Agent Blue Ii: Corporate Thug

By Guy Richie

She read out what Agent Blue was viewing. "Switzerland. The Carlton Saint Moritz. In 1913, the Russian Tsar Nicolas II, grandson of the legandary Tsar Alexander II, and hier to the infamous Romanoff Dynasty. Orderd the unique Carlton Hotel; to be built as his summer residence, and it quickly developed into the 5th of St Moritz's grand five_star hotels. This luxury hotel has remained one of the leading hotels in the resort."
Zahra paused, and took a short breath.
"Are you planning a skiing holiday Richie?"
Richie turned to Zahra, and asked "How are you with a snow board?"
Zahra seemed distracted by the question. "Well yes. I am a proficient skier! But a snow board Richie why are you enquiring?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491888865

Guy Richie

Guy Richie was born in Nottingham in 1964 and now lives near Glasgow. Embracing retrospective fiction combining reverence in rhetorical journalism. Generating fundamental scrutiny that provides a stream for today’s proactive entertainment.

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© 2014 by Guy Richie. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/27/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4918-8884-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-8885-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-8886-5 (e)

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A gent blue had taken seat 35G, economy class. Not quite the 1 st class he was used to, but ample under the circumstances. Richie looked down through the cloud and out over the Atlantic; Then turned his attention to the monitor studied the information set in the headrest’s at the rear of every seat. Distance to New York, 2199 miles. Altitude 11277 metres. Time flying 3hrs 20 minutes. ETA 6.35 pm. New York time. Ground speed, 621 mph. Air temperature, outside atmosphere minus 63 degrees Celsius. The aircraft was experiencing some heavy turbulence. As the commercial aircraft shook. Richie’s life seemed to flash before his eye’s. His mind turned back in time.

The Blue’s, and Royals, where on high security alert, whilst on parade for the annual Trooping the Colour. Troop ready for inspection sir. Richie sat at attention, his right hand grasping his regimental sword, and returned the salute to his captain. Major Richie Alsop turned his horse, and proceeded with the duty of inspecting his troop before handing them over to the Major General. To the right of him placed in all there glory. The Life Guards sat on there horses in anticipation. The order was given, and the array of Guards came to attention. Polish cracked from the seams of there highly bulled boots, as there right leg crunched to the floor in unison. He could hear the Welsh Guards closest to his troop, coming to attention after the order shoulder arms was shouted, bringing there SA 80’s to the shoulder, all looking blazing in there Bearskins, and red tunics. The Household cavalry; shone, and glinted in the bright sunshine, there breast armour, and head gear highly polished, horses groomed, and on there best behaviour. The senior drum major gave the command, as the mass band lead at the front by four other drum majors, took centre stage, there instruments sounded up.

Richie smiled, his attentions turned back to events taking place on the aircraft. The turbulence had subsided; an attractive blonde air stewardess approached his seating row. She spoke with a Texan accent. Could I interest you in a beverage sir? We also have a good selection of snacks available! Agent Blue nodded. Yes; can you kindly provide me with a Gin, and Tonic, with ice, and a slice of lemon? The air stewardess nodded, returning with his order. Later the flight arrived at JFK. Richie departed the aircraft, whilst thanking the cabin crew before departing, and then passing the state line. Zahra stood in anticipation her face beaming with delight. The two agents met, using the V.I.P treatment, via the black limo, and re checked into The Plazza under there AKA name, Mr and Mrs Cartland.

The next morning Agent blue in his white bathrobe appeared from the wet room, an empty bottle of grand Annie lay in its silver drinks chillier, along side two empty Champaign glasses.

Zahra; sat at the dressing table with a white towel wrapped around her hair, and wearing a matching bath robe, spraying her neck from an art deco perfume dispenser, and then placed it back, picking up an eye liner pencil, and leaned in close to the mirror.

Zahra Good morning Richie; First I need you to go over to the body shop, and pick up the Porsche you wrecked, and take it back to its owner. The details are on the table on the drinks chillier.

Agent blue walked to the chillier finding the note attached, and read it.

But Darling! I’m on vacation.

Zahra grinned whilst penciling in her eye,

Its only fair Richie; at least give the poor guy his repaired car back, and show him you are truly sorry about the damage. Please; please do it, and be sincere. Once that is done, you ring me ok.

Richie smiled Ok, I’ll do it the first thing this morning.

Later using his iPhone route finder. Agent blue made his way through the New York metro, then arrived via a taxi at the body shop, where the head mechanic stood wiping his hands

Mechanic You’ll be the guy that’s come for the Porsche?

Richie spoke in his native Queens English.

Yes, I would be the fellow assigned to the task!

The mechanic calling over his work mates.

Hey the guy from the car chase on TV. That’s him!

He pointed at Richie.

The guys surrounded Agent blue, wanting to shake his hand. The first guy stepping forward A street value of two and a half million dollars, taken off the streets.

The next mechanic stepping in, again taking Agent Blue by the hand.

Man you’re a real live public hero, we totally rebuilt the Porsche, and tweaked her a little, she’s as good as new!

Agent blue walked over to the Porsche and studied the highly polished quality of workmanship.

You people have done an immaculate job on the repairs; and overhaul. She really does look dazzling!

Richie signed for the car in the name of Mr. R Cartland, then giving the head Mechanic back his clip board; and pen, bid the workers at the garage a good day.

Having been given the keys, and took possession of the car.

Agent blue proceeded along the boulevards to the home of the Porches owner; pulling into an open plan landscaped estate, and onto the driveway of the address, listed on Zahra’s note. Richie got out of the car; and walked on up to the front door, pressing the door bell. A young teenager answered the door, whilst looking on the drive, he shouted through to his father.

Hey dad, the cars back.

Be right there son.

The boy’s father appeared at the door with his wife.

Hey you’re the guy that.

He nudged his wife.

That’s the guy I was telling you about, the agent with the English accent!

The family emerged from the house walked onto