Agent Ordinary

P. Morra

Culebra Island, Puerto Rico

Thomas stood still as he waited for the music to shuffle to the next song. An upbeat diddy began with the blare of the trumpet that launched the movement into a swinging beat. Perfect for horizontal dancing.

Thomas' shoulders relaxed. Enclosed in the entryway, he peered around the textured walls. Something thudded. Thomas darted across the walkway and then backed into the kitchen.

That is, until his bum bumped against a soft cabinet.

Wait. A soft cabinet? A jasmine scent tickled his nose, and he straightened.

"Why, hello, Thomas," came a voice. "I see you found the brochure and the breadcrumbs. I hoped you would before anyone else did."

He spun, weapon held between two palms. The barrel pointed directly at her forehead. She didn't even flinch.

Good god. Every lovely Victorian curve was highlighted by her corset dress. He lowered his gun. "You?"

"Oh, yes, me." She pressed her bright red lips together like she was trying not to laugh.

Thomas frowned. "So it wasn't the whiskey and the Armani suit?"

"Oh, they helped," she quipped, then put her hands on her hips. "I had to know if we could trust you."

Thomas tucked the gun back in its holster. "Do you trust me?"

She licked her lips. "You're still on probation."

Thomas heard shuffling from the adjacent hallway and reached for his Glock.

"Pippa?" An elderly voice creaked.

"In the kitchen, Papa," she called.

Thomas repeated, "Pippa Morra?"

"That's me."

He asked, "And Pablo Morra?"

"He's my father." She crossed her arms. "Somebody's been trying to kill him. We don't know who. That's why I begged them to pull an agent out of retirement."

Thomas frowned. He processed this information as Pablo Morra appeared at the edge of the kitchen, pushing a walker in front of him. He said, "Pippa?"

She eased him into a dining room seat. Pablo asked, "Who's that? Another asshole out to kill me?"

"No, Papa," Pippa raised her voice. "Thomas is here to rescue us."

Thomas leaned against the cabinets. "But why would anybody want to kill a peacekeeper?"

Pippa set a water bottle on the table and dropped a straw into it. "Papa became a peacekeeper only after he created a water-borne poison. His employer tested it on a small tribe in Dogon Tribe in Africa. No one survived the test group." After Pablo's drink, she wiped a spill from his chin. "Someone wants to steal that work."

She turned to Thomas. "They want to kill us and take the formula. Will you help us?"

Thomas took a breath and blew it out slowly. "Sounds great." He tucked his earpiece back into his ear. "Shut up, Sunshine, and listen..."