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Agent Kay was holding a gun. Eggsy was holding an umbrella. The gun was big, the umbrella – not so much, but that was probably the point of field testing. Admittedly, they’d already tested the improved material on dummies, and with heavier guns too. (A dummy holding an umbrella was a sight to see.) And Eggsy was wearing enough gear to probably survive being hit by a train, but it’s the whole setup that was giving him a mild chill. You never get used to a person aiming a very big gun at you, eh? More so, you never get used to agent Kay aiming any kind of gun at you.
Agent Kay was the kind of person whose good manners were supposed to seem friendly, but somehow did the opposite. He had a broad smile, but in an unnerving way, like he had 70 teeth and was not afraid to use them in a fight once he ran out of bullets. In fact, he looked like all nature’s quiet carnivores mixed in one. Kay reminded Eggsy of a pale deep-sea fish, all bones under translucent skin, and cold blue eyes waiting for prey. Kay reminded Roxy of a viper in the grass, slow, patient and venomous every time he had to speak. You didn’t want Kay to speak. When you got on the bad side with Kay, he’d pick you apart, and then pick the rest of you from your bones. Speaking of which, his relaxed pose reminded Merlin of a slouching vulture. Whereas other agents had a look of James Bond about them, Kay was more of a bond villain.
Unlike Merlin, who enjoyed mentoring, Kay was “haunting the cellar”, as he put it, because at some point in his career someone’s lucky bullet had met his unlucky knee. Since then he sported a tiny limp, compensated by the ever-present Rainmaker he used more as a cane than a weapon. That certainly didn’t lessen the Bond villain effect.
His father’d used to be friends with the late Chester King. Kay hadn’t. Merlin wasn’t sure if that said anything about his character, given that Kay never claimed to be friends with anybody.
Other than that, Kay was the sweetest. His real name was Bertie. His dog of choice was a golden retriever.
“Aaaaalright,” he said a bit too loud, lifting the gun to his shoulder. He wore one of those military sweaters Merlin usually favoured, except Kay’s right shoulder patch was actually worn by holding rifles. He wondered when Kingsman was going to switch from glasses to contact lenses, as glasses messed with peripheral vision in combat. “Ready?”
Eggsy nodded. In a way he was willing to test the new Rainmaker, simply because it was him who’d discovered it wasn’t always bulletproof. He wanted to make sure, first hand.
“Eggsy, I can’t tell if you’re nodding there, I’ll only see your face if I shoot through your umbrella, do you want that? Reply verbally, please.”
“No, I don’t want that, and yes, I’m ready.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf as well?”
“I heard that.”
“I said I’m ready!”
“Fine,” Kay pushed his glasses up a bit and took aim, waiting patiently till the digital grid showed a red rectangle, “Three… two… o-“
The gun roared. Kay took a step back to keep his balance as the recoil hit. A second later a very loud popping sound from the collision filled the shooting gallery. Then a very loud yell.
“Fook!”
Kay squinted. That was his usual reaction to something extremely surprising or upsetting. The rainmaker held, of course, they wouldn’t test it if it couldn’t hold, so the cry of anguish was a bit out of place.
“Don’t tell me the handle broke,” Kay said with an almost-sigh.
The handle was the main problem, because it was supposed to stand the impact. And even with that, the impact could easily break your wrist if you didn’t set the end of the handle against a wall. That, or the impact just kicked you off your feet. Given that Eggsy was still standing hidden behind the Rainmaker, the latter wasn’t the case. Kay began to worry about Eggsy’s wrists.
“Is it the handle?”
“WHAT?”
He frowned. “You alright there?”
“WHAT?”
Kay put the gun down on the table and slowly, favouring one leg, walked towards the wall where Eggsy kept not-moving. At the closer inspection it turned out that the handle worked just fine. The end did make a bit of a dent in the wall, but that was fixable. Eggsy stood safely between the shielding fabric and the concrete, with enough space created by the stick.
“If you’re going to stand like that, I can ask someone to bring you food or something to read,” Kay shrugged, “I have to write a report on this whole,” he gestured a wide conductor-like circle, “testing.”
“WHAT?”
The bewildered way in which Eggsy shouted right in his face finally cleared the picture.
“Oh, for Queen’s sake, don’t tell me you didn’t think to wear ear plugs?”
Eggsy’s eyes were wide enough for Kay to tell that he’s right, and that something needs to be done. Kay wasn’t very good with children. In a way of expressing his opinion on the situation, he pulled out his own ear plugs and raised a pale blond eyebrow. Eggsy’s face fell. He assumed the same melancholic posture as Kay’s golden retriever used when the weather was bad, or no treats were allowed. It was manipulative, but it did melt a molecule or two of Kay’s icy heart.
“IT’S GONNA BE FINE!” Kay tried to reassure him, which didn’t really work. Because he wasn’t good at reassuring, and also because his voice was one of those voices that aren’t made for shouting. Reluctantly he finished the promise with a thumbs-up gesture and proceeded to regret that immediately.
“Merlin?” he flicked his glasses lightly.
“Yes, Kay?” surfaced the baritone that every kingsman could recognize.
