I ran as fast as my legs could carry me seven enemy agents in hot pursuit. I had spent a great deal of time preparing for this moment. I had practiced self-defense. I had studied how to remain calm under pressure. I had read everything I could find on mortal combat. And I had hoped that when the time came and I found myself in the thick of battle I would be able to handle myself with cool, spy-like aplomb.

Instead I was screaming.

Thankfully it wasn’t a girly shriek. It was more of a sustained “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Which could be roughly translated as: “I am in serious trouble. Someone please help me.

It’s one thing to study action sequences. It’s a whole other thing to find yourself in the middle of one. I dodged through piles of dirt and debris, aware the agents were gaining on me. They were all screaming too, although this was more of a war cry. Translation: “Once we catch you, you’re dead meat.” I was dressed for combat, clad head to toe in camouflage gear, but it obviously wasn’t working because the enemy could see me perfectly well. Sniper fire whistled past me. Something screeched through the air above and exploded in the distance. Not far ahead a foxhole came into view. To most people it would have looked like a big grubby hole but to me it was beautiful. I shouted into my radio headset. “Erica I’m coming in hot.” “Okay,” Erica replied calmly. “I’m ready.” She didn’t sound like she was in the heat of the battle. Instead she sounded bizarrely relaxed as though she was lounging on a hammock at a beach resort. I leapt into the foxhole. It was four feet deep. Erica Hale sat inside leaning on the dirt wall casually leafing through a Guns and Ammo magazine despite all the chaos around her. Like me she was wearing camouflage gear but she somehow looked stylish in hers. Then again Erica would have looked stylish in a potato sack.

Logan

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