______________________________________________________
Has everyone forgotten that I am Covert
Ops?
Does anyone know that the damn thing is my raison d’etre, my
specialty, my greatest strength?
Just when I thought I would never get
another covert ops job ever again, I find myself in New York with Chuckles,
Psych Out and Dial Tone on some crazy mission to bug the COBRA communications
system.
Ingenious…but still crazy.
The long and the short of it is
that Chuckles manipulated a yuppie terrorist group called the Menshevikistas,
and somehow got them to unknowingly do our dirty work. The radicals were looking
to oust COBRA from Sierra Gordo, and after breaking into the embassy and
planting explosives on the major structural pillars in the basement, were
threatening to bring down the building unless COBRA gave in to their
demands.
As the situation escalated and the building was evacuated, we
went to work. Tunnel Rat cut off the power from sewer system below while Dial
Tone, Chuckles and I snuck into the building from above using…get this…power
hang- gliders.
Needless to say…not thrilled about those things!
My
part in the mission?
Impersonate the Baroness for about two
minutes.
Yup…that’s right.
That’s it, that’s all!
Dial Tone
patched into the their surveillance system and fed a shot of me dressed as the
‘dominatrix’ herself announcing to the revolutionaries that COBRA would never
give into their demands…adding a couple of taunts and insults in for good
measure.
Well…it worked. The…what did I call them?.. ‘ Weak, pampered
children of the effete middle–class’ (god I’m good), set off the ‘explosives’
that were, of course, filled with riot gas. Chuckles had been the one who sold
them the duds! In the ensuing confusion we were able to plant the bug and walk
right out the front door completely unnoticed by the temporarily blinded
enemy.
I was impressed to say the least. This weird guy with his loud
Hawaiian shirts certainly knew his stuff…AND he knew how to have a good time,
dragging us all out onto the town in celebration of our successful
mission.
Unfortunately…I have a feeling I am going to be very VERY hung
over tomorrow morning. My head is still buzzing from the major quantities of
alcohol consumed after I found out that this big man from Arkansas was going to
be leading all undercover and covert operations for the
team.
WHAT?
Grrrrrr…That’s my baby. Or at least it should be. What
the hell is going on here? I am a covert ops specialist. Even though I find
myself in combat missions more often than not, the whole reason I was selected
for the team was because I was good at doing EXACTLY what ‘Hawaii-Five-O’ here
is taking over.
Ok…so he has more experience, has been in the business
longer. I mean, he told me some of the stuff he has been involved in and it is
really very remarkable. But still…isn’t what he is about to take over the whole
basis for my being on the team in the first place?
If I’m not going to be
practicing my specialty, if Hawk doesn’t think enough of me to let me take over
the operation then WHY am I here? To advise him? There are so many Intel
specialists on this team I am hardly unique in that aspect.
So…what does
that make me?
I’ll tell you what it makes me! A glorified Greenshirt,
that’s what it makes me!
Needless to say the evening ended on a sour
note. I like Chuckles but I was just too riled up to even talk to him after I
found out what was going down. I kept my cool, but he must have noticed that I
went over to hang with Dial Tone for the remainder of the night. Phil is a nice
guy despite his terrible taste in clothing, and he certainly couldn’t have
guessed that he would be ousting me out of my dream job when Hawk brought him
on.
Still…I was drunk and therefore more likely to shoot my mouth off…it
was best to avoid any potential confrontation.
Dial Tone did nothing to
help the situation.
Our communication guys are some of the biggest
‘nerds’ I have ever met. Not the type of people I would have been caught dead
with in my oh-so-snobby high school and university days. They were the ones who
used to hang out at the comic shops and the conventions, played Dungeons and
Dragons on Friday nights and you just KNEW that somewhere on their person was a
‘Federation’ symbol.
Admittedly, having gotten to know Jack at work, I
kind of like the guy. He can certainly fight and pulls his weight on the
missions I have been on with him. He is also completely awkward around woman,
and has the strangest sense of humor…usually I can tolerate it pretty
well…
…Tonight, however, was not usual.
It seems I interrupted a
conversation he was having with someone at the bar about Star Trek (what else),
when I sauntered by. I have seen the show a couple of times, and it’s
entertaining…but I certainly didn’t know enough to wax poetic about the rank
structure of the Klingon High Command.
Anyhow…I tried to join in the
conversation and offhandedly told Jack that I had actually kissed Patrick
Stewart one summer in England. I was playing Catherine to his King Harry in a
Stratford Festival production of Shakespeare’s Henry V.
Well…the look on
his face when he heard that, it was like I had suddenly disappeared and in my
place stood some scantily clad Vulcan.
“You KISSED Captain Jean Luc
Picard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“No, I kissed Patrick Stewart. It was a stage
kiss…nothing more tha…”
“Captain Picard kissed YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!”
I
didn’t get a word in edgewise and for the rest of the evening the man kept
watching me with a look of complete awe on his face. It was very
uncomfortable…adding to an already tense evening.
More alcohol was
needed.
So…now I am sitting in my hotel room alone, nursing a hot cup of
coffee and tending to my misery. Chuckles and Dial-Tone are leaving for a
mission in Germany tomorrow and have left me in NY to monitor the bug we had
planted…what am I? A CADET??!!
Harumph!!!!
The only good thing to
come out of all of this is that Jinx and Scarlett will be joining me tomorrow
afternoon. The three of us alone on what amounts to a minor operation in the Big
Apple…I see shopping in my near future!
In the meantime…the buzz is
starting to wear off and oh boy am I in for it tomorrow. You would think a Scot
like myself could hold her alcohol…
I never
learn.
Sigh*
This whole day has suceeded in bringing all the
insecurities about my abilities as a Joe to the forefront. Maybe my mother was
right…I would never fit in here. I was not made for this type of work. I could
play soldier all I wanted but in the end it was all an act. Just another role to
play…
That underneath the uniform I was still just a spoiled little rich
girl looking to spite her mother.
You would like that Mom, wouldn’t you?
To be proven right? For me to fail and come running home with my tail between my
legs?
NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!
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