“We have a situation here, with one of yours.”
Merlin obviously decided not to grace that with an answer.
“Look, Merlin, you have a lower voice, maybe you should talk to him, he should respond to lower frequencies better now.”
“WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?” Eggsy finally scrambled out of his umbrella castle and was circling Kay like a small yet energetic dog. Kay held out his palm in a stopping gesture.
The baritone returned. “Kay, why is Eggsy yelling at you?”
“Just get the video access.” The indicator in the corner of the grid blinked yellow. Video, connected. “Alright, so, the good news is, the new Rainmaker is working perfectly…”
“Why is it stuck in the wall?”
“It’s stuck in the wall because it works perfectly, Merlin, don’t ruin it.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“The bad news is your,” he turned to show Merlin Eggsy’s face, which was difficult because Eggsy kept moving, “your boy wonder here, decided not to wear ear plugs. In a shooting gallery.”
The sigh emitting from the other end of the line was so profound that Kay grinned with all his 70 teeth. That seemed to terrify Eggsy, which made him grin again.
“Wanna talk to him?”
“Nah. Check his ears.”
“Merlin, I’m not touching y-”
“Just check his ears.”
Rolling his eyes, Kay reached out a pale spidery hand and caught Eggsy on his (yet another) way past.
“He’s alright.”
“You sure?”
Kay leaned forward to get a closer look at Eggsy’s ear, causing a bit of thrashing panic.
“Well, he’s not bleeding or anything, so I say it’s temporary. IS IT RINGING?” he addressed the boy.
“KAY! He may be deaf but I’m NOT,” yelled back at him from the earpiece.
“Oh, sorry. Is it ringing?”
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU, IT’S RINGING IN MY EARS,” Eggsy seemed to come to terms with the situation and busied himself pulling the Rainmaker’s handle out of the wall.
“Ok, it’s ringing. He’s ok, it’ll pass. Look at him, he’s even doing something useful. It’s adorable. I’ll send him to you after he’s done. Anyway, I was saying…”
Eggsy finally pulled the metal rod out of the wall and stumbled back, barely keeping his balance. Evidently satisfied, the video transmission indicator blinked and disappeared.
“…I was saying, the new Rainmaker works perfectly, yer a wizard, Merlin.”
Merlin let out a content little snort.
“I’ll type you up a report, and then the tests for- Oh, by the way, how’s the medical lab?”
“What about it?” by the tone in which Merlin asked the question it was easy to tell that he knew exactly what about it.
“Tissue repair?”
“Uh, it moved in the priorities again, they got stuck with neurotoxins for now.”
With a gesture Kay ushered Eggsy towards the door and followed himself, clicking the Rainmaker on the tiles, through the corridors, turn left, left, then right, then left. “I don’t see how synthetic tissue repair is a lower priority than neurotoxins. You can’t attack your enemy if you have no agents.” Left, right, right. “Say, if Eggsy actually damaged his ears, or, I don’t know, someone got shot in the face-“
“Don’t you dare.” Left, down the corridor, right, more steps.
“Tissue repair, Merlin. Make it happen.”
Kay opened a door and hovered in the doorway, letting Eggsy walk into the room. Merlin was sitting at the countless monitors, his back to them, too absorbed with numbers and graphs to notice the presence.
“Delivery,” Kay said quietly.
Merlin almost jumped in his chair. It’s the quiet and calm in Kay’s tone that always made his skin crawl. His spidery manner of sneaking up on you, despite his injury, as if he could turn it on and off. He was sure Kay didn’t do that on purpose, but still Merlin was afraid that by the end of his life he’d start hallucinating Kay in dark alleys and shadowy rooms.
“HELLO, MERLIN!” Eggsy exclaimed, breaking the pause.
“I’ll deal with him,” Merlin said to Kay, realizing that talking to Eggsy is useless, “and stop nagging.”
“Get me the tissue repair, and I’ll stop nagging,” shrugged Kay innocently and tapped the floor with the pointy end of the umbrella.
“It costs.”
“Keeping an extra training supervisor costs as well. You don’t need me here.”
“I sure don’t,” Merlin’s eyes flicked to Eggsy and back, “if these are your training results.”
“These,” Kay pointed, “are your training results. It’s not my fault you didn’t teach him the basics. Meanwhile you’re low on field agents. How many are active now?”
“Enough.”
“Uh-huh. You need me in the field, Merlin. I’m like a sheep dog locked in a room, come on, I’m going bonkers here. You know that.”
For a while they just stared at each other, before Kay suddenly smiled his dragonfish smile. “Anyway, I’m off to get that report, and then the explosives test, should be done in a day or so.”
“Right.”
The door closed and Merlin breathed out heavily right before something tapped the glass on the outside. “Tissue repair!” a quiet voice went in a sweetened up tone, followed by sounds of steps and clicking of the umbrella. Tap, click-tap, tap, click-tap.
Merlin stared at the door, as if expecting it to fly open. Then shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?” yelled Eggsy gently, and Merlin finally smiled.
“What an idiot.”
“WHAT?”
“You’re an id- ah, forget it.”