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It was rare for the MI6 to specifically call in the CIA for help in a mission. However, they were struggling and had found them self in a corner. So, they had called in the CIA. Curt being the CIA’s top Agent was the one sent.
The mission was supposed to be fairly simple. The key word being fairly. It was a clean up of a previous mission that had went less than ideal.
Owen for a lack of better words had fucked up. He had fucked up really bad. He had pulled a Curt.
Actually, no it wasn’t even a Curt. At least Curt has some form of being able to stop or people saw him and went Oh, it’s this jackass. Owen did not come with that pre warning.
The incident that bad happens we had alcohol involved. Raised voices and terrible accents. The less mentioned about the incident the better.
Now, Curt wasn’t exactly giving the entire details. However, he did know that Owen has messed up and acted a tad like him. Currently standing in the lavish hotel room he fiddled with his bow tie. Owen walked in dressed in his nines. Wearing a black almost blue suit that had Curt smirking. Owen looked good. The older agent pressed his body up close to Curt’s and leaned downwards.
“Ready love?”
“Of course, are you? Do you think they remover you?” Curt queried to the other. Owen cringed slightly.
“I sure hope not after what I did the last time I was here.”
“What, exactly did you do?”
“You’ll find out.”
“Owen.” Mutters Curt. For once in his life actually understanding why other people got frustrated with him.