The Obvious Spy

Sc

In order to support my writing addiction, I have to work as an airline ground staff. The airport provides the chance for insight into a myriad of people. So I take it as research, and not monotonously stamping tickets while the world goes places. I don’t really mind my job.

On this particular night, however, the airport lounge had sparse company. I turned to my co-worker, Gummy. That is not her actual name but she is seldom without a gum. One imagines her to have been born with a chewing gum in her toothless chamber. The gum and Gummy have become symbiotic. In fact, the company tried to separate them, with results of threatening to sue from Gummy. I guess she can claim a common law relationship with the gum. Maybe she was a messenger and used the gum chewing to convey some sort of secret code.

Look at me! so desperate for excitement and making up stories about Gummy. I resumed my stamping of tickets. I was thinking about writing an odyssey on Gummy and how she ran a multimillion dollar empire with every airport employee in her pay except me. Gummy always tried to please me, she even offered me gum. Said it’s like a fidget spinner for the mouth.

It is these kind of stories about a woman who can’t stop chewing gum that has led to my agent blocking my phone number. For a writer, I have the dullest life imaginable.

My last two stories were about adventures with missing vegetables and her co-worker who steals collects airline tags.

Maybe I can kidnap my agent and publisher, lock them up in my basement, that would make for an exciting story.

While these stupid thoughts were swirling in my head, I spotted amidst the line of harried, married travellers, an interesting, potential muse. He was well above six feet tall, and in the middle of winter was wearing black shades, a black turtleneck, black pants, etc. He carried a guitar case with him, and a small carry-on. He was looking around and and then texting rapidly. But it was his watch that clinched the matter for me. It was chunky and there was a lever jutting out which he hastily pushed inside. Like it hid poisoned darts. So, we had a spy amongst us.

I texted this to Gummy since he was going towards her side for ticketing. He kept looking at me while Gummy was examining his passport. She talked a while with him and promptly closed the counter to come for a coze.

“How did you know?” She asked chewing her gum at a furious pace.

“The watch.” I said modestly.

“His name is John Jones, an alias obviously, and he had a british accent, MI5 you think?” she took a loud slurp of the gum.

This just got better.

“His passport was brand new, just stamped once, he must have dozens of them. He also had a tattoo of a weird pentagram shape on the back of his hand.” she continued, expertly maneuvering the gum to one side.

“Spooky.” I said.

“Tannie is almost here for her shift, do you want to follow him?” Gummy read my mind.

Tannie, another co-worker came five minutes later. Tannie might be interesting if she ever spoke more than a single syllable. Her conversation was like a like a telegram of yesteryears as if every word cost a cent.

“Talking?” she asked succinctly.

“Spy” I replied in the same manner.

She has big soulful eyes, which got bigger and for the first time in our co-working relationship, she uttered a sentence,

“You.keep.eye.on.him, I’ll.take.shift.”

During those five minutes “John Jones” had moved to the main fountain and was looking into his phone. He kept on glancing at his guitar case as if someone was out to get it, he also spared a glance to me. Man these spies are shrewd.

What could be in the guitar case? It was definitely not a guitar.

“He looks familiar, I bet he uses disguises that’s why I feel I know him.” Gummy was chewing a gum and popcorn on opposite sides of her mouth. Which seemed totally appropriate.

Another man carrying a guitar case came towards him casually. He looked so suspicious, it felt like a farce. He had on a hoodie, shades and kept on looking over his shoulder. He must have got terrible grades in spy school.

He left the guitar case with the other guy and rushed away when a group of people tried to go near him. The other guy had opened a bottle of pills and was having some.

“Drugs.” whispered Gummy knowingly.

“But what could be in the guitar case?” I asked.

It was Tannie who answered. She had snuck up behind us and telegramed

“Government secrets. Phone numbers.Account numbers. Top officials have been leaked.”

“Why would they carry it in a guitar case. It just seems so obvious?” I asked.

But I knew when I looked at the idiot in the hoodie and this all in black man, that they were amateurs. I felt kind of sorry for them. Based on my extensive research for crime novels and tainted internet history the best way would have been for those two to have come in homemade jumpers to look like tourists and not suave and sexy spies. They should make some guy unconscious by a special kung fu move to create a diversion while the other guy shoots lasers to temporarily disable cameras and then they exchange the secrets.

Gummy and I discussed this and thought they’d be caught pretty soon.

The early morning rush started and I forgot about the man in the turtleneck.

In the afternoon, he was back. He was talking to a seedy looking guy and nodding towards me. I was scared, they knew I was on to them. I ducked under my desk and went to the employees lounge.

From my hiding spot I could see them asking for me. Oh this is bad. I’ll have to change my name and everything.

After an hour of hiding and calling my mom to say I love her, I slipped out. Just my luck, I bumped right into the remedial spy.

He gulped and smiled sheepishly.

“How are you?” he said

Holy shit, this guy is polite to people he’s about to wack.

He took another gulp.

“Would you like to have coffee with me?”

It isn’t everyday a criminal/spy asks you out for a date/murder. Maybe he meant to make it look natural.

“I have to get home, my mom is sick.” I said desperately.

“Let me drive you.”

Holy shit, he’ll get my mom too. I must be brave. A voice whispered,

“Just go, you might get lucky.” I turned to see the seedy looking man grinning at me.

Was he trying to hint that I could live. Maybe I could take him by throwing coffee on his face and making a run for it.

It was when we were seated that I thought I’d let him know I’m not stupid. A golden rule for all dates, whatever your chances of being murdered are.

“I know who you are.” I said in my most impressive voice.

He looked embarrassed.

It was lucky that a fan of his interrupted us and demanded an autograph from his favourite bass guitarist.

The date went well when I realized that my mystery man was part of a famous band called Pentagram and kept picks in his watch.

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And everyone lived happily ever after. Except for Gummy, as it turned out the rhythms of her chewing her gum were not as innocent as her face made us believe they were.

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I'd like to nominate @zipporah and @aksounder to make a post for comedy open mic round 23