Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) by Guy Stanton III

now. I’d have to get them redone if I needed them. The top side of the case held a collection of odd looking knives, two 40 caliber automatic pistols, and a small derringer. There were also a couple of grenades.
    I looked at the evidence of the bloody and brutal past laid out before me. It was time to be Agent Shalako once again. I had sworn to the death of the agent character from ever rising again. Once my agent status had cost me the life of my son, now I only hoped that it could save the life of my granddaughter. That is, if there was still a life to be saved.
     
    The evening sounds were in full rigor of effort this evening, mused Chantry to himself, as he sipped from his wine glass. He always came to visit his Virginia estate in the early autumn. This was his favorite time of the day to just enjoy the peace of the countryside. There was not a single sound amiss in the nightly array of insect chirping, but suddenly Chantry felt himself on the edge, at the presence of some unknown danger.
    Surreptitiously under the guise of sipping his wine he scanned the grounds around the expansive patio. His guards were all in place, as well as the blinking indicator lights of his security feeds. He set the glass of wine down before glancing at his watch. There were no security updates. His breathing stilled and ever so slowly he let his gaze rise to trace the outline of the man that now sat across from him in the evening gloom at the table. There had only ever been one man Chantry had known so gifted with this level of silent stealth. His first recruit to the program, Agent Shalako.
    This man had single-handedly helped him hold the Agency for Good together in the early traumatic years of its conception. Few of the current agents on the roster could appreciate how tough it had been to just survive during the height of the Cold War. Shalako had survived though and he had paved the path washed in blood, so that others may follow, but it had all stopped, when he’d lost someone he had valued more than his own life.
    “It is good to see you old friend. You’ve lost nothing of your skill over the years, whereas I can do little better than sit here, as a sacrificial lamb ripe for the taking.”
    His silent visitor said nothing and Chantry began to sense the deep level of the other man’s complete apathy of spirit. Chantry leaned forward his eyes searching his former partners implacably stoic controlled features.
    “Why have you come Shalako? You swore to never visit this life again.”
     
    I studied Chantry carefully not sure how much had changed about him and whether I could still trust him. Chantry’s hand came across the table and settled over mine, “What has happened old friend?”
    “I need to redeem a favor Chantry.”
    Chantry leaned back in his chair his face showing surprise, because I had never asked for anything before let alone a favor.
    “As I recall I owe you two favors, but beyond that you know there’s nothing I wouldn’t help you with.”
    I nodded, feeling grateful that at least he hadn’t seemed to change. Everything else had though.
    I slid the folder I had comprised on everything that I knew of Deshavi across the table to him. He picked it up and glanced inside curiously, his eyes flickered back to mine.
    “She’s my granddaughter. She’s been taken. I don’t know by whom. I don’t even know if she’s alive or not. I need you to find her. I have no contacts or resources anymore. I’ve been out of the game too long.”
    “I know what you mean Shalako. This digital age we live in has quite left me behind as well. I rely quite heavily on younger minds to solve the world’s digital pathways and decipher its riddles.” Chantry said as he stood up.
    I stood up to.
    Chantry lifted the folder, “I’ll have my people work through the night on this, if any things to be learned of her I will know by tomorrow morning. Meet me here at six.”
    I nodded and faded away into the darkness.
     
    Chantry watched