Agent Acquisition
Submission for NYC Midnight 2022 Short Story Challenge - 2500 words
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Subject: Deskbound
Character: a snorer
Months ago, Natasha Carter received the promotion to field agent over Ray Dunn. Ray spent a couple days pretending to be happy for her. But he vented his frustrations in private to Agent Carrillo, a friend who also enjoyed the action-filled life of international espionage.
“I don’t believe this! I graduated operative training the same time as her with higher marks. Plus, I speak fluent Arabic, and Russian! What’s Carter got that I don’t?”
“A pair of tits!” joked Carrillo.
“Seriously though, Alex?”
“I don’t know. But I figure the higher-ups think she has a knack for ‘agent acquisition’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She’s prettier than you. She’s the perfect honey pot…oh and I suppose she’s also a skilled agent and can think on her feet and all that.”
“That’s it, huh? Natasha looks better in lipstick and heels so I don’t even get a chance?”
“Um. I mean you can try showing up to work in a little red dress if you want. But then I think you’d be more suited for the FBI.” Carrillo winked.
“…Fuck you.”
Ray analyzed intelligence. Not because he couldn’t handle field work. Not because he got tinnitus from years of exposure to gunshots and explosions in the Marines, (which he never told his superiors about.) But because he was overlooked in favor of an attractive woman. He never wanted to be confined to a desk.
Natasha was out in the world doing all that she must to achieve results. Stories abounded about her. The weeks on end she spent in Beirut, Berlin, and Bogota dancing, killing, and fucking her way to foreign policy objectives.
Ray didn’t love hearing about all that. Carrillo believed Ray had the hots for her and wouldn’t admit it. He was one of Ray’s better friends from the pool of assassins in the National Clandestine Service - a group of uber-masculine, suave, ex-military types.
Carrillo said: “Man, Natasha is a minx!”
“What do you mean?” asked Ray. He regarded his spy friend with a suspicious squint. “Did you—”
“Yup! I slept with her. We all did, man!” He threw his arms out as if signaling behind him to an audience of Natasha’s former CIA lovers.
“Ok! I get it.
“Yea, man. I did. So did Doyle and Stevens. She’s not shy!”
“Meaning?’”
“I mean she’s into freaky stuff!”
Carrillo winked.
“Are you done?” asked Ray.
“I’m sorry, man. I’m just trying to get you out of your head and start thinking about meeting someone in DC. Someone who isn’t off boning some fat diplomat in Budapest or Kiev or Riyadh every week.”
“I’m not interested in Natasha, Alex.”
“You’re just salty you’re deskbound and not out runnin’ and gunnin.’
“Pretty much…”
“Whatever you say, bro!”
--
Ray did get back to dating, a luxury his domestic career afforded him. Slowly, he overcame his vindictive attitude towards Natasha. It helped that he never saw her and only heard about her when his analytical products aided her operational work in various world regions. They had cordial, conversations now and again when he was providing her intel over a secure line or messaging app.
In one conversation Ray sent Natasha a message saying: How are your ‘asset acquisitions’ going? ;)
He was trying to be friendly, and yes, a bit cheeky. It didn’t go over so well.
She responded: What’s that supposed to mean?
Ray took that as confirmation of Carrillo’ claims about her ‘methods.’
Oh, nothing. Just curious.
--
The spies in Ray Dunn’s division had a string of exciting work that left his office frustrations to rise again, though he did well keeping them under the surface. Carrillo was out of contact on a long-term assignment in South America. Doyle had disappeared with millions in agency funds. Tensions were fragile.
--
That week, Ray’s division chief called him into an empty conference room. He was caught off guard when he saw Natasha sitting by a projector screen at the head of the table. “Hello,” he said with a smile and a wave. Ray hoped to seem nonchalant, but he suspected this meeting was called because of the message that Natasha didn’t respond well to.
“Ray, starting this Friday Agent Carter here will be undertaking an assignment in Egypt where she’ll require additional analytical support. I want you on hand to provide her with up-to-the-minute situational awareness.”
“I’d be happy to,” Ray lied. In truth, he had grown quite content with his desk-bound life. The resentment he once harbored for Natasha for getting the field promotion over him had dissipated and he was looking forward to a carefree weekend with a new romantic interest: a young State Department analyst.
“That’s good to know, Ray. The situation might get pretty hairy. I might even be doing some asset acquisition,” said Natasha, shooting a sly smirk at Dunn while the chief wasn’t looking.
