By A L Wright, Jun 26 2016 10:10PM
My name is Latesse Colt. For now. I've been known by several different aliases over the last eleven years. But this one has been with me the longest. When a name starts to feel familiar, that's usually when my alias and location changes. I've been waiting anxiously for that call to come down from the top. But it hasn't happened yet.
I am a special agent with the CIA. My current mission was just finished up in Jamaica, and I was awaiting my departure instructions. It seemed odd to send a white girl to Jamaica on a secret mission, as I really didn't fit in with the locals. But the arms supplier we just took down had a thing for white chicks. My partner in this mission was Gannon Brooks, and since he had lived here his whole life he knew his way around. I was kind of sad to leave him behind, but only because he was genuinely disinterested in me. And I was comfortable with that.
Uncomfortable was me playing ditzy dumb girl, aroused by a rich man with lots of jewelry and pools and cars. All I wanted was his guns. The cold steel ones. His other “gun” would stay locked up with him in prison now. Thank goodness. I'm sure some girl somewhere would be unhappy about that. But they would probably just miss his money since he had tended to be quite loose with it. And that had made him easy to track down.
Having Gannon as a temporary partner had been a nice change for me. I hoped when I did get moved somewhere new, I would finally get a new permanent partner that wouldn't be a total pig. Okay my current partner Isaiah isn’t totally a bad guy, he just doesn't get it. I'm not into him! But he keeps trying anyway, and I keep ignoring most of his attempts. On the times he tries harder, I threaten his manhood and that seems to push the message across. That kind of behavior just makes me look like a cold blooded spy and assassin, which is a great cover on the outside. But it really wears a girl down.
I don’t hate him too much. He is the best backup I have ever had, and really I can see what his interest is in me. At five feet and nine inches I am usually intimidating to most men, but not to a top rated spy like Isaiah Turelli. I think it was the first thing about me he noticed, and he seems to look even harder when I'm sporting four inch heels. I'm not small by any means. I'm pushing one hundred seventy-five pounds and most of it is hard toned muscle. I keep my nails and my jet black hair short, and I don't really wear a lot of makeup. Unless the mission calls for it. Like todays did. And I couldn't wait to scrub it off.
My specialty is hand to hand combat, but I prefer to take out the bad guys from a distance.
Easy in, easy out. That's how I roll. But sometimes you have to play dirty, and get in real close and personal. I am damned good at that, too. Not that I always like it, but it’s all a part of my job.
At Gannon's throat clearing, I came out of my internal thoughts just in time to see beach blond
Isaiah roll up in front of the cafe where we were seated in a bright red Jeep, tropical flower shirt unbuttoned and smoking a cigar. I didn't even know he was on the island. Figures he would be my “exit plan”.
Sighing, I stood up and grabbed my sunglasses and wallet.
“'Twas a pleasure working wit’ ya, Tess girl. Any more bad guys come across our radar I let you know,” Gannon said in his heavy Jamaican accent. He patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the cafe, tossing a peace sign Isaiah's way. Why couldn't all men be more like Gannon and just be happy with a pat on the shoulder?
I exited the cafe after leaving a few bucks on the table. Putting on my oversized sunglasses I braced myself as I headed towards the Jeep. I was still in my ruby red cocktail dress from the mission, and I tuned out the whistles that came my way as I walked towards Isaiah. I couldn't wait to put on some pants.
Sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, Isaiah blatantly looked me up and down. “Oooh Tess, that's a good color on you. And good job taking down Frankie the Flirt. Though in that dress you'd have any guy on his knees.”
“Just shut up and get me out of here. I really want to change.”
“Good thing I picked up your bags for you. We are heading straight for the strip. You can change on the plane. Just let me know if you need help.” Isaiah winked at me as I strapped on my seat belt, then chuckled like it was actually funny.
“Ugh.” Was all I could manage to say as he sped off down the street. It was going to be a long trip back to home base.