Agent Gray, Red with Love

The ACME Agents

Graham groaned. He slowly opened his eyes still feeling groggy, and looked at the hard cement floor. He lifted his head and winced, as he seemed to have bumped his head when the gun gas knocked him out.

  Out of desperation, he chuckled to himself, "Haha, tiny gun gas. Imagine!"

  His eyes focused on the room around him. It was pitch black, with one single light bulb hanging from a string on the ceiling. He tried to get up, but found he was had cuffed to a small seat, like situations captured spies in Cold War movies found themselves in. But Graham wasn't a Cold War spy, so why was he here?

  "Oh no. No no no no no no no," he said trying to break free from the chair. But it was no use. He called out for help as was instructed in situations involving kidnap, but deep down he knew it was no use. Who would hear him? There wasn't even any bugs in this place.

  He heard the creak of a door opening behind him. He whipped his head around as best he could. It wasn't the suit squad, but it was still a woman in a suit wearing the cool shades.

 "Hey! Get me out of here," he demanded, struggling some more.

  "I know how this looks, but would you just listen?" the petite woman said in a calm, collected voice. She had black hair trimmed into a pixie cut. Under her glasses, she had large, almost black brown  eyes, as well as a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks. 

  "This looks bad," she said walking in front of Graham, "but I assure you there is a reasonable explanation," she said walking in front of him.

  "You literally kidnapped me, that is a crime," Graham grumbled, yanking at his hand cuffs some more.

  The lady winced, but then took out a shiny pen, clicked the top, and dropped it to the floor.

  "Well that was unnecessary," Graham mumbled, looking  at the unfortunate pen, and wondering if that was some stupid way to mock him. Even the dumb writing implement was more free than him right now.

  Then it stood straight up, which considering gravity, Newton's laws of motion, and the fact that there was no breeze in the room to hold it in place, much less move it at all, should not have been possible. But there it was, 180 degrees in the air.

  "Woah," was all he managed to say.

  Then a blinding blue light shot straight out of the pen. He blinked, trying to adjust to this new radiant laser beam. 

  "I think I'm blinded," he groaned.

  A new woman's voice, a lower one, chuckled. "You'll be fine. Agent Argent, is this the man we're looking for?"

  Graham's eyes finally adjusted, and even widened at the sight. A tall woman with a shaved head, and professionally dressed, was crossing her arms in front of him. She stood inside a hologram— or at least that's what Graham thought that she was. But holograms didn't exist.... did they?

  "Yes," who Graham assumed was Agent Argent said to the hologram, "It is."

  "Who are you people?" Graham asked, almost more intrigued than terrified. Almost.

   The hologram lady turned to him, "You can call me Chief, and you must be Graham."

  Graham was taken aback, how did they know his name? He wasn't in uniform when the suit squad had gas gunned him. 

  "Okay, 'Chief.' Why am I here?" He asked cautiously.

  "So quick with it," she mused, "You're here, Graham, because of your connection with the elusive Carmen San Diego."