“Got it,” said Ray. “So, I’ll just have to be here at HQ tracking her movements and providing updates while she’s on assignment?”
“Actually, I thought it would be best if you accompanied her to Cairo to avoid delays and provide any emergency assistance, if necessary,” replied the chief.
Ray gulped. What? He thought. I have to go with this bitch all the way to North Africa while she sips cocktails and seduces politicians?
“I understand it’s a big ask…for an analyst,” said Natasha, giving Ray another superior smirk. “But I think you’re up to the task, and I need all the help I can get.”
“I’ll leave you two to hammer out the mission details. Find me when you’re done.” The chief exited the room before Ray could furnish a response.
“What is this really about?” asked Ray. “Am I handling your schedule and picking up your dry cleaning while you chat up mukhabarat agents and go to embassy parties?”
“No. I don’t need any of that. You’re babysitting me because the chief is worried I’ll get caught or misbehave since the other agents are occupied or missing,” replied Natasha.
A beat as they glared at one another.
“I don’t wanna go.”
“Too bad, buddy. I’ve got three massive suitcases for all my makeup and outfits and I’ll be damned if I’m going to lug all that crap through three airports.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake—”
“I hear you’ve done some asset acquisition of your own, mister. How’s your little State Department piece of ass?”
“Have you been spying on me?” asked Ray.
“It’s what I do,” Natasha said, casually.
Another pause as Ray looked around to see if anyone was watching. “You know I hate you, right?” he asked.
“Anything else?”
“Yea, everyone thinks you’re a ho.”
--
Ray sat in coach between an overweight husband and wife who assumed no one was going to book the middle seat in their row and resented him for doing it. They kept tight grips over both arm rests and routinely leaned over Ray to argue through mouthfuls of Cheetos. Meanwhile, he could see Natasha just past the lavatories in first class, laughing and drinking champagne with a handsome businessman.
--
Twenty-three hours later, they unpacked their suitcases from separate, but adjoining rooms. Natasha pleasantly tipped their bellboy and put on loud classical music. She put on a robe and started a bubble bath before closing the divider between hers and Ray’s rooms. As soon as she did, some children in the next room started a rambunctious game, which banged on Ray’s wall and short-circuited the TV he was watching the news on.
Ray’s small suitcases carried all the heaviest and most delicate objects: an emergency medical kit, several laptops, monitors, and surveillance gear.
The mission involved Natasha getting close to a colonel at a Saudi embassy gala to steal a flash drive detailing a large purchase of Russian arms.
--
Natasha knocked at his door hours later, after Ray set up his command center and was busy monitoring police and military movements. Ray opened the door preparing to give Natasha an unwelcome greeting. The sight of her changed that. She was dressed to kill in red and gold silk that hugged her every curve and made Ray try his best to simply admire the necklace of gold medallions across her chest. Unable to hide his stunned eyes, he realized why she was the agent and why he had been overlooked.
“Hi! Up here,” she said.
“You…you—”
“Yes?”
“I’ve got all the comms wired up. I’ll be tracking your location all night.”
She tapped the door frame and turned to leave. “Looks like the comms aren’t all that’s wired up.”
He chuckled, nervously staring at her again.
“Try and enjoy yourself, ok? Order some room service. Big minibar in here.” She gestured her head to her suite.
“Be safe. I got your back,” he exhaled.
“Excellent,” she sighed. “Well, wish me luck. Don’t wait up.”
With one last smile, she walked out.
--
But Ray did wait up. He watched her location dot until it left the embassy at 2am and then spent a few hours at a luxury hotel. Relief washed over him when she returned to the hotel and he heard her door shut. He listened for another voice or set of footsteps but heard none. He hesitated to knock on the dividing door, lest she have a companion. He went to call her room phone, but her voice came through the wall.
“Hey Ray?”
He opened the door. She looked tired.
“How did it go?”
“Easy! He passed out while I was taking his pants off.” She held up the flash drive and smiled at Ray’s bashful expression. “I’m not feeling great. Let’s debrief in the morning.”
“Ok.”
Dunn packed everything but a laptop showing the hotel’s security cameras, then went to bed.
--
An alarm blared from the laptop. Ray shot up. Armed men in suits were climbing the hotel’s emergency staircase towards his and Natasha’s floor.
“Oh fuck!”
