Chapter one
In a secret location, somewhere under the Mediterranean, MI6 were going to have a secret meeting. They were to be seated around a long black table which filled most of the room. There were ten chairs on each side, and one big black one with distinctive carvings at the head of the table. Outside the door waited twenty of MI6’S best agents, each holding a security card and a small weapon of some kind. They were each, to be assigned a special mission. At the front of the line was Agent Richard Wilson, (who was known to his friends as Ricky) who was young and fast. He was in his black spy uniform, and although the suit fitted him well, he was uncomfortable. On the last of his spy missions some strange things had happened. At the end of each mission, he had been left a note from a mysterious person called Agent Vi. He had asked all of the agents he knew about who Agent Vi was and none had known, so he had planned to ask his boss in the meeting. However his boss had gone missing, since Ricky’s last mission and Ricky was suspicious. Could this strange character, ‘Agent Vi’, have anything to do with his boss’s disappearance? All of a sudden he felt a tap on his back. He turned around, and saw a rather tall man with a pair of dark sunglasses on.
“Excuse me, but I would like to get through to this meeting!” he grumbled in a high droning voice, “Could you please let me through!” He pushed past Ricky and turned the door knob. It was locked.
“The meeting starts in a couple of minutes, actually,” Ricky explained politely, then pushed past him and stood at the front of the queue again. The man looked taken aback and looked at the back of Agent Ricky’s head menacingly.
“Excuse me, I am the leader of MI6!” the man snapped impatiently. Ricky turned round to look at him, but before his eyes could settle, the man thrust his knuckles in his face. Ricky fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, but his eyes were still wide open. The man looked back at the other agents. Their faces were filled with astonishment and were all looking at him. He looked back at them then shouted, “I will never be defeated!” Suddenly, the lights went off. There were a couple of screams and then some gun shots.
Then the lights went back on. The tall man had gone and three of the MI6 agents were lying dead on the ground. Ricky looked at the Agents and recognised one of them as Oliver Carter, an Agent he had worked with before. The other two were unfamiliar with Ricky. He pushed himself up from the floor and felt his nose, it was bleeding, but he would live. He looked around desperately, at the other Agents. They all looked as shocked as him. The Agents with guns were lifting the dead off the floor and calling people on their mobiles.
Pretty soon, about twenty security guards came rushing into the room with guns. One of them picked up Oliver Carter, swung him over his shoulder, and reached into his pocket for his phone. He looked back at the other guards and gestured his head towards the remaining spy’s. They all rushed in towards them, two of which picked up the other two dead Agents, and swung them over their shoulders. The guard who came over to Ricky, was big, muscular and beefy. He had a walkie-talkie in one hand, a gun in the other. Ricky told him he was fine, yet the guard seemed determined to help him. Ricky went with the guard to the entrance hall, where the guard gave him a tissue and a drink. Ricky sat down in a chair and relaxed. He was OK.
When he had finished and well relaxed, the guard took him to the meeting room, where all the other spies were already seated. Ricky sat down next to Christopher and Tyger, his friends, who were already deep in an argument. When he sat down in-between them, they immediately stopped arguing and started fussing over him.
“Are you OK?” asked Tyger, “That must have really hurt!”
“Don’t smother him with love and mummy’s kisses!” exclaimed Christopher, “Are you alright mate?” Christopher smiled.
