It was just before dawn. Everyone was still asleep. A shadowy figure slipped into the hallway and floated towards the heart of the house. It approached the closed door at the end of the hall and waited. Until this moment, not a sound had been made, and then, ever so softly, a tiny whisper was heard. Albert could barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart. “Your mission, Jim, should you decide to accept it, is to make yourself breakfast, leave a note explaining where you will be, and sneak out of the house without being caught. Your objective, to obtain information about the Shadow. Make contact with Samson Browne. He is the double agent, but be careful. The evil Carlotta is ever present. As always, should you or any member of your I.M. Force be caught or killed, the secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds.”
He paused and listened again. If anyone were awake, they would be in the kitchen. The door swung open slowly, just a crack at first, and then, just enough to allow Albert to slip into the kitchen.
The coast was clear. He crossed the kitchen, and again the boy used his quietest spy skills. He quickly cracked the code on the refrigerator. It was just one of his many specialties. The safe was full, but he did not let that distract him. He spied the milk and grabbed it. He took his prize over to the kitchen table and poured himself a big glass. Next, he grabbed the last package of Pop Tarts. He always knew about Colonel McGrath’s secret stash in the back of the pantry but the time was never right. This particular morning, however, it was perfect. Oh yes! This morning was his most important mission for the Impossible Missions Force to date. He was going to be successful. He didn’t bother to heat them up. He didn’t want to get caught. He hastily scribbled a note to Cinnamon Carter, still, the leader of the IMF in Albert’s mind. Her code name for this episode was M.O.M. He told her that he was already out “to play” and that he would rescue Agent Bruiser from U.N.C.L.E. To assist him in his mission. His best guess was that they were going to be gone all day. He really hated involving both the IMF and U.N.C.L.E., but the severity of this mission left him no options. He left the message on the counter under her favorite coffee mug. He hoped that would be enough to thwart General Augusta, his handler’s boss. His intuition had kept him wary. Thoughts of double agents had plagued him. With the slip of paper safely stashed, he opened the screen door and stepped out into a morning shrouded in mist. He made it. It had taken every last one of his highly trained espionage skills, but he had made it! The day was now his.
BAM!
Unfortunately, he had forgotten about the spring on the door, and the screen door slammed. Bam!
They took a shot at him. He couldn’t have believed it. Not to worry; no one had ever successfully hit him. He had been far too good. He ran to Bruiser’s pen and broke him out. The two fugitives scrambled to get out of the country before they got caught. He explained the mission to Bruiser between breaths as they ran for the fence that had tried t keep him off the old state road.
His mother had been in awake in her bedroom and quickly headed for the kitchen, but no one was there. She saw Albert and Bruiser as they ran down the dirt driveway. She saw her son climb the fence next to the open gate in the driveway. She smiled and watched them until they were almost out of sight, then turned to get the coffee going. The coffee pot gurgled and teased with the earthy aroma. Abbie picked up the note that Albert left on the counter. She read it quickly and smiled and then, once again, looked out the window. Albert had stopped and was talking to Bruiser, but she can’t hear what he is saying. He was quite animated. She smiled again.
“Albert?” she called after him. This time a little louder. “Albert?” But he must have been out of earshot. That was OK. He was growing up fast. He was going to be okay.
She loved the fact that he seemed to be having a good time this summer. She hadn’t been sure how he would like staying with his grandparents. It had been the biggest concern she had when she and Leland discussed his plans to be gone all summer. The photo shoot in New Guinea was an enormous break for him, but he wouldn’t leave her and Albert alone in Jacksonville all summer. He would only take the assignment if she would take Albert up to her parents and spend the summer with them. It was a difficult choice. The assignment for the National Geographic Society would make her husband a “respectable” photographer. No more weddings or portraits of whiney kids.
The job could also be an end to their financial concerns. They might even get to move to Washington D.C. where he hoped to get hired on full time with the Society. Happy thoughts were running through her head when her mother made her presence known to her.
