Home > The Serial Box > Day One Hundred and Thirty-three: Special Agent Khrys Ferro, part 1

Day One Hundred and Thirty-three: Special Agent Khrys Ferro, part 1

“DAMMIT!” Tanner Quan heard bureau Chief Jerrold Mire yell and then something that sounded a lot like his cell phone being flung against the wall. Again.

Carefully, he opened the office door and poked his head in. “Something wrong, Chief?” Tanner was the newest agent to work in the anti-terrorist division of the Department of National Security, and while he wasn’t the youngest, he certainly looked like it. He had graduated in the top of his class, had aced every test to get into the agency, but still looked like he was a freshman in college at best. Jerrold often reminded him that he had asked for someone he could send out on field work, not someone who looked like he should still be in the Boy Scouts. While he tried to be as professional as possible, Tanner loved his job, and the thought that he might one day end up going on a field mission was what got him out of bed in the morning.

The closest he had come so far was posing as a teenager to catch sexual predators. But he knew that persistence was the key, and he suspected that his youthful enthusiasm was wearing the Chief down.

Jerrold glared up at him. “Get in here, kid. Shut the door.” Tanner walked in and unbuttoned his suit jacket before he sat down. He heard a buzzing noise and glanced up. Somehow a fly had gotten into the office and couldn’t find its way out.

“I’m twenty-six, Chief,” Tanner said as he sat down. “Hardly a kid.”

“Two of our agents,” Jerrold said, apparently ignoring the remark, “have been captured by the group they were infiltrating.” He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his chair. Chief Mire had been a fit man in his youth, and one of the Department’s best agents. Then he had been promoted, and he’d never really gotten over it. “Somehow they managed to blow their cover or maybe something about them just didn’t sit right.” He shifted files around on his cluttered desk until he found the one he wanted. “Either way, the Sons of Nazis are holding them and they want a bunch of their guys released from prison before they even think about letting ours go.” He sighed and stared at the ceiling. “The brass are gonna have my balls for this.”

Tanner sat quietly for a moment, staring at the framed hunting print on the Chief’s wall and trying to ignore that fly. The Sons of Nazis were a nasty domestic terrorist group. They had blown up a dozen churches across the South, and were probably responsible for at least two dozen murders. The Department had been hunting them for years, but their insular membership made it hard to get anyone in, and they were tech-savvy enough not to leave an obvious electronic trail to follow. And if these agents had been captured? It would seem that the Department was well and truly out of options.

Or at least, nearly out of options. There was still one chance.

After a moment, he said, “You know. We really ought to call -”

“NO!” Jerrold sat up straight.

“But he’s the best! You know he could -”

“No, no, and NO!” Jerrold stood up and grabbed at his shirt pocket. Smoking had been banned in their offices years ago, but Chief Mire had been there a lot longer than that, and tended to forget when he was stressed. “The last time we sent him on a mission, he blew up a busload of nuns.”

“Yeah, but…” Tanner shrugged. “They were terrorist nuns. I mean, he found their hard disks and everything…”

“And do you think the press got on and said, ‘Don’t worry, everybody – these were terrorist nuns’? Of course not!” He circled the desk and stood right in front of Tanner, drilling his bloodshot eyes into Tanner’s. “All I heard, for months, was how my agent blew up a busload of nuns.” He started at Tanner for a long, uncomfortable moment before turning away. “I’m not calling him!”

“You don’t have to,” a new voice said from the doorway. They both turned around to see a tall man who filled the doorway.

Special Agent Khrys Ferro stood there, leaning against the doorjamb and chewing on a toothpick. He looked casual, in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that did little to hide his lean, athletic frame. He lifted his sunglasses up to his forehead, and bright green eyes flickered between Tanner and Chief Mire. “Sounds like you need my help,” he said in a strong baritone.

Tanner was too awed to speak. He’d heard a lot about Khrys, but had never been in the same room with him, much less spoken to him. The other man seemed to draw his attention like a magnet. The sheer force of his personality was too much to resist.

Chief Mire, on the other hand, was unmoved. “Not a chance, Ferro,” he yelled. “You’re too risky for this mission!”

Khrys crossed to the desk and grabbed an open file before Mire could stop him. He flipped through it, scanning the pages of reports and photographs. He glanced over at Tanner. “Nazis, eh?”

Tanner swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“All right, then,” Khrys said. “Here’s what I’m gonna do.” He dropped the file back on the desk. “I’m gonna solve your little Nazi problem for you and bring back your agents.” Chief Mire started to build up a good yell again, but Khrys cut him off. “And I’m bringing him with me.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, right at Tanner.

“Me?” Tanner squeaked.

“Him?” Mire yelled. “You out of your mind? You’re bringing a babyfaced Asian kid to go fight Nazis?” Chief Mire dropped into his chair. “Not a chance, Ferro! You’ll both get killed!”

Khrys’ hand whipped out and grabbed a paperclip from the Chief’s desk. In a flash, he unfolded it and threw it against the wall. Then he put his sunglasses down and said to Tanner, “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.” He grinned, flashing impossibly white teeth, and left the office.

Tanner and Chief Mire looked at each other for a moment, and then at the wall. There, writhing on the thin wire that impaled it on the fake wood paneling, was the fly.

Tanner and the Chief exchanged glances again, and then Tanner hurried out of the office.

TO BE CONTINUED!

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