The rain splattered against my brolly and the sound of crashing waves on rocks nearly drowned out the sound of my mobile phone.
I pulled it from my pocket and stared at the screen.
"The Agency" flashed on the screen. The theme tune from Mission Impossible could now be heard clearly against the seascape. This is my ring tone especially selected for when they ring me. Some would find it funny. Me.....my heart jumps.
If I ignored it I might miss out on a bit of nice little pay day. If I slide the screen to answer it I knew there could be kitchen pain coming my way in order to claim my prize !
I slid my finger slowly across the screen.
"Hi !"
" Agent K I have a mission for you. Do you have the balls to take out such a task." DD my agency contact was as cold and business like as ever. In her eyes emotions were for the weak.
I paused and took a deep breath. Like your life passing before you when you die, my whole agency career passed before mine........Yes or No ?
"Yes"
"That is good Agent K. I will send you the details. Do not speak to anyone about your mission...and Agent K remember......we are watching you..."
I looked around. The beach was empty. My phone went dead. The rain now splatted against my face as I looked skyward as I wondered if they were watching me via some satellite flying above me.
My transfixed wet skyward gaze was interrupted by the sound of a duck quacking. I looked at my feet for Donald but remembered it was my message tone on my now wet phone.
"Proceed to airstrip where you will be flown to your target."
Thats all I got. No idea what the hit was to be.I did know I didnt like flying.
Most Culinary Secret Agents either walk in the shadows of life or drive an Aston Martin. Me I have a specially adapted Renault Megane Scenic which was supplied to me by the 'Assassination De La Patisserie de Francais' That's the baking arm of the French Secret Service. They also handle Transport as well.
I ended up with this Devil's dumpling of a car mainly due to many years ago when we joined the EEC to help encourage and promote trade between European Countries including Secret Services we signed a contract where we would supply the French with 'Yorkie Bombs' ( a much sort after weapon in its time although whenever one was used the finger of blame was clearly pointed at us even if we hadn't carried out the hit !) and they would supply us with cars. Why I couldn't have a Ferrari which fired rockets while under water I will never know.
I remember the man in the Berry smelling of Garlic when he dropped the car off.
" You will love it, mon aime ! its like a rocket on wheels." he said as he kissed both my cheeks.
A Rocket it is but only if you need to retreat in a hurry. When trouble strikes it has a habit of sometimes slapping itself into reverse and with great speed moving backwards. Useful on occasions but as my pals in the S.B.S (Special Baking Squadron) say sometimes attack is the best form of defence ! Still its got a good CD player in it.
I slipped onto the motorway and headed south on the A1 to our Secret Transport and Special Gadget depot. I had REM blasting out of the car stereo which distracted me. I didn't notice the 3 lights behind me until it was too late. Had news of my mission leaked and was one of the many Culinary enemies I had made over my career trying to get me. After all you can never really kill a true Villain. Yes you can send them floating into outta space or blow up there Testicles while making your escape with a beautiful woman in tow but Villains are hard people to put down. Luckily that goes for Secret agents too !
The lights got bigger.
I put my finger over the switch that would arm the cars 'optional extras' the lights streaked past me. I was doing 80mph the Ice Cream truck that past me must have been doing 100 mph as the tinny sound of 'Oranges and lemons' could be heard even above REM...' Its the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine....!'
My Brain didn't know whether to laugh or become suspicious. After all an Ice-cream truck had just passed me doing a ton. I didn't have time to digest the thought as a huge explosion of Chocolate and fudge ice-cream exploded onto my windscreen.
I had thought it might have been a Seagull emptying his bowels after he had been for a Chicken Bhunna but that would have been some bottom deposit and me being a bit silly !
I tried to deploy the windscreen wipers but they just got caught up in the chocolate fudgey goeyness and were in ineffective.
Then what sounded liked hail stones hitting the windscreen could be heard. This wasn't ice...shit it was multicoloured hundred and thousands....whoever it was wanted to turn me as their 99 cone.....
The initial panic cleared my head and I switched the missiles on. Out of my front head lights a Exocet missile poked its head out like a Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtles coming out of its shell about to leap into action !
"Deploy I shouted"
"Yes Commander...but what at...?" Typical Frenchie always questions !
"The Ice-cream van ahead...." I shouted.
"Pah you English cannot make Ice-cream...it is only us French who make the best Creme-glacee...and to sell it from a van...ooh la la...peasants !" Everyone loves computer voice activated control boxes.
"Look Napoleon we can have this culinary conversation later...but unless you blow the fucking ice-cream van up that's attacking us there will be no later...." I tried to be calm but this Car had tried my patience for 5 years now.
"OK Commander keep your unfashionable shirt on...."
Boom missile gone. I slowed the car down to avoid getting caught in the blast back. Lucky it was 1.00 am in the morning and no-one around otherwise the sound of the explosion would surely have attracted attention. I could cope with trying to explain things to the local Police while the 'Agency' sorted things out but having to listen to Napoleon moan on at me for being rude, and something about supposing to be a spy and therefore 'Invisible' would have just not been worth it.
The Ice-cream Van flew 10 feet into the air in a ball of flames and smashed down into the lay-by alongside the motorway.
"Very neatly done Napoleon." I offered the hand of friendship.
"Conneries" he replied and switched himself off just as he managed to auto pilot the car into the lay-by.
I took a breath and got out of the car my trusty Sawn off shot gun by my side. Not very stylish but this baby could fire a mean Marshmallow nail bullet at you rendering you dead with a sweet but soft touch !
I walked over to the burning wreckage just as the flames died down. I looked into the drivers seat and sitting there burning away smelling of Raspberry Coulis was my would be assassin.
"Who are you ?" I shouted.
"I think he is dead you stupid Roast beef !" Napolean was out of his huff !
"Will you leave me alone...and shut it.." I whined back at hm.
"Oooooo touchy....."
Something dropped from the burning Ice-cream man's hand. I slowly bent down and picked it up.
"What the f...."
Was it true my biggest meanest enemy was back ? Surely not.
"I killed you. You were there and so was I" I whispered.
"What is it Commander ?" Napoleon demanded to know.
The Ice-cream man was a hired hand. Sent to send me a message. Not a very good message as he sat slowly melting in syrupy goo but the half eaten Cheese scone that had fallen from his hand was very much the calling card of my evilest Foe......Dr Dough !
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