To Sunlit Isles (The Never-Ending Circus, Book 1)

Chapter Eight

Jones stood in front of his employers desk, an imposing piece of furniture. It was a dark mahogany, with Celtic designs etched in gold inlaid all around it. The giant of a man behind the desk sat with his hands clasped, elbows on the desk. He leaned forward, eyes screaming bloody murder at the failure of an agent standing before him.

"You were tasked with one job, Jones. Just one job." He said through a thick Scottish accent. "How many years have you been with us? Ten? Thirteen?"

Jones cleared his throat. "Twelve, actually. Sir."

"Twelve years working with the best of the best. And you couldn't accomplish this one simple task." The man sighed, then took a deep breath and bellowed at Jones. "You had one bloody job Jones! What on earth is wrong with you?"

Somehow, the accent made it sting more, Jones thought to himself. "My apologies sir. The target-" Jones' employer held up his hand to stop Jones from pleading his case.

"Don't say nothing about the target. Your job was to bring me evidence. don't kill anyone, don't draw attention to yourself. Just bring me evidence that we could use to put Regaldi away for good. And what did you do?"

Jones wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer. "Um, I lost the evidence?"

"You didn't just lose the evidence!" His employer said, once again losing his temper. "You unleashed an ancient evil upon the world. Bloody hell, Jones! You had one job!"

"My apologies, sir. I had no idea there was anything that dangerous in the box." A bead of sweat rolled down Jones' forehead as he tried to plead his case. "I thought it might be a family heirloom or something of great value. I had to try anything to gain the advantage."

"Felt cute, did ya? So you decided to destroy his personal property, see what happens?" The hulking Scotsman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed by the situation. "Leonardo Regaldi is a powerful man, Alonzo. He is not to be trifled with. Any you, instead of avoiding him you deliberately toy with him by smashing something of prodigious importance to him. Are you trying to get on his bad side? For goodness sake man, it's hard enough keeping tabs on him without bumbling idiots smashing his belongings to pieces!"

The director was right. Jones had failed the mission. The mission that he had been training his whole career for.

The director spat out a curse and threw up his hands. "Bah! Never mind all that now. You've had enough punishment for one day." Jones' employer took another glance at the agent's arm in a sling, shattered from his fall. "What's the status of this vile beasty that you so cleverly decided to set free?"

Jones stood up a bit straighter, assuming the stance he had taken so often when reporting his mission summaries to the director. "Sir, the smoke was neutralized. Regaldi or one of his colleagues seemed to have taken care of it, sir."

The Director's face turned into a snarl. "So you're telling me, you don't know what it was, and you don't know who stopped it or what happened."

"Yes sir."

"And what happened to the two witnesses you say saw the whole thing?"

"I believe they're still with Regaldi, sir. Though I'm not sure."

The director rubbed his forehead. "You don't know anything about the smoke. You lost all the evidence, and now you're telling me we have two more witnesses to your massive screwup?"

Jones tried to maintain his composure. "Yes, sir."

"So now we have three witnesses, along with a trail Regaldi can follow right back to us if he so chooses. Anything else I'm missing Jones? Anymore PR disasters I need to be aware of?" The acidic sarcasm in his voice stung.