Removing the Wool

Nojovski blinked. His eyes were barely aware of moving shapes around him. Busy bodies of colour rushing past him, blurring into a mist. A buzzing noise hurt his head. The colours became more focused, and the outline of his steering wheel became recognisable. He looked at his watch. 6am. Shift change. The buzzing noise wasn’t going away, and he looked over to the passenger seat to see his cell phone ringing.

"Hello?"

"It’s Hilary. The rain has delayed the next shift. You’ve got 7 minutes, Dimitri. Get in, get out, and if you get caught, I’d better not hear about it."

Nojovski flung his phone back onto the seat and grabbed his gun from the glove compartment. The rain was lashing down outside, and the colours, which he now could see as very wet people, we starting to thin out. It’s not that nobody would see him go into the building, it’s that nobody would care. And when you don’t care, you don’t remember.

Across the hallway from the main door, a security guard eyed him sleepily. Nojovski walked stiffly over to the desk and sneezed.

"Bless you".

Nojovski nodded. "I’m here to see Tony Krieg".

The security guard looked puzzled, and turned to check his phone book.

"I don’t, uh, recall there being a Mr Krieg working in the building…" he said as he aimlessly pawed through the book.

A glint of light bounced off the silver object Dimitri pulled from his jacket, causing the guard to look up suspiciously.

"Perhaps if I write the name down? You may be spelling it incorrectly?" Nojovski said, waving his pen.

"No, no, let me check the mainframe. He may be a contractor".

Dimitri took his opportunity to pour a tiny amount of sedative into the guard’s coffee whilst he rummaged around under his desk, using his hastily modified pen.

"Why don’t you put out a call on the tannoy, and I’ll take a seat over there?"

The guard nodded, and put out a futile call for Mr Tony Krieg to contact reception. He shrugged sheepishly, and took a swig of his coffee. Nojovski checked his watch, silently counted down from 3.

Nojovski brushed his coat down.

2.

A yawn from the guard.

1.

A puzzled look spread slowly over the guard’s face.

0.

The guard’s head slumped onto the open phone book.

Nojovski walked steadily over to the desk, and, checking the guard was still breathing, dragged him into the nearby cleaning closet. The scribbled "Family emergency – back soon" onto a piece of paper, and left it propped up on the desk. He checked the phone book for "Maintenance", and headed for the stairs.

**

"What do you mean you’re unsure of his location? He’s supposed to be under 24 hr observation by a minimum of 4 men!" Yekov snapped angrily.

"Alexander, Nojovski is your agent. We agreed to keep an eye on him only as a favour to you. If you can’t keep him under control, we can’t be blamed." McAndrew replied calmly.

"Technically, he’s not our agent. He’s been out of the loop for over 6 months, and that makes him a rogue spear. Dammit, I haven’t talked to the man in nearly a year!"

"Look, the last time our guys had him, he was coming out of a bar heading towards a run down hotel. He’s washed up. You know he hasn’t been the same since his wife died. And god knows what the Columbians did to him. One of these days he’s going to get hit by a bus. Let’s just let that happen and stay out of it."

"This is a man’s life we’re talking about, a man who used to be one of my best agents!"

"Used to Alex, used to.