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Agent Colt: Classified Pride

By WiccidWriter All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Drama

Blurb

A secret agent living a secret life. Latesse Colt is a super spy with a gold track record, a womanizing pig for a partner, and a secret she had never told anyone until a wine filled conversation aboard a plane with a complete stranger named Vaneesa. When Vaneesa turns out to be the newest member of her team, Tess is afraid her secret won’t stay that way for very long. At their new home base in Italy, Tess is put on the lead of their newest case, and she finds that working with Vaneesa both thrills her and terrifies her. And gives her the strength to shed her tough skin, finally facing her fears of coming out. But once she is no longer afraid of her own secret, she finds she hasn't been the only one hiding.

Chapter 1

“Oh, shut up,” I snapped as I dug my heel a little further into the back of the guy’s neck. He squeaked in protest as his air passages constricted. But I made sure he could still breathe, at least a little bit, before I grabbed my phone from my handbag to see why it buzzed.

Where you at?

Last door down the hall.

“Jeezus Tess, you got ’im all tied up ‘n everythin’ already! How do ya do that?” Gannon exclaimed a minute later as he walked into the garishly decorated bedroom.

“Try to keep up next time and you’ll see,” I teased.

“In here boys.” He yelled down the hall, then yanked the overweight and balding man from the floor by his paracord tied wrists, standing him on unsteady feet. “Don’t ya move a muscle mon, or I put ya back on the floor.”

The man looked over at me, eyes narrowed in hate and anger, then flicked back to the large Jamaican man who had a hold of him. He clearly wanted to say something, but just the effort of breathing had left him gasping.

“I think he was enjoying the cold floor tile up until my heel was in his throat.” I put my phone back in my purse and walked past Gannon and the weapons dealer we had just taken down, Frankie the Flirt he was called. Well, I had been the one to take him down and tie him up, but Gannon had been my partner in this mission and had been an invaluable help getting me in the house. Gannon was a beautiful man, just not my type. Women flocked to him, and he got invited to every party around.

“Oh, and by the way, maybe button up your fly, Frankie? No one here wants to see that.” Then I turned and walked out of the room, down the hall and out of the lavish summer house Frankie had bought with his arms money, hearing “good job, Tess” from several agents on the way.

My phone buzzed again as I climbed out of the black Jeep that had brought me to the café that was to be mine and Gannon’s rendezvous point. The agent who drove me here sped back off towards the crime scene.

Good job Agent Colt. Debrief will be back at home base. Have a safe flight.

Thank you, Colonel. I replied.

I knew my handler, Colonel Shelley King, hadn’t been on the island when we arrived. It looks like she stayed on base in the States. Odd not to have her nearby, but we had worked this one just fine without her. I had been with Colonel King in command the longest, several years now. It was all starting to be too comfortable, too familiar, and that meant it was probably about to change.

My name is Latesse Colt. For now. I’ve been known by several different aliases over the last eleven years. But this one has been with me since before I started with Colonel King. I’ve been waiting for that call to come down from the top to move my team and me elsewhere. It hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it was about to. I’d find out tomorrow.

I am a special agent with the CIA. My current mission here in Jamaica was just finished up. It may seem odd to send a white girl to Jamaica on this kind of secret mission, as I didn’t fit in with the locals. But the perv of an arms supplier we just took down had a thing for white chicks. My partner in this mission, Gannon Brooks, was a temporary partner since this was on his home turf. I’ll be sad to leave him behind, but mainly because of his genuine disinterest in me. And I’m comfortable with him because of that.

Uncomfortable was me playing ditzy dumb girl, aroused by a wealthy man with lots of jewelry and pools and cars. All I had wanted was his guns. The cold steel ones. His other “gun” would stay locked up with him in prison now. Thank goodness. I’m sure some girl somewhere would be unhappy about that. But they would just miss his money since he had tended to be quite loose with it. And that had made him easy for us to track down.

Having Gannon as a temporary partner had made a nice change for me. I hoped when I did get moved somewhere new, I would finally get a new permanent partner who wouldn’t be a total pig. Okay, my current partner Isaiah isn’t totally a bad guy, he just doesn’t get me. I’m not into him! But he keeps trying, and I keep ignoring most of his attempts. At the times he persists, I threaten his manhood, and that seems to push the message across. Such behavior just makes me look like a cold-blooded spy and assassin, which is a great cover on the outside. But it wears a girl down.

No, I don’t hate him too much. He is the best backup I have ever had, and I can see what his interest is in me. At five feet and nine inches I am usually intimidating to most men, but not to a top rated spy like Isaiah Turelli. I think it was the first thing about me he noticed, and he seems to stare even harder when I’m sporting four-inch heels. I’m not small by any means. I’m pushing one hundred seventy-five pounds, and most of it is hard toned muscle. I keep my nails and my jet black hair short, and I don’t wear a lot of makeup. Unless the mission calls for it. Like today did. And I couldn’t wait to scrub it off.

My specialty is hand to hand combat, but I prefer to take out the bad guys from a distance. Easy in, easy out. That’s how I roll. But sometimes you have to play dirty and get in real close and personal. I am damned good at that, too. Not that I always like it, but it’s all a part of my job.

Gannon cleared his throat as he approached me from behind, announcing his arrival to the open air café. I came out of my thoughts to see beach blond Isaiah roll up in front of the cafe in a bright red Jeep, tropical-flowered shirt unbuttoned and smoking a cigar. I didn’t even know he was on the island. Figures he would be my “exit plan”.

Sighing, I stood and grabbed my sunglasses and wallet.

“‘Twas a pleasure working wit’ ya, Tess girl. Any more bad guys come across our radar I let ya know,” Gannon said in his thick accent. He patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the cafe, tossing a peace sign Isaiah’s way. Why couldn’t all men be more like Gannon and just be happy with a pat on the shoulder?

I exited the cafe after leaving a few bucks on the table for the cola I hadn’t even touched. Putting on my oversized sunglasses, I braced myself as I headed towards the Jeep. I was still in my ruby red cocktail dress from the mission, and I tuned out the whistles that came my way as I crossed the patio and sidewalk. I couldn’t wait to put on some pants.

Sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, Isaiah looked me up and down. “Oooh Tess, that’s a good color on you. And good job taking down Frankie the Flirt. Though in that dress you’d have any guy on his knees.”

“Just shut up and get me out of here. I need to change.”

“Good thing I picked up your bags for you. We’re heading straight for the strip. You can change on the plane. Just let me know if you need help.” Isaiah winked at me as I strapped on my seat belt, then chuckled like it was funny.

“Ugh.” Was all I managed to say as we sped off down the street. It was going to be a long trip back to base.

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