Agent 667

By Jeremy Yang

“Please send international help!”

Those were the words of a desperate citizen in Bogota, Columbia, spoken just before being muffled and put in an armored police van.

I am Edward Crackole, known in the MI6 as Agent 667. I have been sent into the midst of Bogota, the capital of Columbia. My mission was to find information about the so-called “king” that’s behind supposed genocide and human rights abuse in Columbia happening in the year 1987.

I was in the lounge at Heathrow Airport. I was about to stand up but then a person in a black suit stopped me. “Edward Crackole or Agent 667,” he said, “I’m with the FBI.”

What?! How does he know this, my name and code name is a national secret, I thought. Additionally, I knew most of the agents in the FBI personally, and I didn’t recognize him.

I should be cautious. And he has a slight accent that I don’t recognize, maybe from South America? Peru? I thought.

The FBI agent continued, “You do not need to go to Bogota anymore, the FBI is dealing with Columbia.”

I spoke, “Really? I just got a letter saying that this is to be discussed in the U.N. chambers, where the diplomat from Columbia will have his say. Wait please, I have a phone call.”

The FBI agent responded, “Okay, I will take my leave now. My name is Bricks Hamer.”

Bricks wasn't saying anything suspicious. He was saying reasonable things. But still, that accent is off, I thought to myself while taking out my ringing phone.

I heard a scrambled voice on the other side of the call. “The U.N. has decided to end the Columbia mission in secret. The Colombian delegate didn’t come to the meeting, disregarding the rules of the U.N. The operation will be a joint one. The FBI will collect information and the MI6 will do the actual work because of our base in Peru and Ecuador.” The call ended.

The Colombian delegate didn’t come? I thought immediately. He was possibly: one, incapacitated in some way; or two, ordered not to come; or three, the most likely, the government was in such a mess that the delegate didn’t know what to do. My face started to scowl in anger.

I left Heathrow Airport and got into a submarine headed towards Mexico, so I could travel in secret and safety. When I boarded the sub I sat down at a table then destroyed my phone and all evidence of me taking the call.

Once I arrived in Mexico, I took an ATV (All-Terrain Vehicle) towards Columbia. While driving, I saw two men patrolling the Mexico-Columbia border. I quickly stopped the ATV and hid behind a tree. I took a quick look and saw the Colombian Border Patrol Insignia on their right shoulders. They were walking towards my direction I was going to take out my sleeping dart gun but they turned around. I soon used the remote-controlled ATV to distract the guards and made a dash away.

I was safe from danger for now, but I was in Columbia. This mission is incredibly risky because of the Intgoo System, I thought to myself. The Intgoo System was a radio jamming wall of towers set across the border of Columbia, meaning the entire country cannot use phones or radios. The “king” just had to implement it. I guessed the reason for this would be because they didn’t want anyone to sneak into the country, or have the populace alert the international community of their wrongdoings.

After that Colombian person asked for help, the “king” had to stop them somehow. Now the only way I could get information was via carrier pigeon from Peru or Ecuador, trained only to find my scent.

I took out a birdcage and released three pigeons into the sky; one to Peru; one to Ecuador, just in case the other didn’t make it, and finally, the last to a nearby casino to send a message to its owner.

After 20 minutes, I saw a man wearing a tuxedo, with sunglasses and brown hair. I recognized him. He was called Momonga Lalkone and he was a professional black market dealer and gambler. He’s a gentleman criminal, which is very different from the criminals who rob banks or take hostages. These types of criminals are only known in the underworld, they are smart, classy and only want money-- no dirty work. They are mercenaries who still have sense of justice; they don’t like killing.

Lalkone saw me and brought me to his secret underground casino that I had sent one of my pigeons to. When I walked in, I saw dazzling lights everywhere, like in Las Vegas. I then saw the main gambling area, which was full of people I knew in a bad way. I saw a weapons dealer who just escaped jail, I saw a con man who had made a multi-billion dollar business, and many more on our wanted list.

He led me to a private room and spoke, “I know there are a lot of criminals here, but they are not who you are after. The MI6 filled me in so I know what you have to do. I have a lot of information for you but you’ll have to play a little game.” He was chuckling the entire time, which I thought was a bit weird.

He knows I have no time for gambling. The only thing that would make me gamble is for the sake of the mission, I thought.

Momonga interrupted my thoughts by saying, “The FBI agent you met was actually working for Suwah Lamony, the “king” of Columbia. Also, he’s known in the underworld as Sarge Bricks. He has plans of hacking into the UN databases and stealing all sorts of secret files.”

I tried to keep my cool and responded, “I trust you have the information?”

Momonga said, “And you expect me to tell you? Remember you’re in my casino, so you have to play the game."

“Fine," I responded.

“Good now lets play Cho-Han, a traditional Japanese game. I assume you know how to play with all the undercover missions you’ve had to do recently?” asked Momonga. He then pulled out a cup and two six-sided dice. He put both on the table and concealed the dice with the cup. He then said, “Cho (Even) or Han (Odd)?”

“Cho,” I said.

"Then I will choose Han." He shook the dice and revealed the cup. The first dice I saw had a 5 and the other was 1. 5+1 = 6. Even! I smiled a bit then wiped it away from my face. “It seems I win, Momonga. Give me the intel."

“Who said if you win I will give you information?” Momonga said. He started to grin. I was about to lose my temper and preparing to attack, but he quickly added, “I already bribed the general of the Colombian army, as well as all of Suwah Lamony’s advisors and personnel. That game you did with me was just for a bit of fun. There are bigger players here than you. You wanna play chess next?”\

“Thanks, but no thanks." I quickly left the casino and I took my ATV towards Lamony’s castle for the confrontation. If the Colombian army and Lamony's personnel were on my side, this would be an easy job. It was eerily quiet during the ride over.

It was like a ghost town- houses and shops windows were closed. This war-torn town seemed to have no people left.

I sneaked into the castle via the vents and quickly located the king, who was shouting at an advisor. I dropped down prepared to arrest the king but fell into a trap. Guards surrounded me at all sides, armed with guns . The king laughed at me but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. In the corner of my eye, I saw Bricks Hamer, the supposed FBI agent, leading the charge. He's the traitor! I thought.

I tried to escape from the guards but to no avail. I was forced into a prison cell, but luckily, I had a backup plan. Earlier, I had planted some dynamite in the vents and the outside of the cells, in case I got into trouble and needed a diversion. Now was the time. I took the activator out and pressed the button.

There was a loud explosion. Then I heard screaming. The guards were supposed to keep me from escaping, but thanks to the dynamite, I was able to run away. I soon heard multiple explosions all around me as I quickly picked the lock on the jail door.

I ran outside, just before my cell caved in. I then saw more MI6 agents who received the messages I sent via the carrier birds.

I ran ahead of the other MI6 agents to where I saw Lamony last. I saw Bricks flee and tried to chase him, but to no avail. He hopped into a car and drove into the sunset.

I ran back into the areas destroyed by my dynamite. I searched the ruins and saw an unconscious Lamony. As police sirens blared, I called for agents to pick Lamony up and take him to a police truck.

We interrogated him for three days. A trial followed and Lamony was sentenced to 150 years in jail.

Bricks is up next.