Agent on the Run (Chapter Three, page 1 of 4)

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Chantry fingered the pages of the timeworn folder in his hands that were filled with the images of those who had gone on before. There were so many. From the very beginning of the Agency he'd started this book as a way of remembrance of the legacy of others.

All of the individuals in the pictures listed in this folder were heroes to him. They had all given their lives for the cause of good, perhaps some more nobly than others, but they were all unified in the fact that they were all dead.

Through all the many years he had managed to run this Agency he had somehow managed to stay alive, while so many others hadn't. His continued existence was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that he saw more good done in the world, as a result of his Agency's actions. A curse, because invariably year-to-year he had more pictures to add to the burgeoning folder and more internal sorrow to bear.

He got too close to his agents, and when they were lost he took it personally each and every time. He'd had to weather through that private sorrow of his over 100 times through the years and having had to just add 30 more names to the folder just a year before had been rough.

Chantry brushed at the tears on his face, as they started to fall down and splatter on the pictures that he was leafing through. So few knew of the impact of his Agency on world events for the last 50 some years.

He didn't really care about the lack of notoriety, in fact he'd worked hard to keep it that way, but what did truly bother him was that these brave men and women would never receive the praise and adoration that they so richly deserved. Not in this lifetime anyway.

The atmosphere around him in the cool of the evening suddenly turned electric in its intensity and Chantry knew from experience that he had a special visitor. He closed the folder and pushed it onto the table beside him. He raised his head to meet the gaze of the man in black that stood before him, having arrived as silently as a big cat stalking its prey. Chantry had been expecting this visit for quite some time now.

"Good evening Elon. The passage of time sees you the same, even as I crinkle up more with each day in age."

The man in black didn't respond other than to step forward and gently ringed Chantry's head with his fingertips. For Chantry there was the initial shock of having his thoughts and memories perused through, but this time it went more in-depth and took longer.

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