The Not so Secret Agent

  

 


Contributed by - Ed

Chapter Eleven: Arthur's Good Luck

Arthur settled down on the comfortable side of an oak tree and leaned back with notebook and pen in hand. The sun had already set behind the hills west of the lake but there was time to write his sister before it got completely dark.

Tee,

I've been bouncing back and forth all spring, Jakt doesn't have enough work to hire me all the time so every two or three weeks I go to work for the MNR. They apparently don't clean their stables while I'm gone. Right now I'm staying in a park building with twenty-three other residents- well, okay... they're horses.

The park ranger I work for sometimes lets me go over to the main building after work and watch television. Strangely, this spring is the first time I've had a chance to watch Danubian TV, I now realize why so few homes have televisions. Who ever made these shows didn't do anything right.

I watched an episode of a cop show, with police partners on a stakeout. They spot the suspect sneaking down the street at night- only a mask and a cape would've made this guy look more suspicious. The police partners tail the man, who is always nervously glancing over his shoulder but never manages to spot the police hiding behind tree trunks, phone booths, or shrubbery. Then they catch him red-handed in the act of committing a crime. Dramatic music starts up and the cops move in with guns-drawn and arrest the suspect for the crime of (I shit you not) vandalism. The show ends with the criminal making a tearful apology for his sinful ways, and the police lecturing viewers at home about how it's wrong to spray paint other people's property. As a criminal, I've never been so offended! And that was one of the better shows; it's too painful to describe what the sitcoms are like.

The newspapers aren't much better, the headlines all week were about new irrigation ditches. It had color graphics and everything. Most of the general population is wound up about the opportunities that will come from building it; of course, free people don't have to do the backbreaking work. It said in the paper that over 2800 criminals are available to work on the project.

I got my notice during lunch break. I was leaning back on a tree eating a bowl of potatoes and bread and watching a couple women exercising (naked) down by the campground. Don't you judge me! Watching girls stretch or go for a run is the only good thing about being here, but unfortunately I was rudely interrupted by the delivery of an official looking envelope.

Inside was an invitation from Public Works. I'll see Samantha when they send me back to Rika Chorna tomorrow. I don't know if she's been assigned to the project or not.
Samantha has been a little down since she found out that Laura was leaving Rika Chorna. Laura's boyfriend completed his sentence last month and he wanted her to go back to his home in Danube City with him. He promised her better living conditions and an easier life in the capital. For Samantha it was like being left alone since I'm hardly ever around. They're supposed to keep in touch but people do move on with their lives, I doubt I ever see Laura again.

I continue to attend church when I'm back in the city. The clergy treat me pretty well; one priestess in particular has made me into her special project. She's doing her best to turn me into a full-fledged member of the Danubian Church. Let me tell you, it's not easy; every time I see her she has more reading material for me to learn. Like a child on a road trip I ask: "How much longer?" She just smiles, tells me to be patient and assigns me some other task. I have a new appreciation for the efficiency of American televangelists, send money and you're in!

You're the only one from back home who writes me. Well, mom wrote two more letters but I've never responded, I get plenty of lecturing over here already. In the past two years I haven't received a single letter from any of my friends. Now that I think about it, I really don't give a shit about them either. What exactly would we talk about anyway, the thickness of the calluses on my hands?

I suppose I'm just in a bad mood. I'm tired and it's time to head back to my cot before they come to check on me.

Hate you more than ever,

Arthur


He walked back through the stables, past all the horse stalls on the right and saddles hanging on the opposite wall, to a square windowless room at the west end of the building. Arthur put the notebook beside him on the cot. He didn't want to forget it; it contained three letters that he wanted to mail when he got back to Rika Chorna. And he knew with certainty that the Ministry of Justice would be sure to have him back at Spokesman Ralkliv's office first thing in the morning.

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Arthur raised up on his elbows enough to read through a letter sent by his sister Tee. She had taken a break from college and was living in Maryland with some guy that worked for the State Department. Arthur grinned, imagining his sister attending a formal dinner in flip-flops and cheap over sized jewelry.

He didn't notice Samantha enter. "You look like shit Arthur."

Arthur flinched in surprise and groaned from the pain that the sudden movement caused. He turned to see Samantha standing in the doorway with one hand on her hip. "Uh... Well... I suppose I could comb my hair a bit."

