Chapter Text
Agents 86 and 99 Agents 14 and 17
Scott Moir bounced on the balls of his feet with excitement. It was his first day as a greeting card salesman. At least that was the cover story. After a grueling selection process, he had been accepted into working for CONTROL, a secret organization with headquarters in Toronto. He was a spy and he intended to be a good one.
He stood in the blandly decorated office waiting for instructions for his first case. The Chief entered and he almost snapped to attention. The Chief was a thin man, in his forties, with a head of wild dark brown curls. He wore a grey suit. He sat down at his desk, shuffling a few papers around and opening the safe beneath the desk that held top secret dossiers regarding current and upcoming assignments.
“Agent 14,” said the Chief, inclining his head to Scott. “Ready for your first case?”
“Yes sir!” said Scott.
“Good, sit down,” said the Chief.
Scott sat and waited for instructions, ready to take notes.
“You won’t be needing that,” said the Chief, glancing at his notebook.
Scot glanced down at it, hurriedly putting it away.
“No sir,” he agreed.
The Chief started speaking, telling him about missing parts of a top secret prototype jet. The parts were going missing from the facility building the jet and no one had been able to work out why…or where the parts were being taken.
“Am I going undercover sir?” asked Scott, having nodded his understanding.
“We will get you in undercover, yes. You’ll act as a maintenance worker, but don’t worry, you won’t need to actually do any maintenance. It just means you’ll have access to areas for staff only and be able to look around. Make sure you’re discrete. I’ll be assigning you a partner for this assignment also,” said the Chief.
“I work best alone, sir,” said Scott immediately.
“You will work with Agent 17, I am sure you can work well together,” said the Chief, effectively dismissing his comment.
Scott tried not to speak again, not wanting to be difficult on his first day. He didn’t want a partner but if he had to have one, he was willing to try.
“Will I meet Agent 17?” asked Scott, as he was dismissed with instructions to drive to the facility and present for work the next morning.
“Agent 17 will meet you there,” said the Chief.
“Yes sir!” said Scott.
He turned and left the office, adjusting his suit. He wanted to look professional on his first day so he wore a tailored black suit, white shirt and a black tie. His broad shoulders filled out the suit jacket nicely and his new shoes clicked across the floor towards his small office.
There was barely anyone around, CONTROL Headquarters rather quiet on this Monday afternoon. Larrabee sat at his desk in the outer office typing away on his keyboard and several secretaries sat at their desks, sending appreciative looks at Scott as he walked past.
His hazel eyes hardly noticed them, so intent was he on ensuring he did well on his first case. He was looking down at the dossier he had been given, finding a detailed layout of the facility, and he was keen to get back to his office to study it.
The next morning, he drove to the facility, had his ID checked (a fake ID of course). He was Bill Smith while he was there. Having hired CONTROL to investigate, only the most senior management of the facility knew his identity.
Scott changed into a maintenance uniform, the blue uniform reminding him of a mechanic's clothing. He had a look around, pretending to inspect a plane while he surreptitiously watched what was going on around him. He took note of which workers were in the vicinity and what their roles seemed to be. The prototype was kept in a high security area and Scott’s pass had been modified so that he could access it. He couldn’t just go in there though, he needed to bide his time and wait for the opportunity to present itself. If it didn’t, he planned to sneak in at night.
He spent the morning looking around, learning a bit about the staff, building profiles of each in his head. He was startled when a female voice spoke behind him, giving the secret code that agents used between themselves.
“When the moon is full, the tide is high."
That was a woman speaking, he certainly hadn't expected that. He'd expected an older male agent, not what sounded like a young woman.
“When the moon is full, the tide is high," said the voice again, clearly impatient with his lack of response.
He turned to see a petite woman with her dark hair in a bun. She wore a maintenance outfit too and had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. He gaped at her for a moment, he wondered how a gorgeous woman like that would choose to be an agent and finally managed to make his mouth form words.
“Uh…when the moon is full, the tide is high,” he repeated.
She nodded, appraising him with inquisitive eyes. “Agent 14?” she asked.
He nodded. “Agent 17?” he checked.
She nodded, pretending to look at his clipboard regarding the maintenance of the plane. He said nothing, handing it over to her and then pulled out an Ipad and powered it up. He loaded the maintenance logs and started scrolling, looking for anything that may stand out.
She stayed silent, wandering around the plane, comparing it with the sketches she’d seen of the prototype.
“What’s your name?” asked Scott quietly as she returned to his side.
“It’s Tessa. You?” asked Tessa.
“Scott,” he said.
“It’s great to meet you, Scott,” said Tessa, her eyes on his making him barely able to focus.
“You too,” he said.
“Let’s get to work,” said Tessa. She picked up a screwdriver and started opening a panel underneath the plane.
“You know how to do that?” asked Scott, his eyebrows raised.
“I know a lot of things,” replied Tessa, her eyes fixed on the panel she’d opened.
Scott tried not to stare, growing more curious about her. She was nothing he’d expected from a secret agent. She was gorgeous enough to be a model and he could tell she had an amazing body, even if it was hidden beneath the maintenance uniform she wore. He must have been staring too long because she gave him a curious look.
“Oh uh…I think we need to plan how to get into the high security area without raising suspicions from the workers,” he said, hoping she would buy it.
Her eyes appraised him, clearly not quite believing him but she closed the cover she’d opened, carefully replacing all the screws and then started filing out a maintenance sheet.
“What are you doing?” asked Scott, bewildered.
“I touched the plane, I need to write it down on the maintenance sheet so they know that this panel has been opened and the screws replaced,” said Tessa, as if it was obvious.
“Right, okay,” said Scott.
“Okay, I’m done. Let’s go this way,” said Tessa, pointing to the door on the back wall.