Issues Under Fire: Doobie Dognaps President's Pooch, Slacker on Rescue Mission
I know this will sound fantastic, but you gotta believe me this time. Me and my crew were loading up at our favorite watering hole on the Upper West-Side of Manhattan last night, when I spotted Agent 000 sitting in the darkest corner of the bar and he wasn't alone. This time, he sat at a table with one hell of a gruesome twosome.
As you may recall, last week I'd met and interviewed the CIA interrogator and when we parted company that evening, I was hoping we'd never meet again. This was a dark man with a dark past, present and future and I didn't want to know anything more about him. No such luck.
Agent 000 saw me see him and motioned for me to join him and his "company". As I approached the table, the lighting seem to dim ever so slightly with every step I took. Hello agent 000, interrogate anyone interesting lately I asked. Funny you should bring that up, because come to think of it, you look pretty interesting right now he says. Your card fell from your wallet when we met and I was curious about your blog, he said. Did you get a chance to read our disclaimer I asked? That's when agent Brawny Brawn spoke.
You're quite a character Mr. Guy, but perhaps you should let agent 000 ask the question for now, he says. No problem, but you needn't be so formal, you can just call me Cool. By the way, does your friend talk I asked (referring to brute number two) Agent Muscle Mass only speaks when he's happy and he's never happy said agent Brawn. Bartender, I scream over the clatter, get this man a triple of the best shit you got. Its on me!
That wont be necessary "Mr. Cool Guy", we don't drink on the job. So, I asked, is this meeting we're having official? He's smarter than he looks growled agent Mass. Lets go he says. Where? I asked as calmly and coolly as possible. We got a spot where there's not so much clatter said agent 000.
Rising from the table, agents Mass and Brawn took up positions behind me as agent 000 led the way. Passing my crew on the way out the bar, the cowardly bastards looked in every direction but mine. (Note to self: Fire those S.O.B's if I get out this alive.)
When we got to the curb, a black suburban was waiting with the doors open and I was gently assisted inside. Flanked on both sides by the two behemoths, I sat back and tried to appear relaxed. As the big black SUV pulled away from the curb, I noticed we we're following another and being followed by a third.
Even partially inebriated, I could see this was serious and I needed to start thinking up a good story. The only problem was, I hadn't heard the questions yet and I wasn't looking forward to how they'd be asked. With security lights flashing, the convoy headed north for a mile or two and then onto the George Washington Bridge. OMG, not New Jersey, the torture has already started I mused.
Before I could even start sweating the vehicles came to a stop in the darkened parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned motel. Whisked quickly into an opened door, I was greeted by President Obama himself. Seated beside him, was his wife Michelle and his two lovely daughters.
I said hello Mr. President how can I be of service? I couldn't think of anything else to say. While the president remained silent, the First Lady told me the First Dog had been kidnapped by my dog, Doobie, the first radicalized Yorkie to join and eventually lead ISIS/ISIL. No way I say! Yes way she says and we need your help!
As you may recall, several weeks ago, Doobie aka Mohammed al-Doobie Ali snuck out of the country and went on a killing spree outside of Damascus. I thought the authorities were keeping an eye on his movements but apparently Doobie gave them the slip and returned to the states undetected. Word is, Doobie breached secret service security at the White House and put the snatch on Sunny, the president's pooch.
According to agent 000, he was put in charge of recovering Sunny because the Secret Service couldn't be trusted. Agent Mass said Sunny had to be rescued ASAP, because Doobie was threatening to sexually assault Sunny if his demands weren't met. Well, what the hell does Doobie want I asked. He wants you agent Braun said. He wants you!
No way I say, in case you haven't noticed, Doobie is nutz and besides I don't have a clue as to where he is or how to find him. Don't worry says agent 000, he instructed you to take a flight to Istanbul tonight. You'll be met by a crew of his operatives and taken to a secure location. Once Doobie is certain you're in his people's custody, Sunny will be released unharmed. That's the deal.
Well you can count me out because this sounds a lot like work and dangerous work at that. Don't my Slacker's profile say I don't work on Fridays? That's when I saw the younger of the two daughters shed a tear. I could feel my heart softening.
I've always been a sucker for a good sob story, but I've always been a Slacker too, so I was quite conflicted. What time is my flight I asked. In an hour says agent 000 and don't worry, we've already packed your bags. When I inquired as to my chances of returning alive, everyone looked in every direction but mine. (Note to self: Stop drinking so much.)
So, you can see why I won't be in today and most likely, I'll need more than a three-day weekend to complete this mission. Hence, Issues Under Fire will be on hiatus until further notice.
BTW, as per usual, we left another cool episode of Rocky Jordan entitled " Death in the Sand" for your pleasure. Enjoy and share.
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