Samantha looked down at his swollen welt-covered skin and cringed. "It's the guy that gave you that haircut that should have been beaten."

�It was cheap at least." Arthur shrugged. "I didn't hear you come in. Where's Jakt at? I usually hear you two flirting."

Samantha laughed. "He's out front working on that pile of junk he calls a pickup truck... naked. I just opened the gate and there he was... underneath the hood, on his hands and knees right up on top of the engine not wearing a stitch of clothes and covered in black grease."

Arthur nodded. "Ah... The timeless art of seduction. But to tell you the truth, I'm getting tired of all this sexual tension when you come over here. Why don't you two just make sweet love and get it over with already? I mean Jakt's old, how much longer are you going to play hard to get?"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Jakt notices me closing the gate and he turns around, the front of the truck's facing the gate by the way... and he just turns around and starts talking to me like nothing out of the ordinary is happening."

�This is the most erotic story I've ever heard. Slow down. Give me the details. What happened next? Did he drop a wrench on the ground and ask you to pick it up for him? Was there any suggestive dialog? Did he ask you to touch his ball joints or look at his crank shaft?"

�Uh... no, but I saw quite enough, thank you! I don't think I can get that image out of my head. There should be an age limit for running around naked outside."

�Now you're making me jealous. I mean, how would you feel if I seduced your host? I can do it too, if I can just get the husband out of the house. You know all that kneeling's just a pretense to get a better look at my butt, she definitely wants some spy action- I bet the old man's just not doing it for her any more."

"Don't you have enough women beating you already?"

�Now you sound jealous." Arthur decided to get up. He did his best to act like the burning throbbing pain on his buttocks, thighs, and shoulders didn't bother him. When he had gotten to his feet, unclenched his muscles and taken a few breaths the pain subsided. "I do seem to attract the wrong sort of attention, are you just off for lunch?"

�Yeah, I've got to go in ten minutes. Just wanted to come by and see if you were still in one piece." Samantha moved close for a kiss.

�You know, I think we should get married." Arthur would rather have had a more dignified way to bring up the subject than stinking of dried sweat and covered in welts, but time was not on his side, he would have to leave Rika Chorna in the morning and be gone for months at a time.

Samantha took in a sharp breath. "What?"

�I said that I think we should get married... I mean, I'm not sure if we can... given our unusual situation but I want you to marry me."

�Wow... I... Hmm... After stammering about for a few seconds Samantha looked at Arthur with a wicked smile. "Lets do it, let's get married!" With a girlish scream Samantha jumped enthusiastically throwing her arms around Arthur's shoulders.

Arthur's eyes went wide in pain. "Ack... Shit, that hurts!"

Samantha giggled but let go. " Oh, sorry."

�What am I getting myself into?"

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A hundred criminals lined up in orderly ranks, standing at attention inside the old train station. The guards had their switches and batons out, making a big show of the inspection in front of the crowd. The train was on time; in Danubia the train is always on time. Free people took their seats and then the criminals were allowed to board, though the criminals weren't permitted the luxury of a seat or travel in a passenger car.

Arthur stood and gripped a wall panel with his left hand; the train car swayed and bumped so much that it was hard to stand otherwise. And Arthur did want to stand, he could see that the last occupants were either sheep or goats. It was the tenth of May and the warm air whipping all around this open topped livestock car smelled of spring... and goats. Though it was not easy to judge time Arthur thought they traveled almost two hours eastward from Rika Chorna before the train came to a stop near an intersection. Two Public Works buses took the criminals southward for another hour until the road became even too muddy for the bus to travel. The final ten km would be traveled on foot.
The criminals marched along in groups of ten; occasionally, guards drove by in a pickup truck to check on their progress.

"Hurry up, you dishonored bastards." The guards taunted seemingly out of boredom, it was obvious that ten people chained together by the necks and walking on a muddy road were limited in how fast they could move.

The simple farm road had deteriorated under heavy traffic. The criminal work crew kept to the center, between the parallel grooves left by the big trucks that passed by from time to time. They were in the sparsely populated region near the border of Danubia's two eastern-most provinces, a flat landscape of pastures and cultivated fields of wheat, oats, and barley that stretched on for kilometers to either side.

