Reprobate
03-12-2004, 12:42 PM
I wrote this story back in 1997. It's light, it's fluffy, and it won't spoil your appetite.
Mission: Improbable
The pen signed off the credit card receipt and he handed it back to the woman behind the counter. She looked at the signature, the card and then back up to the credit card holder.
“Excuse me sir, do you have any other ID?” she said
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The card says Daniel Moore and you signed it ‘Marcus Reeves’. Is this your card?”
“Oh sorry, yeah my name’s Daniel Moore,” Daniel picked up the signed paper for closer examination. It did say Marcus Reeves.
After producing his drivers license as proof Daniel resigned his name on the credit transaction. It was a bit embarrassing. Especially as there was another customer behind him. Daniel walked back to his car. The other customer had made his purchase and followed him out to the car park and watched him hop into his car. It made Daniel feel uncomfortable that this stranger would think regard him with the same suspicion as a credit card fraud. But he thought it stranger that he signed the name of somebody he’d never heard of before.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel got home and thought about what had happened. Somewhere at the back of his mind the name rung a bell. He just couldn’t place it. He looked through old school photos and scoured through an old address book but he still couldn’t put a finger on it.
Somewhere at the back of Daniel’s brain a few latent memories started to stir. He wasn’t sure about it but he felt as if he was Marcus Reeves.
He began to piece it together. He pulled out the crumpled up credit transaction. He remembered signing this name before. He remembered using it. Perhaps he was suffering from amnesia and he wasn’t really Daniel Moore.
He looked up at a family photo of him with his Mum, Dad and sister. Maybe they weren’t really his family after all. That would probably explain why his father seemed so distant when he was around. He could even remember his father saying last Christmas “he’s no son of mine”.
“So what did Marcus Reeves do?” Daniel asked himself, “Am I a fugitive or a spy or something…
That rang a bell. He started to recollect secret missions, concealed identities and covert operations. “I AM A SECRET AGENT!”
Well that cleared up a lot. It explained why he had the strange dreams, the frightening nightmares and the other ones that involved exotic women in erotic fantasies. He was reliving a past life.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel’s thoughts were quickly brought back to reality with a loud knock on the front door. Daniel looked though the peep hole and there was the guy who was behind at the shop he must have been tailing him. He would have heard the name Marcus Reeves.
“Who is it?” asked Daniel, too afraid to open the door.
“Is that you Dan?” asked the man.
“Yeah, I’m Daniel Moore.”
“Just as I thought,” and the guy pulled a hand gun from out of a holster. Daniel saw it and almost wet himself. Without a second thought he was running for the back door.
The door got kicked open with a splintering crunch. Special Agent Anderson dropped to one knee and panned his pistol from left to right and back again. He saw the open door out in the kitchen. “That guy’s a slippery bastard.” He muttered to himself. “if I hadn’t overheard his name at the shop I never would have known we had a hit man quietly living in this suburb.”
Anderson cautiously exited out the back door. Gun still drawn and ready. He heard a car start up at the front of the house. “Shit, I’m a dick head” said Anderson as he slapped is forehead and ran for his car to give chase and get some back up.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel pulled up at his sisters place.
“Quick, they’re after me” he panted as he drew all the curtains in the lounge room.
Sheree stood there looking at him, “What the hell are you going on about?”
“Sheree, you’ve gotta believe me. I’m a secret undercover agent and there’s some guy… he must be an assassin or something, he’s after me!”
“Danny, sit down,” said Sheree, “what are you talking about.”
Daniel explained the credit card incident, the man with the gun and his returning memories of being Marcus Reeves.
He finished by asking her, “Am I going crazy?”
“I think you’re misinterpreted a few coincidences,” said Sheree.
“Misinterpreted?! He had a gun!”
“But you a secret agent? Come on, pull the other one.”
“Look I got memories of growing up with you but maybe they were implanted.”
“You’ve seen too many B-grade movies. You’ve always been my stupid younger brother, I was at the hospital when you were born” said Sheree.
“Yeah, but remember just last Christmas Dad said ‘he’s no son of mine!’.”
“And that’s because he caught you masturbating in the toilet.”
“That’s beside the point,” blushed Daniel.
“He’s also called you a bastard, it doesn’t mean you were born out of wedlock.”
“But what if I am this Marcus Reeves.”
“Marcus Reeves! Harr!” Sheree broke into fits of laughter.
“What! What’s so funny!” exclaimed Daniel.
“Those vague memories you’re having,” said Sheree, “those come from your childhood.”
