THE SPANISH WAITER: TWENTY

Back to three agents of The Firm

Sparky looked about himself in horror and shook his head.

“But this is a cell!” he protested to the two grinning guards who had roughly ushered him and Sparky into a tiny claustrophobic room, “just a couple of bunks and a bucket to piss in!”

“I’m so sorry,” murmured one of the two Spanish guards as his smile melted away and was replaced by a grimace after what looked like a humongous effort, “but it’s what was ordered by my boss! We just do as we’re told, you understand?”

“Ah, but who told you?” demanded Boney, “you ought to understand that I’m quite high up in the British secret service and my word counts for a lot all over the planet! Just you wait and see when I get out of here!”

“Who ordered us? Well, that would be telling,” replied the same guard, “what do you say, number Two?”

“Not speak words, numero Uno,” replied the other guard

Number one, or numero ono, almost laughed, then “You must forgive my fellow officer, sir he aid with mock politeness, “but he finds it difficult when it comes to speaking your language, and even harder understanding it, you understand? So any complaints you may have must be made to him and he’ll muddle through them in time! Now you, sweetie,” he grinned at Murial who was standing behind him and looking more confused than ever, “it would be quite wrong for us to assume you would be happy to spend your time in the company of two men who might take a fancy to your sweet little backside, so you will come with us to far more luxurious accommodation qhre you might be a little more comfortable!”

“I’m staying with my friends!” she retorted, “we stay together though thick and thin, which is what makes us into an effective unit!”

“Then you’ll have to piss in the same bucket, and you know how accurate us men can be when we’re desperate,” replied Number One, shaking his head while Number Two grinned. “And there’s just two bunks,” he added, “how will you decide who to cuddle up with?”

“So it’s divide and conquer is it?” snarled Boney and he went to stride towards the English speaking guard only to be rewarded by a bolt from a small phazer gun in his hand.

“That’s close enough,” he said, gently while Boney howled with the sudden shock from the weapon, “and to inform you properly, you have been arrested because you were caught in the act of spying on a top secret project. I ask you, how would you feel if Spanish spies were caught exploring a secret installation in your country? You can stay here until we’re told what to do with you, and if we are ordered to execute you then that is what we will do.” His face hardened. “With pleasure,” he added.

All Boney could do was splutter, partly in shocked oain and partly in exasperation, But the word execute had not been lost to him, and it crossed his mind that the three of them were possibly in a dangerously dodgy predicament.

The guards both retreated after spinning round with a growling laugh, leaving Murial with the two men, all three at a loss as to what to do or think.

“You handled that badly, Boney,” she hissed eventually when they were sure they were on their own, “and as for who I’m cuddling up next to it’s nobody. There are two bunks and you boys can share one of them while I get some shut-eye on the other! Call yourself a superspiy, Boney? That Spanish guy walked all over you!”

“What would you have done differently?” he asked.

“To start with, I’d have made some reference to the European court and the rules concerning human rights,” she muttered, not quite sure of the facts himself since Britain had opted to leave the European Union.

“Fat lot of good that would have done!” snapped Boney.

“Maybe, but you might at least have tried,” she murmured, “instead of letting him blast you with his ray gun when you decided to turn all macho on him!”

“They had the upper hand and when thickies like them have the upper hand, logic and reason go out of the window,” put in Sparky, “and as for logic and reason, none of us got a wink of sleep last night in that wreck of a car and there are two uncomfortable looking beds here and we should take full advantage of them”

“On empty stomachs?” growled Boney, “we haven’t even had a cup of tea!”

“Maybe we’re having a taste of what that schoolmaster had to suffer for twelve years, believing you were dead and told that he’d killed you,” sniffed Murial.

“You both know that the terrorist gang had got wind that I was a plant and I had to get away and make it look as if it was permanent,” grunted Boney, “you know that as well as me! They had to be quite certain that I was dead! If there had to be collateral damage then I’m sorry, but it was better him being behind bars where any brief worth his pay would have got him off in a twinkling than me being a stiff and the gang blowing Brumpton sky-high!”

“But they weren’t real terrorists, were they?” murmured Murial, “any more than we’re spies stealing technical secrets from a Spanish helicopter company? But I agree that we need to get our heads down for a few hours. We’ll be more certain about what to do if we’re rested, and we’d better spend whatever time we’re alone in the land of nod dreaming up a good way to get out of here.”

“That makes sense. Trust a woman to know what’s best,” yawned Sparky.

Boney looked at the two bunks, side by side at the end of their cell, if cell it was.

“I’ll have that one then,” and he pointed to the one that to his eyes looked as if it was marginally more comfortable than the other.

“No way!”retorted Marion, “I don’t go for unisex sleeping unless I’ve no intention of actually sleeping but doing something more interesting instead! Yes, you can have that one but only if you share it with Sparky!”

“No way!” yelped Sprky, “I’m not sharing with Bonehead! He farts all night! I’ve heard him, like a machine gun!”

“Boys,” she said, “then one of you will have to sleep on the floor, which looks vwry much like hard concrete. But I’m telling you here and now that I’m not sharing a bed with either of you and your wandering hands!”

Before either of the other two could object she sat on one of the bunks, felt it, scowled and said “it’s firmer than I like, much firmer, but it’ll do. Good night, fellas!”

“It’s not night,” grated Boney, “and I’m the senior officer in this cell!”

“Good morning, then,” grinned the woman, and slowly, enticingly, she stretched out, occupying all of her chosen bunk.

“Flamin’ b***h!” protested Sparky.

“Just get some shut-eye,” yawned Murial, and she issued a make-believe snore.

“You’re that end, then,” grunted Boney to Sparky, “and keep your mouth shut or else!”

And that, for a couple of hours, was that.

© Peter Rogerson 20.11.22

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