After two hours of walking Arthur could see the camp from the top of a small hill. A cramped but orderly grid of canvass tents and trailers replaced what had once been a pasture a kilometer across. A thirty-meter antenna tower set in the middle, on the northern border a line of flatbed trucks were being unloaded manually. Bulldozers, excavators and other heavy equipment set in a clearing on the camp's east side. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people moved about.

A guard, weary and irritable, stepped out of the first tent beside the road. He sighed loud enough for everyone to hear it and then raised a hand to stop the work crew. Arthur thought that he might unlock the chain, but the guard was only interested in getting them classified and assigned before the next group arrived. Without saying a thing the guard walked by copying numbers off the collars and onto his clipboard. When all ten names were recorded he stepped back to his desk and searched through a box of supplies before finding what he wanted.

The guard peeled off a round green sticker with a white #22 on it and stuck it right on the chest of the young man who was first in line. With the criminal work crew cataloged and labeled his job was done; he pointed down a well-traveled road through the center of camp, said: "camp green," and then made a gesture as if shooing off flies.

There were five camps spread out along the work site, each held hundreds of male criminals, a separate smaller camp held the women. Arthur and the other nine were herded toward an encampment of about fifty army tents each with a green sign and number on it. A female guard stopped them at the camp entrance.

�Down on your knees." Arthur and the others got down on trampled grass as she approached. "I expect to you dishonored animals to answer 'Yes Officer' when you are given an order. Is that clear?"

�Yes Officer." The group repeated with not much enthusiasm. Satisfied with her dominance over the lowly criminals, the woman set down her shotgun and began unlocking the chain from the collars. Next there was the assignment of living quarters. Arthur had a canvas cot inside a military style canvas tent with nine other criminals; on top of his cot was a box containing a toothbrush, soap, and a few other items as well as a list of rules and regulations. This was home for some undetermined amount of time.

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Work began the next morning. Strangely enough, in this project that was marketed as a way to bring the Eastern Valley into the twenty-first century, most of the labor seemed more first century. Canals were roughed out with an old excavator that smoked and groaned with every scoop, after the machine moved on criminal labor crews gave the canal its final slope. Piles of soil and rock were moved by hand drawn sledges, wheel barrels, and shovels; then compacted using hand drawn rollers and muscle. At the ends of each segment private contractors installed metal irrigation gates set in concrete.

This was hard labor; long exhausting days, in the glare of the late spring sun, under the watch of guards who had no sympathy for the 'animals' they supervised. Arthur and the others got used to it though, and tried to make their time off after work as pleasant as possible. There were games played and sports for those who had the energy. A few enterprising Danubians even made rudimentary musical instruments; by the second week there were a few peculiar bands performing after supper.

Arthur socialized some, but he wasn't exactly friends with any of the other criminals. He knew how serious and easily offended Danubians tended to be; so he was cautious, just not cautious enough.

One afternoon during his second week Arthur and a particularly large Danubian criminal were ordered to assist the contractors with the placement of a section of gate. During a lengthy delay, while concrete was being poured, Arthur thought he would try out one of his latest attempts at a translating an American joke into Danubian.

Arthur told his joke and got no response. Thinking that some of the words were lost in translation Arthur tried to explain. "Alright... it's like if your mother walked in on your sister with... the... Rika Chorna men's soccer team... and there's a jar of money in the floor and..."

The Danubian found this explanation even less satisfying. He grabbed Arthur's right arm in one hand and drew back the other for a punch. Arthur owed the slimy red clay for the miss. As he tried to jerk away from the Danubian's grip his feet went out from under him. The big man didn't let go. Tumbling backwards and upside-down on the slope, by chance Arthur's feet got underneath the Danubian's mid-section. He kicked, sending the big man flipping end-over-end and landing in two feet of muddy water. Arthur slid to a stop just short of the waterline and then scrambled back up the incline before his big angry friend extracted himself from the mud. A guard had noticed the disturbance.

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Back at the camp Arthur and his large friend were placed into a chain link enclosure just outside the guard's quarters. It was simply a six-meter square pen set on dying trampled grass with a gate on the north end. Arthur hoped the Danubian was no longer in the mood to fight- big and tall beats average and well... average any day. He knew he just got lucky the first time, now that he was locked in a cage with his adversary it was time to use diplomacy.