“What do you mean? Was that my real name?”
“No dummy. When we were kids we used to pretend to be secret agents. You called yourself Marcus Reeves…”
“And you were Natasha Brock! I remember now!”
“Yeah, Natasha Brock. Makes me sound like an mysterious woman. An assassin.”
“Look who’s dreaming now.” laughed Daniel.
“Yeah right, wanker.” Sheree.
“I’ll make sure I lock the door next time.”
“Or get yourself a girlfriend,” joked Sheree.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A car pulled up out the front of Sheree’s house. Anderson got out with three other men. Daniel and Sheree heard it and they peeped out through the curtains. The four big burly men pulled out their guns and ran to the door.
“Shit! How come my make belief childhood character has big bad men chasing after me in real life. Explain that to me Sheree.”
Sheree didn’t have time to explain, the door got kicked in. Daniel dove behind a lounge as Anderson went for him with a drawn gun. The other three kept him covered.
Sheree sprung up from behind another chair and gave Anderson a kick to the head. She twisted his arm and brought up Anderson’s gun to sit under his jaw. “Alright arseholes back up! Or your mate here is going to repaint my ceiling with his brains.”
The three back up men stopped in their tracks but didn’t lower their guns. One of them began to speak, “Put down the gun miss, we’re with the Federal Police.” they slowly pulled out their badges. We’re after that man there,” they pointed at Daniel. “He’s a fugitive, we’re here to take him back into custody.”
“You’re after the wrong guy,’ squeaked Daniel.
“I think not,” gasped Anderson through Sheree’s vice like grip around his throat, “I heard you say your name was Dan Elmore.”
“His name’s Daniel Moore, you idiot.” She let go of Anderson but kept his gun.
“There seems to be a bit of a mix-up,” said an embarrassed officer.
“Yep, more then one,” said Sheree.
They apologised and paid for two broken doors. “Try knocking next time,” was the advice Daniel gave them.
“You should give the same advice to Dad,” grinned Sheree.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sheree poured Daniel a stiff drink to settle his nerves and laughed about the whole affair. “You were amazing Sheree, the way you got that guy and handled his pistol. You’re like a real pro.”
Sheree drove Daniel back to his house. When she got home there was an e-mail on her computer:
“Classified Information. Assignment for agent Natasha Brock. Your mission if you choose to accept it…
(c)1997. DarkSide.
Mission: Improbable
The pen signed off the credit card receipt and he handed it back to the woman behind the counter. She looked at the signature, the card and then back up to the credit card holder.
“Excuse me sir, do you have any other ID?” she said
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The card says Daniel Moore and you signed it ‘Marcus Reeves’. Is this your card?”
“Oh sorry, yeah my name’s Daniel Moore,” Daniel picked up the signed paper for closer examination. It did say Marcus Reeves.
After producing his drivers license as proof Daniel resigned his name on the credit transaction. It was a bit embarrassing. Especially as there was another customer behind him. Daniel walked back to his car. The other customer had made his purchase and followed him out to the car park and watched him hop into his car. It made Daniel feel uncomfortable that this stranger would think regard him with the same suspicion as a credit card fraud. But he thought it stranger that he signed the name of somebody he’d never heard of before.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel got home and thought about what had happened. Somewhere at the back of his mind the name rung a bell. He just couldn’t place it. He looked through old school photos and scoured through an old address book but he still couldn’t put a finger on it.
Somewhere at the back of Daniel’s brain a few latent memories started to stir. He wasn’t sure about it but he felt as if he was Marcus Reeves.
He began to piece it together. He pulled out the crumpled up credit transaction. He remembered signing this name before. He remembered using it. Perhaps he was suffering from amnesia and he wasn’t really Daniel Moore.
He looked up at a family photo of him with his Mum, Dad and sister. Maybe they weren’t really his family after all. That would probably explain why his father seemed so distant when he was around. He could even remember his father saying last Christmas “he’s no son of mine”.
“So what did Marcus Reeves do?” Daniel asked himself, “Am I a fugitive or a spy or something…
That rang a bell. He started to recollect secret missions, concealed identities and covert operations. “I AM A SECRET AGENT!”
Well that cleared up a lot. It explained why he had the strange dreams, the frightening nightmares and the other ones that involved exotic women in erotic fantasies. He was reliving a past life.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel’s thoughts were quickly brought back to reality with a loud knock on the front door. Daniel looked though the peep hole and there was the guy who was behind at the shop he must have been tailing him. He would have heard the name Marcus Reeves.
“Who is it?” asked Daniel, too afraid to open the door.
