SIS Agent Cutter

Standing in a portable lamp lit room in the decrepit ‘Star Hotel’ in the port city of Southampton four men were present amongst the ghosts of the abandoned hotel.

“So Agent Cutter we meet at last” said the suited man in an impeccable English accent honed by the ‘public’ British (not English, dear Lord no!) schooling system.

“Indeed, Mr Lactovia I presume?” Lactovia balked slightly at the mention of the name from an old life before.
“Your research shows Mr Cutter, however it seems that as always my preparations have paid off”
It seemed they had for Cutter was being restrained by two large beasts of men, each a head higher than the fit Secret Intelligence Service man, Indeed it might have seemed foolish to walk into the abandoned yet beautifully decorated Victorian hotel and to end up in the eastern function room before a supposed Eastern European drug lord and his goons, since he’d walked into the hotel it was as though his plan was going south. Mr Lactovia nodded and one of the goons punched Cutter allowing the other to restrain him as the first went to fetch a small black holdall.
“I’m sure you’ve seen Marathon Man Agent Cutter, as I’ve learned that you’re a but of a movie buff, but you will be disappointed to learn that Mr Lox tends to focus more on ophthalmology rather than dentistry.” Lox whizzed the dentil drill he had produced from the bag for effect I on the other hand want you to be able to communicate clearly“ said Lactovia as Lox advanced trying to look more menacing.

‘As if the threat of torture and death by eastern Europeans isn’t enough’ thought Cutter, then Lactovia to fulfil all the clichés of the movies offered him a final request.

“Cigarette?” inquired Cutter? They were going to see through it,, but maybe not, they did think they were still in control, but control is easily toppled, as Cutter knew from years of wetwork. Mr Lactovia produced a gold plated cigarette case and matching lighter. The brute restraining Cutter pushed him forward and as Cuter looked over his shoulder he saw him produce a pistol replete with suppressor. Cold black and deadly it was pointed at the small of Cutter’s back. They were obviously enjoying the ‘role’ of being ‘villains’ he reflected as he took the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Cutter knew he had the upper hand now for they had, despite supposed surveillance and ‘research’ made one mistake, and that was underestimating him. That and neglecting the fact that Cutter didn’t smoke.

Blowing the smoke into Lactovia’s face didn’t go too well nor did the round kick to the side of his head which Cutter delivered as he spun out of the brute’s firing arc brining his elbow down on the gun hand, disarming him. Lox was still behind Lactovia, his torture tool looking less effective now that his would be vctim had escaped captivity. With an ox-kick which hopefully hit the brute between the legs Cutter dashed through the door to the adjoining western function room as Lactovia yelled in Lithuanian at his inept henchmen.

From outside they heard the tinkle of glass breaking “He is escaping” bellowed Lactovia in Lithuanian, all element decorum dissolved in rage. The two brutes, Lox and his re-armed accomplice, burst through the door and their eyes went to the broken window, its curtain blowing from the wild winds outside several stories high. Stepping into the room was to be Lox’s final mistake as the breaking of the window was merely for the provision of a weapon, a long shard of glass held in Cutter’s fist, which proceeded to be embedded in Lox’s neck. He went down gurgling as blood frothed from his mouth. The other goon turned, shocked, only to have his face met by Cutters foot. Reflexive tears welled up and he flailed about for his target who deftly dodged out of the way before a reverse heel kick to the spine floored the beast. Recovering a gun Cutter re-entered the eastern function room to see Lactovia making for the door. A zip of a slowed bullet and the ‘tink’ of a firing pin would be all the ghosts of the Star heard as Lactovia went down with a grunt from a bullet to his leg.

He swore at Cutter in a foreign language “Sorry I don’t speak Lithuanian Mr Lactovia, you shall have to use English.”
“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUT WHORE MOTHER!” he hissed as rage boiled in his face with the realisation that he was defeated.
“That’s not very businesslike for a man of your status Mr Lactovia” said Cutter calmly, professionally, devoid of emotion to the enemy. His eyes darted to the drill bag, subtly but not too quickly that Lactovia wouldn’t notice.
“It’s only you and me now, and as they said ‘In space no one can hear you scream’ but a good gag and even the ghosts of this place might have problems” said cutter tearing a piece of curtain. He advanced on Lactovia but bandaged his wound rather than gagging him.

“It would be unprofessional for me to let you bleed to death Mr Lactovia“

“Fuck you and your…” “Yes ‘my whore mother’” Cutter interrupted, "I’ve heard it all before from degenerate arms dealers like yourself. Lactovias eyes widened “Yes I know its actually guns your into not drugs, but here’s a tip for free, people dislike drug dealers more than arms dealers Now where were we. Ah yes...” he looked almost rueful “you are going to answer some questions or else..”

“Wait, no.. ” Lactovia muttered to himself in Lithuanian then spoke aloud in English; “I will give you information and you will not prosecute yes?” Cutter pretended to consider it “That depends on the information. You’ve got link with domestic groups, and don’t give me that Jyhad tuff. I’m talking the deep ones, Real IRA, sleeper cells, National Front, the real threats. Your customers.”

“I have names… but I want guarantees” “’If you want a guarantee buy a toaster’ – you know who said that ? Clint East Wood. He also said ‘you gotta ask yourself one question; “Do I feel lucky?”’”

Lactovia looked confused at Cutters attempt at movie humour but obviously the first bit about Marathon Man was prepared in advance. Typical. This guy had no imagination. “You’ll not have any guarantee from me except that you won’t be prosecuted.”

It seemed good enough for Lacovia who seemed to calm down slightly – he wasn’t breathing as hard. “In the case, a laptop computer on an encrypted hidden drive. Password ‘V-I-zero-V-O-one-D-three” Cutter got out the laptop checking it carefully. No tricks so far…or so it seemed. The Mybook booted quickly and he keyed in the password. “Home-Run-C-colon-backslash-Safekeeper.prg and then you need to mount the hidden drive with the password C-zero-4-L-V-three-R-1-T-A-five. There are lists there". Pulling up the files Cutter had a quick scan. Some of the names looked right. Closing down the laptop he looked at Lactovia

“It looks good Mr Lactovia, our business is concluded. The good news is that you wont be prosecuted” He tapped the laptop for effect.. “The bad news is that in this country we don’t prosecute dead people.”