The Aftermath | British Spooks

Running, running, running… Every time his feet gave up and he fell to the ground, he would gather himself up, stumble forth a pace or two and then gathering speed through some sheer contortion of the will, he was once again running fast down the hill. His cheek hurt, as if the earth had slapped him so that his body might suffer as did his ego. Thoughts, one after another, followed his mind’s eye inwards. Mission unaccomplished.

It wasn’t a first time for things to go wrong. The target escaped unscathed. His partner was nowhere to be seen. She had accompanied him against her better judgement, knowing that there was every chance she would be recognised, her disguise too feeble at short notice. He had failed her and now she was gone. Dead or worse…

He was certain that he would die of guilt before dehydration or exhaustion had a chance to finish him off. What a coward. Yet what could have been gained from staying behind? All had been lost long before he took to the road. He had to survive. If there was any chance of getting her back, he will do so. Time. It was all a matter of time. Hours, a few days at most.

Which hurt more, mattered more: loss or humiliation? Humiliation he could deal with. He had been humiliated many a time in his life. He had learnt to let it wash over, turn every knockdown into an upward step. You did not get into his shoes by wasting time on pity parties. But this he had not expected.

He thought of her name. It was seldom that he indulged in speaking it out. Ever cautious, she had forbidden it, even when alone. She became a number, a code. Just like him. She was little more than a shadow. Her past so insubstantial as to allow her to disappear at will. For a time they had worked the field apart. He didn’t like her restraint. She despised his recklessness. Alaska had changed everything. Too much perhaps. And then came the Game…

“We have to get out of here now. He knows,” she had said. She had meant it. He knew that much. It could not have been all a lie. So where did they go wrong? Had there been clues? Did she try to tell him, did she try to warn him? Had he been too wrapped up in his ego to pay sufficient attention?

Running, running, running… He was exhausted. He stumbled. He fell to the ground. The cut on his right cheek had started to burnt and now he could feel his heart pulsating in the side of his face. No. It was impossible. He must be imagining things. Hot liquid gushed unexpectedly down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them dry, his hands dirtied by the dust of the road. Shaking, he forced himself to straighten up again and looked along the road ahead and then behind him. Alone, he screamed. Once. Twice. Thrice.

It was the release he needed. All of the pain, the dull thumping tension that had been gathering strength in his chest, let out at once. He laughed. A madman, his suit ripped at the knees and covered in dust, his face slashed and bleeding, dirt mingled with blood.

After a while his laughter subsided and he breathed in deeply. It felt that he had never truly breathed before that moment. His eyes had a mad glimmer about them and the trace of a smirk was imprinted in the corner of his face. Limping slightly he continued down the hill, one step at a time, determined yet heavy. The weight of a life to be saved set on his shoulders.

Daily Prompt: The Heat is On

Meanwhile… somewhere in London | #VB009 Webisode

Call it serendipity. A story can find its beginnings in a random tweet and months later it is still going strong.

Some time ago Kavalkade asked a question I was reluctant to answer so I sidetracked with the following:

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to …”

After a few back-and-forths I said my goodbyes and added a throw away remark about a target than needed to be ousted urgently.

So began the Krew Kapture saga with yours truly starring as Crown Agent extraordinaire 009.

Although Kavalkade has full artistic licence and all the dialogue in his Webisodes are his own creation, every now an then I will add a line or two, moving the story along. He has kindly incorporated my catch phrase “Crumpets!” and even introduced Cumberbatch to attempt to distract my alter-ego from accomplishing HQ missions.

If you are curious to find out his latest musings on the subject, please follow the link below.

#VB009 Webisode.

Alternatively, you could find the story on Twitter under #VB009.

All the best from the London HQ,

Yours surreptitiously,

009

Legacy

It is not often that I feel strongly enough about a movie to write a review. The only reason why I am taking the time to write this one is simple enough: I’ve waisted ninety minutes of my life watching it. Perhaps I’ll save you the bother by keeping it simple:

A cold war spy yarn it may be, but a thriller it is certainly not.

The atmosphere at first reminded me of Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy – curtesy of the wardrobe and props department, but this is where the similarities between le Careé and Legacy came to an end. Even the protagonist’s name seemed like something out of a Dickensian do-over: Thoroughgood. He must be the “goody” then. Thoroughly so.

Such a pity too, because the premise was good: an MI6 trainee is charged with “turning” a former Oxford chum, now a KGB agent under cover as an embassy employee in London, and discovers instead that his own father may have been spying for the Soviets. There was a lot of potential there to go into the psychological innings that such a discovery would’ve prompted, but unfortunately Paula Milner’s adaptation seemed to have other priorities. Speeding through the plot without leaving any space for suspense to build up must’ve been one of them.

I’ve been going on and on about clichés last year and how writers ought to do all they possibly can to avoid them. Well. Film directors may do well to follow the advice too. Comedy Russian accent? Check. Dead prostitute? Check. Blonde love interest? Check. The list goes on, but truthfully, by the time they got around to the 70s fondue set I stopped counting.

Verdict? Don’t watch it. If you’re in the mood for a British spy movie, you’re better off re-watching Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy or alternatively go modern and opt for Spooks. You’re in for a treat there.