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This yet another segment of one of my stories, hope you enjoy!

When the two gentlemen entered through the revolving door, Beans didn’t panic, about three hundred men walked in and out every day. It was just clear that these men where immensely rich. One of the men, wearing a rather violent tweed suit walked up to Beans and began to speak to him through the blast-proof glass surrounding the receptionist. It was the worst distraction that Tobias had ever seen but yet, it worked. Troy started talking about the receptionists weight and the reason for his nickname being beans, and nothing supped up Beans more than a comment about his size and eating habits. He came storming out of the small-padlocked door at the side of his little safety prison, fists waving steel-toe-capped boats flailing.
Troy was not happy with this operation annoying a big fello’ like this guy, unarmed did not appeal to his better judge and all just for a simple ride up the building. Why couldn’t they just climb the cables inside the lift shaft? It would make getting this chap out the way a lot easier, a sharp kick in the nether-regions and he’d out for at least two hours. Although maybe climbing a lift shaft with this madman might not be such a good idea. Troy had always had bad feelings about the SAS in many ways he despised them. Their idea of breaking and entering and beating the living daylights out of anyone inside, he thought, was rather unprofessional.
“Toby will please hurry up, our friend here is not a happy bunny right now! And will you please not take to long with this whole assassination thingy. Because if this all goes tits-up, which it will, I do not want to deal with this guy awake and ready for action again when we come down!” Toby mean while had been doing his best, using his laptop which was concealed in his suitcase, and the few four digit codes another receptionist had kindly ‘agreed’ to vow safe to him, to try and over-ride the elevator system.
“I’m almost there just keep fatty occupied over there.” Beans, as soon as he’d realised he’d just been insulted, started storming over to Toby, semi-automatic pistol raised.
“Oh shove off will you mate!” Exclaimed Tobias, and without standing up or even taking his eyes off the laptop screen, his arm came round slowly and shot two rounds into Beans’ thigh.
“Ah, now that should keep out the way for a while,” he finished rearranging some fibre optics inside the control panel on the lift door,
“There we go all done. See later tubs my man!” Tobias and Troy entered the lift and made their way up to the fifty-ninth floor the one before the roof, so as to not look suspicious to anyone else monitoring them in the building. When they reached the office Roy disposed of the man sitting at the office desk with quick, simple three finger jab two the throat. No noise made. They rid themselves of the body simply by throwing it out of one of the windows into the small river fifty-nine floors below. Then they got to it. Their MOE to the roof would be, climb out of the window and using the flagpole jutting out of the wall and the drainpipes, climb up the side of the building and onto the top. Simple, for a professional.

Troy was beginning to get bored, the sun was hot, he was sweaty, sticky, uncomfortable and, he had to admit, slightly worried. He’d had five years with MI5 and three so far with MI6, but he had never been sent on an assassination mission before. The big worry was that up here at the top of a sixty-storey building, they were like sitting ducks. They were lying still and silent but Troy’s mind was still working over time, when suddenly the worst possible thing happened and Troy got an over powering feeling of deja vu. He really lost it when suddenly the unmistakable roar of a helicopter engine could be heard behind them. Jones and Troy looked around and their eyes widened in disbelief. The very reason they were there was hovering just fifty metres behind and twenty metres above them. A white MD500N helicopter was watching them and side-door was open. For once in his life, Tobias Jones had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Stand to! Stand to!” He cried to Troy, but that was all he could think of to do. He was stunned, and this was the last thing he had expected. Out of the side-door of the aircraft he could see the protruding end of a 12.7mm Anti-Material Sniper Rifle, it was ready to be used and it was aiming at poor old Troy’s head. There was nothing Tobias could do; he could hear Troy screaming,
“Toby what the hell do we do now?” But still Tobias was motionless, paralysed by shock. There was one thing he was certain of though, the man smiling coldly over the top of that rifle knew they shouldn’t be there. Toby knew that what ever happened now, MI6 agent Troy was most certainly going to die. So he wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight! He grabbed the beautiful black leather suitcase and opened the lock; he then took out the two pieces of the G3 SG1 Sniper and quickly made ready his weapon with the rounds around his waist. He quickly and expertly slipped the mag into the mag housing, listening for the reassuring click as it slotted into place. But no click was to reassuring in this situation.

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The following comments are for "Agent Jones Series - Southern Death"
by DoubleTake

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