Jetfuel, Chapter 6 – A Sunday Story

Posted bySuzette BenjaminPosted inPoetry
Image credit: Craig Whitehead | Unsplash

Chapter 6

There’s an open secret that no one talks about at Clandestine branch Section “O,” Neroot’s employer. If a field agent calls in for “The Footman,” he or she is “in the wind.”

“The Footman” is the code name for Section”O’s” team of ninja-skilled foot soldiers, young men, and women of great acrobatic ability (called in the modern-day vernacular, Parkour skills). Expert long-range shooters and fleet of foot with deep street smarts and knowledge. They operate on three continents supporting Section “O’s” vast network of field agents working to keep public officials out of the crosshairs and sackcloth of elite assassins’ rifles.

“The Footman” is activated when a field agent requires assistance to stay alive long enough (as macabre as that sounds) to complete a mission.

Despite its obvious importance to Section “O,” The Footman team sadly is often on the receiving end of many tongue-in-cheek jests from their elite and higher-ranked field agent colleagues.

Despite the grueling six-year training they each must endure to qualify as a member of The Footman, the team is the lowest ranked in Section “O’s” corporate pecking order. For that and for the nature of the tasks they must sometimes officially perform to maintain a fellow field agent’s true identity even after death, The Footman team endure such nicknames as “undertakers” and “gravediggers.”

Therefore…enter “The Footman.”

The young man, one of The Footman, in his late twenties (Bobby Smith, code name Angel One), the Canadian-born son of U.K. parents, sat comfortably drinking fresh coffee from Tim Hortons in a well-heated security hut near the municipal buildings of downtown Toronto’s City Hall.

He was on the late shift at his side job as a security “consultant” hired to “keep an eye on things” (according to his very vague written job description.)

The incoming text on his cellphone’s sudden vibration caused Bobby to leap to his feet:…The text read–

“Assignment – Jetfuel, status Omega, move, move, move!”

In the next moment, his cell phone buzzed again. His cellphone was programmed to override the “silent mode” that Bobby had set manually, whenever messages came in from Section “O.”

Following the phone’s buzz, a photo of Jetfuel appeared on screen, and then the image quickly dissolved.

At the same time, the classified app on his phone popped opened a map of Toronto’s downtown core pinpointing the moving little red arrow of Neroot’s cellphone’s homing beacon. A beacon etched into her cell phone’s memory card with its own nanotech battery in case the phone’s main battery was dead or had been removed.

The young man leaped out the half door of his well-lit security hut. He darted across the above-ground parking lot of the Municipal buildings and jumped effortlessly, clearing the parking structure’s gates.

He crawled into a hiding place – one of the grates from Municipal Building’s boiler room’s fresh air intake vents and retrieved his “equipment” bag.

Reaching into the bag, a hockey bag with the maple leaf logo taped over with explosive duct tape and a remote trigger (in case he needed to destroy the bag’s contents), he swiftly removed his night goggles.

He strapped on his night goggles (which looked like ordinary sunglasses with a rubber strap). The sunglasses/goggles included wireless links with a heads-up display of his phone, voice-activated features, and an earpiece.

He hoisted the large hockey equipment bag over his shoulder placing his hands one at a time in each handle strap of the massive bag’s double handles.

Then Bobby took off, running, jumping over obstacles gracefully.

While keeping his balance, he effortlessly scaled walls…

His body swerved sideways and up, his torso twisting almost at the same time as he climbed walls unaided by ropes and leaped from rooftops and fire escapes racing towards Neroot’s escaping figure..his instinctive skilled movements guided by the red arrow (Neroot)’s movements on the heads-up display on his cellphone visible on his night goggles/sunglasses.

Meanwhile, several blocks away…

Neroot sped down Queen Street as evening’s gloam fully gripped the cold downtown streets. Her Dolche and Gabanna long-sleeved lace midi dress, now in tatters sifted more of winter’s windchill factor onto her exposed skin mercilessly.

Upscale clothing stores long since closed for the day, replete with showcase windows sported chichi mannequins in fashionista coats, silently taunted Neroot as she fled past them, shivering, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Then…suddenly!

Neroot slammed into the arms of a young man who deliberately bumped into her…out of seemingly nowhere!

It took all her balance to remain on her feet. Her body shivering, swayed sideways as Neroot collected herself from the young man (Bobby)’s well-timed jolt.

“Jetfuel, I presume? Angel One at your service, Commander.”

While he spoke, Bobby (Angel One) wriggled his arms out from the large hockey bag on his back and pulled out a winter coat.

It’s ill-fit, did not matter. Neroot was grateful for the double-breasted wool coat’s warmth as the two now crouched beneath the showcase window of Queen Street’s bizarrely name clothiers Hoax Couture.

…But Neroot suddenly felt in her gut that something was not quite right… no reason specifically, but she sensed…danger from Bobby or was it from…

The way he said “Commander” with an almost imperceptible disdain for the nobility and/or for authority masked by years of espionage training in hiding one’s true feelings

OR…

Was it from the very faint scent of Old Spice cologne she may have imagined, or perhaps did linger, on the double-breasted coat Bobby (Angel One) had given her a few moments earlier…?