�You see, this is all a misunderstanding." The large man's fists were clenched, not a good sign.

�I don't want you to take what I said the wrong way." No response.

�I'm sure that you actually come from a very respectable family... and I didn't mean to imply otherwise." The big man looked even angrier, and took a step forward.

�And I'm certain that your mother is a saint... or uh... whatever..." Arthur dashed to the side avoiding the big man's grip.

�Fight me like a man!" The Danubian growled."

�Uh... I'd rather not." Arthur stepped to the side avoiding him again.

�Really if you think about it... er... you and me..." Arthur faked going left and dashed right. "We aren't all that different."

�Uh... us criminals got to stick together right?" Arthur's next footstep skidded on wet grass and the Danubian landed a hard punch to his ribs. Arthur tumbled off balance from the blow, kicking, and scrambling as the big man lurched over him throwing more punches.

A shotgun blast at close range got both their attentions. The criminal who was about to knock Arthur's head off swore under his breath and backed away. The sounds of multiple pump-action shotguns loading accompanied the shouts of approaching guards.

The first guard through the gate kicked Arthur to the ground and twisted his arms back to apply handcuffs (for the protection of the five guards and the other criminal). When both criminals were subdued a female officer stepped into the cage. She was about thirty, a little shorter than Arthur, and judging from her immaculately pressed gray uniform, unaccustomed to camp life.

�You." She looked disgusted at Arthur, on his knees in front of her, covered in red clay and clumps of grass. "What is your name?"

�Officer, my name is # 88588."

�That accent... Where are you from criminal # 88588?"

�The United States."

�Amerikanitsk. Amerikanitsk?" She curiously repeated the term for a male American. "You're the spy aren't you?"

It was clear to Arthur that fame was over-rated. "Yes officer, I was convicted of espionage two years ago."

�And you are still causing trouble, are you not?"

Arthur borrowed a phrase that American politicians use when they get in trouble, to sound apologetic without admitting anything. "I regret that mistakes were made officer."

�I can tell you that you will definitely regret causing a disturbance at this camp. You have not only violated the regulations of the Ministry of Public Works but also the terms of..."

The listing of rules that they had broken went on for quite some time. Arthur considered his options while the officer veered off into lecture mode, using phrases that must have been pulled directly out of some police manual. By the time the series of warnings, quoted regulations, and platitudes was complete Arthur had decided how to respond. The guards were intimidating but the look that the 250lb gorilla was giving him seemed worse.

�Officer, the disturbance was entirely my fault, my careless words provoked this man into fighting me." Arthur glanced over at his big angry friend, hoping that did the trick.

�Who is at fault is not for a dishonored criminal to decide. You're aware of the camp rules are you not?"

�Yes officer."

�And you." She spoke to the big criminal to Arthur's right.

�Yes officer." He rumbled in a low deep voice.

�Good, then you have no excuses." She gave an order to a subordinate in her most authoritative voice and then turned to leave looking quite pleased with herself.

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The wild boar was hit- it bucked straight up in the air and made a horrible squeal. Its last few strides took it into the swampy border of a thick hedge. The boar ceased moving after a minute. The other two guards congratulated the shooter and commented on the fine meal it would make.

The shooter was eager to see his prize up close. "You two dishonored criminals; go get that pig."

Arthur started to give a reasonable explanation why that would not be such a good idea but he could see that the guard was completely unsympathetic. His big friend was already wading toward the boar's body; its hindquarters and one foot poked out of the tangle of grass and brambles. It looked bigger up close. Arthur looked to his partner, hoping he had done this before.

Arthur grabbed hold of the boar's left hind foot with both hands. It was covered in black bristles, callused and hard, big around as softball, and twitching. The plan was that they would grab the boar by the hind legs and drag it on its back toward the bank. Such a plan required that the boar be dead though. The animal shook free of his grip as though he was nothing at all and spun around in a fury of splashing water. Like his partner, Arthur thought it was time to retreat. Twenty meters ahead two guards brought shotguns to their shoulders. Arthur scrambled as fast as four limbs could take him through water, mud, and grass.