He banged on her door. “Natasha we gotta go, right now!” No response. He kept banging. The armed men were two floors away.
“Natasha!” Fuck it. He kicked her door open and rushed to her bed. She was asleep, still in her evening clothes. He shook her. “Hey! Wake up!”
Nothing. He leaned in. Her heart was beating. He moved his ear to her face. She’s breathing. Then he jumped back because Natasha started to snore. And not a lady’s snore. She sounded like a wildebeest that just swallowed a frog! What the fuck?!
He shook her again, then yelled in her face. “Natashaaa!”
Ray went to a bucket holding a champagne bottle and chucked the mostly melted ice into her face. She managed to roll over and snore some more as Ray held a pose of disbelief. “C’mon!”
He unwound the muzzle over the champagne cork, shook the bottle, then popped it and shot the contents all over her. No dice.
A thought occurred. Ray put his head to her heart again. The beating had slowed. Ray sprinted back to his room and returned with the emergency kit until he found a syringe. Placing Natasha on her back, he plunged the needle into her heart, pushing out every drop of adrenaline.
Natasha awoke with a gasp, “What the fuck, Ray! Why am I all wet?”
“We need to leave now! They’re here!”
Ray began toweling the champagne-ice bath off her. “Get changed. Grab only what you need. I’ll hold them off.”
He ran for the door and grabbed a chair, shaking Natasha’s toiletry bag off it. A massive bottle of KY jelly fell out. Hmm. He took the bottle and chair out to the stairwell. The assailants were close. He squeezed the lube all over the lower staircase and handrails, then wedged the chair against the door, before putting his ear to it. He could hear a jumble of men slip and crash. He snickered as he ran back. Natasha was ready. Dunn got his things and the pair booked it down the hall to a freight elevator.
“Why the hell did you just shoot me full of adrenaline?” she asked.
“Because you wouldn’t wake up from your…psycho-sleep! Dude, how the hell are you a spy?”
Natasha hesitated. “Maybe I was poisoned?” she asked meekly.
“Mhm. Poisoned and still snoring?” He smirked. She shrugged.
He held her wrist and looked in her eyes. “Look, you’re safe now.”
“Yea, I am. Thanks to you.”
She threw her an arm around his neck and kissed him. He cradled the back of her head and clutched the still wet hair.
They walked out of the hotel’s service entrance, hand-in-hand.
--
Natasha and Ray sought refuge at the US Embassy and handed over the flash drive to the CIA liaison: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
Natasha drugged the colonel’s drink earlier the previous night. Evidently, he did the same to her at his hotel!
“Hm. That’s why I couldn’t wake you up,” Ray figured.
“That was a rookie move on my part,” Natasha lamented. “I never let a drink out of my sight.”
“But what about that snoring? I mean wow!”
She shrugged. “Can you live with that?”
Ray shrugged back. “I guess. I don’t know. Let’s see how bad it gets,” he joked.
Natasha stepped back, blushing. Ray took her hand, pulled her in, and kissed her more passionately than ever. He didn’t care if she snored. Whatever imperfections she had, he loved her for them.
The pair decided to take a cruise down the Nile to celebrate their victory and debunk some of the myths Carrillo led Ray to believe:
“I didn’t sleep with any of those guys! I think Carrillo just told you that to make you feel better you didn’t get the agent promotion.” She teasingly patted Ray’s chest.
“About that promotion,” Natasha continued. “I spoke with the division chief about your performance last night.”
“Oh yea?”
“Mhm. I told him how you saved my life, creatively prevented us from getting captured, and calmly got us to safety.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“You’ve been promoted to field agent, effective immediately…if you want it.”
Ray was speechless.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes! I think so. But what about us?”
“Well, clearly we make an excellent team.”
“Yea but, as proper spies, wouldn’t we both need to sleep with other people in the course of our duties?”
Natasha thought a moment. “Maybe. But in that case, we could have a ‘professionally open relationship.’ Could you live with that?”
Ray kissed her. “I can live with that.”
“And then maybe with that reality we have a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ aspect to our relationship,” she added.
“Then let’s promise to enjoy the times we have together more than any other.”
“Deal!”
They kissed.
When Natasha fell asleep, Ray could hear his tinnitus acting up in the silence of the boat ride. Natasha started snoring incessantly. The sound drowned out the ringing in his ears, and he dozed off for the most peaceful sleep he had in years.