“Abilene. You mustn’t allow your boy to behave so. He needs to show you a little more respect.” The words were cold and emotionless.
“He’s just a boy, Mama.”
Grandmother just stared at her. Abbie knew that look. It was the one that she reserved for her when the response was not adequate.
By this time Albert and Bruiser were entirely out of sight. At least there was that.
Agent O had completed the first leg of his assignment. The Agent from U.N.C.L.E. had been successfully liberated. “So Bruiser, how do you think I can get Mr. Sam to tell me about the Shadow?”
Bruiser wasn’t much of a strategist. He was all muscle.
“That Miss Carlotta is gonna be the tough one. I have strong suspicions that she's a double agent. If I could only get her off the porch, even for a minute, I bet I could get Mr. Sam started. And then…” Albert snapped his fingers. Bruiser looked up. Albert gave him a wink and while he couldn’t tell for sure—the disguise hid much of the man’s features—he thought his bodyguard was smiling.
“Well… I know I asked you this before but you had all night to think on it, and I thought, well, maybe, just maybe, you figured it out.” Still no answer.
“Why do you suppose it’s so important? And why won’t Miss Lottie, er, Carlotta let him tell me about it?”
“I bet it has to do with the CIA or Interpol or something. And Miss Lottie just thinks I ain’t big enough for it to concern me. She doesn’t know that I’m a real secret agent myself and can handle it. And I’m strong. Mr. Sam said so himself.”
“Maybe it isn’t spy stuff at all. Maybe it’s like something like The Twilight Zone or Scooby Doo—something creepy like that.” Bruiser snorted. “Scooby isn’t real Bruiser. He’s just a dog on TV, and he’s not even a real dog like Lassie. He’s just a cartoon dog! Like Mutley or Droopy. Hmm? Oh, they’re dogs, too.” Albert walked on in silence for a few minutes thinking about what he just told his dog. And while he liked spy stuff well enough, the idea of something strange and scary led to so many more possibilities. “I bet Napoleon Solo would know. When you get back to your headquarters you should ask him.” He noticed that the big dog had taken a seat. “Oh, come on! Don’t play dumb. Everybody knows who he is. I heard all about him from the IMF, but all I had to do was watch TV. Hmm? Hello! The Man from U.N.C.L.E. What do you mean Grandmother doesn’t let you watch that?” He started walking again—in silence, the time. The game was now over. Bruiser followed.
“So, tell me, boy, how can we get Mr. Sam to tell us? That Miss Lottie is a tough one; she doesn’t EVER leave Mr. Sam alone on that porch for more than a minute or two.”
They continued in this manner for quite some time. Then Albert grew quiet. Somehow talking about the shadow put him on edge.
It wasn’t quite eight o’clock when Albert and Bruiser came up on the Browne place. Albert couldn’t wait and took off running! Bruiser let him go. He never did seem to want to head up to the porch. The old hickory was close enough for him.
“Good morning Burty!” Mr. Sam was beaming.
“Well, hiyah, Mr. Sam! Mornin’ Miss Lottie.” He launched himself onto the porch and hurried to get settled in his usual spot at Mr. Sam’s feet.
“Sweet Baby Jesus! What ‘choo doing out here so early, Albert?”
“Well…” he had to think fast although the words were coming out real slow. “Today is cleaning day, Miss Lottie…” He rolled his eyes, cocked his head and rubbed his chin. “…and Grandmother likes an early start.” There. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Saturday was wash day and Grandmother did like an early start.
“So why ain’t choo at home helpin’ yo’ Granny?”
His mind was wandering again.
“Burty! Miss Lottie was asking you a question.” He was smiling like he almost always did when Albert came to visit. And Miss Lottie was shaking her head. That was also something that happened a lot.
“Child, one day, that brain o’ yours is gonna get you in trouble!” But she was smiling too.
End of Chapter
Chapter 5: The Shadow at Work
© 2009 Michael O’Connell. All rights reserved.