Something hit his left leg hard below the knee; there were gunshots- he stumbled forward and splashed into a hole of knee-deep water. Gripping handfuls of grassroots with both hands he yanked himself back to his feet. Arthur's left leg buckled under his weight. This time he couldn't gather the strength to pull himself out of the mud- or hold himself up. His weakening arms gave out and Arthur sank gently into the water, muddy brown water that strangely had a significant amount of red mixing in. Someone close by shouted and gripped his right arm, he was being pulled up. Arthur felt like vomiting... or sleeping.

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The smell of rubbing alcohol and the click of footsteps on a hard surface... Arthur opened his eyes, and blinked at bright fluorescent lighting overhead. Slowly he focused; he was in a small bed with a sheet and a white blanket over him- a strange feeling. He raised his sore head to look around the long narrow room, there were several more beds, some like his own had IV bags hanging beside them... a hospital ward, he realized, five other patients lie on beds, or sat up chatting with visitors. His mouth and throat were completely dry. There was a pitcher of water and an empty glass on a small table nearby, Arthur scooted over to the edge of the bed and reached for the pitcher.

�Oh, come on!" He said, barely making a noise. His left wrist was handcuffed to the bed's railing. As he sat up he felt a throbbing pain in his left leg. Arthur threw back the covers to see the leg elevated on a pillow and bandaged from the knee down to his ankle. He wiggled his bruised toes just to make sure they still moved. "That boar..." Arthur remembered. "I got attacked by a fucking boar!"

A nurse walked into the far side of the room with an arm full of towels. Arthur couldn't say anything intelligible so he clapped his hands as loud as the handcuffs on his left wrist and the IV in his right arm would allow.

�Oh, I see you're awake," the nurse made a disapproving noise. "You need to stay in bed for a while and keep that leg elevated."

How exactly a person could leave the bed while handcuffed to it Arthur didn't know but he was more concerned with thirst. Arthur made a gesture as if drinking. The nurse poured a glass of the best water Arthur had ever tasted; he drank it down greedily and then had some more.

�Am I in Rika Chorna?" His voice came out raspy and slurred; his usually nimble tongue uncooperative.

�No, you're in the Provincial Capital of Novo Sokut Tok, Rika Chorna's over a hundred and fifty kilometers from here by road. The medics brought you in yesterday; this was the closest hospital, I'm not sure you would have made it all the way to Rika Chorna with all the blood you lost."

�Nearly killed by a wild boar? I felt it slash at my leg, never would have seen that coming."

�Wild boar? Young man it was the gunshot wound that nearly killed you, the doctor removed five pellets of shot from your leg last night. One of them hit a major artery, that's why you nearly bled to death."

�Uh... the guards shot me?"

She shrugged. "Well, you shouldn't have messed around with a wounded animal. They said they had no choice but to fire at the beast before it killed you, you're lucky to be alive."

Arthur looked down at the handcuffs and his bandaged leg not feeling very lucky right then. "Nurse... can you unlock these and remove all this other stuff so I can get up."

�You're a criminal and you remain in custody, you can't just move around unsupervised. If you need to go to the restroom one of the staff will escort you there and back. And the IV will stay put until the doctor says otherwise." She gave Arthur a stern look. "The guards warned us about you, just because you're a patient don't think that you can do what you want. When a doctor or nurse gives you an order, we expect it to be followed, is that clear?"

�Yes ma'am. I'm not going to cause you any trouble." Arthur said. "But could I have paper and pen to write a letter?" She looked suspiciously at him before removing a notepad and pen from the table. Arthur placed the notepad on top of the railing and rolled to the side enough to write with his free hand.

Samantha,

I hope you received my last letter; I haven't had the opportunity to write in a couple weeks for reasons explained below. I got your letter Wednesday, it sounded like you had a pretty good time at the club, I always thought you had a good singing voice. You asked how I'm doing so I'll catch you up on what's going on with me.

Besides getting in a fight, being attacked by a wild boar, and shot in the leg by a guard everything is going pretty well here. I'm now lying in a hospital bed in a city called Novo Sokut Tok, though I haven't been able to see much of it, I hear it's nice. The nurse said I was very lucky to have survived- I don't know if she meant the boar or the guards. My left leg is bandaged below the knee, it throbs a bit and I can move my toes so everything seems to be in working order. I hope I don't get 'lucky' like this again.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll start with the fight. It all began with me telling a joke, the one about the mother who catches her daughter in the locker room with the baseball team- well, the Danubian I was telling the joke to thought I was talking specifically about his family. It was badly translated perhaps, but the end result was that a big Danubian criminal tried to knock my head off; besides some bruises he didn't do much damage. I was eventually able to explain that I didn't mean to insult him, and he got over it. The guards were not so forgiving. For the past two weeks both of us were forced to work four extra hours per day as partners, doing all sorts of unpleasant tasks. And that gets me to the part about the boar.