Imperceptively, Neroot wiggled her chest shifting her Glock42 from her bra cup’s sleeve…

Thanks to the large double-breasted coat Bobby had just given her, Neroot had room to shimmy the Glock42 from her bra via slight shoulder joint movements.

She allowed the weapon to slip down the inside of the double-breasted coat’s right sleeve and into her right hand. And…

…in the time that it took Bobby (Angel One) to remove the safety from his 9mm Glock19, which was suddenly somehow in his right hand…

…Neroot tucked and rolled away from the showcase window where they both once sat and launched herself airborne…and away from Bobby who was now poised to fire.

…and then, Neroot still airborne, flipped her body 180 degrees while falling backward (like a high diver’s Reverse Gainer), she released her Glock42’s safety, and…

… she fired!

***To be continued Next Sunday***

_____

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Published by Suzette Benjamin

Positive thinker, inspirational, writer, faith

70 thoughts on “Jetfuel, Chapter 6 – A Sunday Story”

    1. I’m glad you enjoyed the latest volley in the explosive “quietude” of the heroine’s narrow escapes and near misses. Yes, what next…more to come.
      Thank you for your faithful support, my friend.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. ✍The Footman team sadly is often on the receiving end of many tongue-in-cheek jests from their elite and higher-ranked field agent colleagues.✍

    Oh such snobbery
    How dare they
    Reminds me of the ground activists vs the upper echelons

    Liked by 1 person

  8. ✍The young man, one of The Footman, in his late twenties (Bobby Smith, code name Angel One), the Canadian-born son of U.K. parents, sat comfortably drinking fresh coffee from Tim Hortons in a well-heated security hut near the municipal buildings of downtown Toronto’s City Hall.✍

    Aha, a Bobby comes into the picture and play of the story
    Drinking coffee from Timmies
    Nice

    Liked by 1 person

  10. ✍ A beacon etched into her cell phone’s memory card with its own nanotech battery in case the phone’s main battery was dead or had been removed.✍

    Wow 👌
    Amazing how these sophisticated communication tools are powered

    Liked by 1 person

  11. ✍The young man leaped out the half door of his well-lit security hut. He darted across the above-ground parking lot of the Municipal buildings and jumped effortlessly, clearing the parking structure’s gates.✍

    Wow the use of muscle to transport him
    Flying free, defying gravity

    Liked by 1 person

  12. ✍The sunglasses/goggles included wireless links with a heads-up display of his phone, voice-activated features, and an earpiece.✍

    Ohhohoho
    Hands free technology
    Simply amazing

    Liked by 1 person

  13. ✍His body swerved sideways and up, his torso twisting almost at the same time as he climbed walls unaided by ropes and leaped from rooftops and fire escapes racing towards Neroot’s escaping figure..his instinctive skilled movements guided by the red arrow (Neroot)’s movements on the heads-up display on his cellphone visible on his night goggles/sunglasses.✍

    Wow, talent, physical training and mental strength working those rooftops like a trapeze artist.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. ✍ill-fit, did not matter. Neroot was grateful for the double-breasted wool jacket’s warmth as the two now crouched beneath the showcase window of Queen Street’s bizarrely name clothiers Hoax Couture.✍

    lol, what a sight, crouching tigers ready to offload their furs to the best dressmakers in town !!!

    Anyway I’d love one of this woolen jackets to keep me warm through the cold of the night.
    We accept her gratitude

    Liked by 1 person

  15. ✍way he said “Commander” with an almost imperceptible disdain for the nobility and/or for authority masked by years of espionage training in hiding one’s true feelings✍

    The psychology of the underworld and secret service coming to the fore

    Liked by 1 person

  16. ✍Was it from the very faint scent of Old Spice cologne she may have imagined, or perhaps did linger, on the double-breasted coat Bobby (Angel One) had given her a few moments earlier…?✍

    Oh dear !!!

    Liked by 1 person

  17. ✍Neroot tucked and rolled away from the showcase window where they both once sat and launched herself airborne…and away from Bobby who was now poised to fire.

    …and then, Neroot still airborne, flip her body 180 degrees while falling backward (like a high diver’s Reverse Gainer), she released her Glock42’s safety, and…

    … she fired!✍

    Thrilling the transition from crouching tigers to firing foes
    Brilliantly told

    A magnificent elliptical course
    👏 👏 👏 Bravo 👏 🙌 👌

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I like your astute assessment “from crouching tigers to firing foes..” perfect!
      Glad you enjoyed the “elliptical course” the warm-up, the ramp up, and the flourish at the end…with more calisthenics to come!

      Thank you for your mirificent discernment and engaging comments. It is a pleasure to read your insights always.
      Blessings to you on this day: Renewal Sunday, peace and grace be with you.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you poet
        Looking forward to read the next chapter
        I delight.
        My great pleasure reading your gymnastics with words.
        Blessed Renewal Sunday to you.
        Peace and grace I embrace.

        Liked by 1 person

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  21. Suzette, stunning action. Lucky our heroine is so self sufficient because it looks as though she’s going it alone. Love the surprise warm coat and the olfactory message it brings that leads her to defend herself against the footman!

    Liked by 1 person

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