“Is that you Dan?” asked the man.
“Yeah, I’m Daniel Moore.”
“Just as I thought,” and the guy pulled a hand gun from out of a holster. Daniel saw it and almost wet himself. Without a second thought he was running for the back door.
The door got kicked open with a splintering crunch. Special Agent Anderson dropped to one knee and panned his pistol from left to right and back again. He saw the open door out in the kitchen. “That guy’s a slippery bastard.” He muttered to himself. “if I hadn’t overheard his name at the shop I never would have known we had a hit man quietly living in this suburb.”
Anderson cautiously exited out the back door. Gun still drawn and ready. He heard a car start up at the front of the house. “Shit, I’m a dick head” said Anderson as he slapped is forehead and ran for his car to give chase and get some back up.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Daniel pulled up at his sisters place.
“Quick, they’re after me” he panted as he drew all the curtains in the lounge room.
Sheree stood there looking at him, “What the hell are you going on about?”
“Sheree, you’ve gotta believe me. I’m a secret undercover agent and there’s some guy… he must be an assassin or something, he’s after me!”
“Danny, sit down,” said Sheree, “what are you talking about.”
Daniel explained the credit card incident, the man with the gun and his returning memories of being Marcus Reeves.
He finished by asking her, “Am I going crazy?”
“I think you’re misinterpreted a few coincidences,” said Sheree.
“Misinterpreted?! He had a gun!”
“But you a secret agent? Come on, pull the other one.”
“Look I got memories of growing up with you but maybe they were implanted.”
“You’ve seen too many B-grade movies. You’ve always been my stupid younger brother, I was at the hospital when you were born” said Sheree.
“Yeah, but remember just last Christmas Dad said ‘he’s no son of mine!’.”
“And that’s because he caught you masturbating in the toilet.”
“That’s beside the point,” blushed Daniel.
“He’s also called you a bastard, it doesn’t mean you were born out of wedlock.”
“But what if I am this Marcus Reeves.”
“Marcus Reeves! Harr!” Sheree broke into fits of laughter.
“What! What’s so funny!” exclaimed Daniel.
“Those vague memories you’re having,” said Sheree, “those come from your childhood.”
“What do you mean? Was that my real name?”
“No dummy. When we were kids we used to pretend to be secret agents. You called yourself Marcus Reeves…”
“And you were Natasha Brock! I remember now!”
“Yeah, Natasha Brock. Makes me sound like an mysterious woman. An assassin.”
“Look who’s dreaming now.” laughed Daniel.
“Yeah right, wanker.” Sheree.
“I’ll make sure I lock the door next time.”
“Or get yourself a girlfriend,” joked Sheree.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A car pulled up out the front of Sheree’s house. Anderson got out with three other men. Daniel and Sheree heard it and they peeped out through the curtains. The four big burly men pulled out their guns and ran to the door.
“Shit! How come my make belief childhood character has big bad men chasing after me in real life. Explain that to me Sheree.”
Sheree didn’t have time to explain, the door got kicked in. Daniel dove behind a lounge as Anderson went for him with a drawn gun. The other three kept him covered.
Sheree sprung up from behind another chair and gave Anderson a kick to the head. She twisted his arm and brought up Anderson’s gun to sit under his jaw. “Alright arseholes back up! Or your mate here is going to repaint my ceiling with his brains.”
The three back up men stopped in their tracks but didn’t lower their guns. One of them began to speak, “Put down the gun miss, we’re with the Federal Police.” they slowly pulled out their badges. We’re after that man there,” they pointed at Daniel. “He’s a fugitive, we’re here to take him back into custody.”
“You’re after the wrong guy,’ squeaked Daniel.
“I think not,” gasped Anderson through Sheree’s vice like grip around his throat, “I heard you say your name was Dan Elmore.”
“His name’s Daniel Moore, you idiot.” She let go of Anderson but kept his gun.
“There seems to be a bit of a mix-up,” said an embarrassed officer.
“Yep, more then one,” said Sheree.
They apologised and paid for two broken doors. “Try knocking next time,” was the advice Daniel gave them.
“You should give the same advice to Dad,” grinned Sheree.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sheree poured Daniel a stiff drink to settle his nerves and laughed about the whole affair. “You were amazing Sheree, the way you got that guy and handled his pistol. You’re like a real pro.”
Sheree drove Daniel back to his house. When she got home there was an e-mail on her computer:
“Classified Information. Assignment for agent Natasha Brock. Your mission if you choose to accept it…
(c)1997. DarkSide.