was like to be herself. She was either the person undercover, roles she adapted to so well she became that other person in a way, like an alternative life. When she was pulled out she was the professional, giving reports and being debriefed. The girl she had been, the one who skipped stones into the winter ocean and crab fished each summer was all but gone.
It was another search and terminate mission. I was in Weapon X, an experimental group, half of us had some kind of condition of the mind. Jeremy was bipolar, Joe was high functioning autistic and Kerry had both perfectionism and a small case of bibliomania. It was these conditions that gave us the advantage - and those are the only conditions I can put a name on. I had done the search and terminate missions exactly 935 times. I opened my weapons container and took out a fire retardant suit and a flame thrower. I squealed like a little girl as my pyromania kicked in. Well I wasn't getting fired this time or least not yet.
Without warning the ground under-boot shakes and the cold November air is rent with a noise that leaves our ears feeling like they just exploded. Without a conscious decision to drop we are all on the chilled mud and rock, hands clasped over our ears tight. Julia is first to recover, and though all I can see is the profile of her face, I know it's bad. Her eyes are tilted upward and her unspeaking mouth is a perfect “o.” There is no colour to her face. She stands statue like before sinking to her knees. When I turn the sky that was blue just moments before is filled with black smoke, billowing upward in growing plumes. All that can be seen of the mountain though the dark veil is the lava that flows in thick rivers, burning a path as it goes. We can't out-run hot magma and it will burn everything in its path. Already Julia is digging a hole, not for herself but for the evidence we gathered on our mission. She's got it bundled with a GPS tracker and stuffed in tupperware. I get my shovel
Our best family tradition is saving one another, but I guess that's what happens when you're a family of secret agents. I've lost count of the number of times Jacob has saved me, and I him, but that's the way we choose to live. We could climb mountains, go fishing or ride horses into the sunrise, but we do best when we focus on our mission.
“Agent Brown, was your last assignment in Syria?”
“Sir, that is confidential, and I cannot answer.”
“I assume the answer is yes. While in Syria, did you and her agents of the Special Committee infiltrate the government interior building?”
“Sir, that is confidential, and I cannot answer.”
“Agent Brown, this is a formal investigation of your agency. Do we need to contact the president to make you answer?”
The agent’s head went down, hit the table hard, and he fell unconscious to the floor. The guards rushed to the body, examined the downed man.
“Sir, this is not the agent. They sent his duplicate robot. It looks like the robot has a power failure.”
“No, they shut it down. This is an outrage. Get me the head of that Special Committee right now.”
“Sir, they are not answering." Voice says, “This not a working number.”
Jess thought, “I wanted to fight for my country, but are these spy missions as important as they tell us?” What if I get caught? Jess knew the SS troopers would severely torture him until he spilled his gut. Those American movies where the hero is captured and never reveal secrets is a joke to real British commandos. Under extreme torture, anyone is going to break and talk, The unit major told them that this was why they were given only information vital to any specific mission. Jess wanted to know more of the full plans, but he only questioned his present assignment. Where and what are we looking for?
Jess liked dealing with the French Resistance, he realized they were on a "need to know" basis too. Often, they never knew the resistance people in the village down the road. They risked their lives daily, to rescue downed pilots, and spy on the Nazis. If captured, Resistance people, men and women, are tortured to death.
What can I say, he was my friend. Ally sounds so cold, as if it were a business arrangement or some alliance of convenience. We weren't either of those things. He had a place in my heart, and though he never said it the truth was in his eyes. I would have levelled armies to save him if I ever had to, or ever could, because I loved him. But then, friendship is a love, isn't it? It's a bond and what else are they? To everyone else, to the ones who look onward and make their own assumptions, each of them worth the same as their weight, we are allies.