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534 word, strange story OPERATION WAITROSE
I wrote this story after a friend challenge me to make somthing of her rather bizaree dream. Heres the result!
Her golden locks cascaded gently upon her shoulders, framing her freckled face as she reached out for two cans of ‘Heinz Original Beans’. But purchasing pulses was not the real reason she was here. Jenny, a.k.a ‘Hawk’ was a junior MI5 agent working undercover as part of a covert assination operation. The beans clanked heavily as they hit the bottom of the trolley.
At that moment, a man entered the supermarket. He bypassed the small child screaming, “OPEN SESAME!” at the automatic doors. He sidestepped the clown with big shoes parading up and down and generally getting in the way. He headed straight for the fish counter.
It was not a busy day in Waitrose, Sunday mornings never were. No-one noticed The Man From MI5 and no-one even considered Hawk was anything but a normal shopper. After all, secret agents don’t eat ‘Heinz Original Beans’ do they? Did they even eat at all? The people at Waitrose didn’t know and they didn’t particularly care. They just wanted to get the chicken home in time for Sunday roast.
Hawk gave the signal, carefully selecting the juicy green Granny-Smith apple instead of the shiny red Braburn on the top shelf which told The Man From MI5 all he needed to know. The operation was good to go. The subject was at home.
His name was John Cavatti, a notorious Italian gangster involved in all kinds of criminal activities up and down the country. Hawk had recently discovered a massive quantity of drugs in Cavatti's apartment above the Waitrose store in which she now stood, watching The Man From MI5 as he approached the fish counter. The Fishman saw him, smiled to himself and discreetly replaced the eight and three-quarter pound salmon he was weighing before hanging up his apron. It was time.
Hawk was just passing the broccoli as The Man From MI5 slipped casually through a back door that led to Cavatti's apartment. Then, the dull illusion of slow motion Sunday morning shopping was shattered as a loud CRACK tore through the supermarket lanes.
The back door was blown of it’s hinges and sent skimming across the polished floor like a hockey puck, finally crashing into the yoghurts in isle ten. For a moment everything went silent apart from the oddly pleasant supermarket tune quietly dispersing from the tannoy system.
There wasn’t meant to be an explosion. Yes, The Man From MI5 was supposed to assinate Cavatti, but quietly. Something had gone terribly wrong and Hawk knew the mission had been compromised. She ran, leaving her beans. She knocked over the ‘buy one get one free crumpets’ stand as she went, finally leaping over the fish counter and shoulder barging her way through the back door.
She was in a back alley that ran behind the supermarket. Looking up she could see the black scorch marks covering the red brick wall around the window to Cavatti's apartment. The place must have been booby trapped. The Man From MI5 was no-where to be seen.
Suddenly the dark alleyway was filled with a brilliant light as a white van hurtled towards her, finally screeching and skidding towards her as the brakes were thrust on. The back doors were flung open and before she could react she saw two arms reach out from the black interior and pull her in. The doors slammed shut.
A match flared sending light and shadows flickering and dancing across the walls. A sharp whiff of salmon slipped past her nose. “Hello Jenny,” whispered a deep grinding voice, “Were going on a little journey.“
Edited to remove annoying capitals
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