Those Hollow Lies

The Powerful Reality

6/13/09 morning. Too early for words.

I was fast asleep, dreaming of things that had nothing to do with corrupt governments, two faced girlfriends or sultry secret agents, when I felt someone shaking me awake. I groaned groggily and forced my eyes open.

Roz was standing over me, hands on her hips and dressed in a black shirt, trousers and her normal heeled boots. Her style was enough to tell me that we had work to do, but my body just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. I wasn’t used to getting up at the crack of dawn to go on some super secret mission.

“What?”

“Get up, get dressed. We’re going to see Joe.”

I sat up, the sheets slipping down to reveal my topless chest and muscles that had indeed lost tone over recent years. “But surely he’s in some maximum security prison?”

“Yes, and I have my agents everywhere. We have one hour booked in with him today. We can use a cover as federal agents. With my men on the door no one will question it. We only have sixty minutes though and we cannot afford to be late. You have five minutes to get to the garage otherwise my gun will be shoved up your ass.”

“Good morning to you too.” I mumbled, forcing myself out of bed and wincing when the door slammed shut.

It was nice to see that Roz still walked around with that air of determination about her. Seriously, it kind of helped me forget that Bethany, my girlfriend, was in fact a lying, power abusing bitch. In my messed up mind, that was much more worse than being a cold hearted murderess. After all of this, years of therapy wouldn’t be able to fix my mind.

I met Roz in the garage and shook my head when I saw her leaning against the bike. “Not upgrading to a car yet?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we tend to have more problems when we’re in the car.” I grimaced when I remembered the high speed car chase and cliff dive from three years ago. Roz was right; the bike was much safer, if not a little less inconspicuous.

I mounted the seat behind her and slipped on the helmet, grabbing her waist just in time before she roared the motorbike to life and shot out of the underground garage at a deathly speed.

Nausea was threatening my entire body by the time Roz parked the bike a block away from the prison where Joe was being held. She climbed off the bike and reached into the messenger bag she was wearing, pulling a fake ID card and pass out and handing it to me, slipping her own around her neck.

“So, how is this going to work?” I asked, glancing briefly at the fake name I had been given and then copying her previous move.

“We’re going to walk in. John will be on guard, he’ll let us in once we state our business and sign in and then Carl will take us to the interrogation room where we will have one hour to speak to Joe, work out our next move and get out, before the real feds arrive.”

“Isn’t that a bit risky? What if they’re early?”

“Then we get to fight. Fun times working with me Russ, surely you remember that.” She crossed the street, her hips swaying unconsciously sexy with each step.

I pulled my eyes away from her and laughed. “Only too well. Let’s try and keep guns away from my head this time. I’m still recovering.”

“People holding guns to your head are going to be the least of your worries this time Russ. Believe me, even I’ve not had to deal with something like this before.”

“That doesn’t reassure a guy Roz, especially not a guy who hasn’t done this for three years.”

“Well, get it together quick.” She pushed the door to the prison open after flashing her ID at the guard who nodded in acknowledgement. I wondered if he was one of her agents stationed here, but it wasn’t exactly the best idea to ask it when the building was probably crawling with the bad kind of double agents.