A.K.A.

A.K.A.

Another day, another name, another place. Last week she had been Elizabeth Mackey of England. The month before, Stasia Kyznetsov of Russia. And though she was stationed on some godforsaken base in the middle of nowhere, Angelina Dwyer was finally allowed to be herself.

Why do deserts exist, and why do evil organizations love them so much? Angelina thought wryly to herself. She would have almost traded a new name for a new place. Almost. Her specialty in the field was deep cover. Chances of her receiving quick reconnaissance missions were slim to none, and she took them as often as they came. But oh, the places sand could go. Angelina scowled and adjusted her dun colored camouflage pants. Why Thomas Edison hadn’t thought of sand- proof underwear, the world will never know. Her uncomfortable romp in the sand was nearly at its end though, because she was only ten feet from her desired destination.

The metal panels of the small, unused warehouse wavered in the heat. The sun reflected sharply off of its sides in every direction, blinding anyone who looked directly at the building. Angelina blinked slowly, ignoring her eye’s stinging protest.

Is that a guy over there? She asked herself, blinking again more quickly. The sweat already covering her sticky body increased. It was a guy, and by the looks of it, he was here for her exact same reason. The woman pressed herself deeper into the sand, hoping to keep her presence a secret.

The young man crouched against the shady side of the building, his arctic blue eyes sweeping the land for any movement. Everything about him blended in; from his short blond hair, to his tan leather gloves. Unfortunately, Angelina was not here for sight seeing, and her mission was just about to be ruined.

She had been sent into the depths of Egypt to locate and observe the base on which some satellite pictures were stored. For the past two days, she had been skulking in the shadows, making notes of everything around her. Fellow agents were coming to extract the photos in the next few days, using the information she provided. But by the looks of the man in front of her, there would be nothing left to extract. He was not there for mere observation; he was there to steal.

Pleased with his surroundings, the operative finally slipped into the building. Angelina was only seconds behind him. Her legs screamed with protest as she lurched to her feet in the uneven sand. It had been hours since she last stood, which was going to have a toll on her agility. The woman surged forward despite the aching. Those photos will NOT be taken!


The door to the warehouse had been left slightly cracked, which immediately set off alarms in Angelina’s head. Hiding behind the opposite wall, she peeked through the narrow slit. The scene was a familiar one; rusted pipes, mountains of boxes, and dusty support beams. The only thing missing was the man. Where the hell did he get off to?

The woman curled her fingers around the door, easing it silently open six inches. She looked inside again. Not a single thing moved. She knew at that instant something was wrong, but it was already too late. Strong hands seized her wrist, yanking her inside the building with a magnificent force. On instinct, Angelina threw her weight to the side. Losing her balance, the agent was slammed into the corner, crumpling her to the floor.

It was right as her feet were back on solid ground that she heard the click. It was a small sound, one you’d have to be trained to recognize.

“Don’t move.” Was the first thing he said, crisp British accent swelling through the room.

How original Angelina grumbled, irritated that she had gotten herself in this compromising position.

“Walk backwards towards me, and don’t make any sudden moves.”

The woman slowly raised her arms to her sides, and took steady steps backwards. He grabbed her right wrist in his powerful grip this time, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her to her knees. Warm metal bit into the back of her head. The gun was silenced, which did not surprise her.

“Well would you look at what the desert spit out.”

Angelina’s jaw dropped, her back stiffening. How dare that prick make fun of me!
“Why you little bastard!” she growled through clenched teeth.

His provocative laugh slithered along her skin, giving her the goosebumps. “And with such poor word choice!”

The young man crouched down, his lips brushing lightly against her ear. “You may call me insidious, for that is all I am.”

“And you can call me an angel, for I will send you to heaven faster than you can say mercy.”

Angelina swung her head back blindly, grinning at the sickening crunch of his breaking nose. The gun slid out of his hand, bullet lodging itself into the wall in front of her.

“Shit!” she heard him curse before she cracked her elbow into his jaw. The man flew back, springing back up as fast as he had fallen.

He charged her full force, driving her backwards. They tumbled into a pile of boxes. He struck her in the chest, drawing a gasp of pain. Two can play that game! She thought fiercely as she nailed him in the crotch. He grunted, falling once more to the floor.

Angelina dove for the gun at the other side of the small room, but his hand caught her ankle first. He drove her head into a support beam, and she collapsed. The man climbed on top of her, pinning her to the cold cement floor. A pair of handcuffs appeared in his hands.

He glanced around quickly, finally deciding to latch her to the pipes. Angelina struggled helplessly against his grasp, wincing as the cold bracelets pinched her skin.

The young man rolled off of her, gaining distance between them before he accessed his injuries.

“Bloody hell woman! Did you have to kick me so hard in the nuts?”