I don't know if they're native or not but there are large numbers of wild pigs here, they seem to enjoy the irrigation canals that we're digging. The guards sometimes hunt them and have pig roasts over at their quarters. Yesterday three of the guards took us on a pig hunt. They had a blind set up already by a section of canal where they left out food. A guard with a rifle shot an especially big boar, and my partner and I were sent out to into the swamp to retrieve it. Unfortunately for me the boar wasn't dead, just temporarily stunned and real angry. I'm not sure what happened next, but the nurse said they removed five pieces of shot from my leg yesterday. Also I have a couple toenails missing, and the lower part of my foot's black and blue, perhaps the thing bit me.

I haven't talked to the doctor yet so I'm not sure how long I have to stay here, but I suppose I'm going to be on crutches for a while. I'm not going to say that I wish you were here (believe me, you don't want to be here), but I do miss you. Even your smart-ass comments about my hairstyle.

Arthur


With the letter finished he tore out the page, folded it, and stretched to set it on the table, but he couldn't easily reach with his left hand attached to the railing. As Arthur contemplated trying to lasso the table with a power cord a female doctor walked into the room.

She spent a few seconds reading his chart. "Criminal # 88588, did the nurse explain what happened to you?"

�Yes ma'am, but I want to know what kind of damage was done to my leg."

�There was significant muscle damage but that should heal, my main concern is that the wounds don't start bleeding again or get infected. You need to keep it elevated for a couple days to reduce swelling, and stay off of it for two weeks but I expect you will make a full recovery. If all goes well we will release you in a couple days- I suspect you'll be sent back to Rika Chorna for recovery."

Arthur thought he should try again. "That's good to hear doctor, but since I can't even walk in this condition do you think these," Arthur raised his left wrist, "could be taken off."

�You want to be treated like a normal patient?" The doctor smiled pleasantly as she finished writing something on his chart.

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

Her once kind voice went cold. "Then you shouldn't have come into our country to steal from us, should you?"

The doctor was still looking at him. "No ma'am." Arthur leaned back while the doctor examined his leg and asked a few questions.

After she left Arthur looked around, feeling less groggy and more bored, there were ten hospital beds in the long narrow room, five of them occupied, Arthur was in the last bed against the outside wall, the nearest patient was four empty beds away. Arthur mused how fearful they were of his influence; warning the staff, chaining him to the bed, treating him like some spy-mastermind. It was comical, but also humiliating to always be pointed out as the worst in every group.

Still bored, with no entertainment at all, not even a TV in the room, Arthur looked at the handcuffs. There was no way to get them loose without disassembling the railing, and someone would probably notice that. He did see a small finish nail holding up a calendar above his head. "Pick the lock maybe," Arthur spoke English in a raspy whisper. "If I could reach it," Arthur glanced at the other patients, "But I'll have to kill some witnesses too." Arthur stared absently out the window and formulated an elaborate escape plan with no fewer than three stolen vehicles, multiple ridiculous disguises, and several unnecessary explosions. That done, he checked the clock. Only half an hour had passed but it was at least lunchtime. Arthur sat up in bed as an elderly woman came to deliver his tray; she hesitated when she saw that the criminal patient was handcuffed.

�Don't worry, I won't bite." The old woman looked horrified. Arthur realized that he should stop trying to translate American phrases into Danubian. It came out more like: "Don't think I won't bite you!" She put the tray and drink down on the side table and hurried off.

Arthur stretched as far as the handcuffs would allow and barely grasped the table leg with his fingertips. It made a terrible screech as he dragged it across the tile floor, all the other patients were staring, obviously annoyed. Arthur smiled and waved apologetically while saying vulgar things to them in English.

He set the tray in his lap and removed the cover with his free right hand. "Ugh... What is this? Strained pea soup and plain toast. Come on!" 

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The Not so Secret Agent - Chapter 12