Agent Gray, Red with Love

Devineaux Doesn't Do Dumb Stuff, Duh.

  "You!" A pale man, with unkempt hair, 12:00 shadow, and looking like the star of a conspiracy documentary screamed when he saw Graham.

  "Uh," Graham said, not sure what to do. He did jazz hands, put on his best smile, and said in confusion, "Me?"

    "Don't play dumb with me, boy," the man growled in an accusing way.

  "Uh, are you Agent Devineaux?" Graham asked, hoping he wasn't.

  The man narrowed his eyes, "Yes, that I am."

  The two stared at each other. Graham shifted nervously, Devineaux eyed him as if he were a murder suspect. You could cut the tension with a knife, though Graham had no idea why it was there.

  Graham took a deep breath, "Sorry, mate. Do I know you? Or, do you know me?"

  The agent looked outraged, "You play me as a fool?"

  Graham got worried, "No! No, I don't mean it like that. It's just, if I've met you in the past year... I wouldn't remember."

  Devineaux raised an eyebrow, "Go on."

  "What he means," said a tall woman coming out of the private jet that was meant to take them to Seattle, "is he has severe amnesia. He can't remember anything of the past year, Devineaux."

  The lady looked like a hawk personified. She had white blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, and she walked with intense authority. Graham smiled hello, which was met with a cold stare.

  "Er... You must be agent Zari?"

  "Indeed."

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you."

  Zari knit her eyebrows, "Save the pleasantries  for the plane. Let's go." She turned her head, and walked right back up the plane stair case.

  Looking after her, Graham asked, "Why'd she even bother coming out of the plane?"

  Devineaux looked at him, "What?"

  Graham shrugged, "She just walked down 50 steps to talk at us, and then just went up again after 5 sentences. It seems like a waste of time, especially sense apparently she doesn't want to talk.  And even more, she finished our conversation. She shouldn't have been able to hear us from the plane entrance. Do we have like..." Graham looked at his new ACME suit, where he found a button slightly less shiny than the rest. "Oh, microphone."

  Of course she knew what they were talking about. She could likely hear them form some transmission device in the plane.

  Devineaux stared at him, then shook his head in astonishment. How did this new boy, with no prior experience already know so much? He was told the boy didn't even finish a day of training before being activated. 

Devineaux started to walk up the plane in a huff. 

  "Wait!" Graham called.

  "Eh?" Devineaux grunted, looking at the Australian.

  "Could you.... tell me where you know me from? I... I want to know more about the year I lost."

  Devineaux titled his head, "get in the plane."

  Graham followed orders. 

  The plane had silver grey walls, and black curtains over the windows, so that agents could control the amount of sun they got. Wooden table were bolted to the floor inside mini office cubicles with  glass walls, and a glass sound proof slide door separating room from room. The chairs were black leather. The floor was grey metal, but with a turquoise ACME rug, giving some color to the place. The lights were a turquoise green, so that they gave an ominous glow to the plane's features and inhabitants. At the front, an "ACME" symboled was painted on two doors, separating the pilot area from the rest of the plane. Graham decided not to ask who was flying. He walked around more, and saw two bedrooms labeled "Male" and "Female" Heath holding a rack of cots for sleeping, a small bathroom and shower, and a mini kitchen complex, complete with chips, fruit, vegetables, a tea pot, a small fridge, microwave, and—