Here I am in Caracas, Venezuela. I have been tasked with evaluating the CAG potential of both some new recruits and some fairly seasoned veterans. You would think that they sent me here to check out their expertise. Actually, the main criteria is whether or not they evoke homicidal feelings in your truly. Let me just say, some of them will NEVER work for CAG.
The team will consist of the ever-efficient Claire, the shade wearing Rossi, a new guy named Donovan Smith, and another new agent, Serafina Malena Wünstensachsel, who is going by the name Alicia Sanchez – thank all that is holy for aliases (says Lysniewski who never uses one! Apparently, there have been a series of crimes that were very out of character for those committing the acts. The crimes have absolutely no connection other than an address in Venezuela. It seems that shitloads of space bucks (the currency in Venezuela) have been sent to this address. The team is to stop whatever is going on there and recover some cash, if possible. Jack is not here, so the second part of that assignment actually stands a fighting chance. Speaking of Jack, I stop and get him a T-shirt that reads, "my wife went to Venezuela and all I got to do was stay home gambling." Okay, so maybe I had to have it made.
Things start out okay. I stand in the shadows (lordie – does this mean I’ve been hanging with (Nun)Chuck for too long?) at the airport and watch the team’s arrival. The new guy, Donovan Smith, has a little trouble with customs, but manages to get through okay. Rossi’s cries of ‘Dude’ not only can be heard throughout the airport, but they also annoy the customs officials enough that they let him through just to shut him up. I am stunned to see Claire carrying a microwave.
Alicia meets them and greets them in Spanish. Too bad nobody on the team actually speaks Spanish. I cackle at the astonished look on her face. Ah well, off we go.
I am following, but in a rare streak of less than fortuitous signal light turning and traffic patterns, am having to relax some of my excellent driving standards and cross a divider or two to keep up. The team loses points for not spotting me.
However, Alicia gets some points back for actually getting an apartment in the building in question. She has stocked the refrigerator, but the apartment is bare of furniture except for the As-Seen-On-TV air mattresses. Of all the television channels coming out of America to be picked up internationally – The Shopping Network???? What is this world coming to? Oops, what is this world coming to, bitch? (It’s important never to end a sentence with a preposition. Of course, I just ended that sentence with ‘a preposition’ but that doesn’t really count ‘cause I meant the part of speech not the actual words … shit – where is my therapist’s phone number, I think I am having a grammatical breakdown. Worse yet, somewhere in Monaco, Jack is developing a case of dice-thrower’s thumb...)
Okay, back to the team. The next day, Donovan wants to know who is responsible for maintenance in the building, so he breaks the phone jack in the apartment. However, the team wisely decides that allowing the building super to come in and see four inflatable mattresses, no furniture and a bunch of gringos inside would probably be less than beneficial. Instead, he breaks the emergency fire light in the hallway. Alicia calls the super and reports the problem. She then meets him in the hallway. The rather attractive handyman looks at the rather attractive Alicia. He offers his services. Although, she finds it pleasing to look at him, she recalls the gringo infestation problem in her apartment and tells him that her mother is visiting. Disappointed, he turns his attention to the broken light and proceeds to take out the power in most of the building. Apparently, he went to the Jack Payne school of electrical wiring…
Back in the apartment, Rossi is busy putting his glasses on and off as the lighting situation changes.
Claire finds a place to watch the building. I watch her watching. Later, she lunches at Armando’s Oasis, the restaurant on the first floor of the building (I am relieved that she is not still carrying the microwave oven, because that might have seemed a little odd to the restaurant staff).
Meanwhile, the boys have decided to check out the doctors’ offices on the first floor. Donovan takes Rossi to the front desk. Neither of them speaks Spanish. Rossi tries doing the international symbol for ‘I have the Venezuelan version of Montezuma’s Revenge’, but they mistake it for the more common international symbol for ‘I have a hangover’ and present him with a thoroughly repulsive greenish colored home remedy. Always the good trooper, he drinks it. After more duding and belly rubbing, one of the doctors comes out. He speaks English, as he was born in America, and he gets Rossi an emergency appointment after Donovan agrees to pay cash for the visit.
The boys check out the security in the office. They see several cameras and contact tape on the windows.
Rossi comes out from his appointment with a box of Immodium AD. He plans on making a gift of it to (Up)Chuck.
Alicia is hanging around the mailboxes trying to see where the mail that is addressed only to the building, not a specific suite or apartment, is delivered. Unfortunately, she is unable to see.
I decide to go to Armando’s for dinner. I always like to check out the competition.
I am happily sitting in the corner when Donovan enters. He manages to spot me and approaches. He points out that I am white. I’ll make a note of that in case I forget later on. He sits, but I think he finds my company less than pleasing. Since his attempts at locating the security measures in the restaurant were obviously not terribly thorough, I point out the various devices and their locations for him.
You’d think he’d be thankful, no? No. He actually has the balls to correct a culinary observation that I make. I make an executive decision to off him. But, my therapist’s voice is ringing in my ears – think about the consequences of your actions… I take a minute to picture the conversation with my shadowy and rarely appearing bosses:
Boss - So, you were sent to observe him and you executed him … why? Sheila - Well, he disagreed with my oregano observation. Boss - I see. Do you think, um, maybe the punishment was a little extreme?
Fuck. This whole thinking about things sucks. I used to just be reactionary. I must be getting soft in my old age.
Donovan then asks me if I have some paper so he can write the alarm information down. What? No anti-surveillance kit? What is happening to that agency?
We drink the night away. Armando joins us at some point with a complimentary bottle, because we had already spent more on alcohol than the restaurant earned on food the entire evening. I get verschnookered. So does Armando, and Donovan is feeling no pain.
Claire comes in, sees me and leaves. I figure she’s going back for her microwave oven, but then she returns empty-handed and joins us.
Armando is getting really obnoxious, so I give his chair a gentle kick. (Note the use of the word gentle.)
Now that Armando is unconscious, we can talk. But then Diego, the other brother, comes in. He is horrified that his brother passed out at the table of some patrons. I convince him that the bill should be on the house. He agrees. Excellent!
Claire feels that I may not be in the best condition to drive, so I go upstairs with them. Donovan proceeds to pass out on the floor, so Claire offers me his air mattress. I fall into a deep drink-induced sleep.
Rossi, Claire and Alicia – who refuses to stay in the apartment with the snoring drunks – go to break into the doctors’ offices.
They don cheap disguises and go to the front door. Rossi eventually manages to get the door open. The beeping sound of an impending alarm sends them searching for the control panel. They locate it, but there is no time to try to defeat it. Rossi cuts the outgoing line and sets off the alarm. He then turns that off.
The team searches the offices and exam rooms. Claire finds a safe in the medicine room and Rossi spends some time trying to open it. He finds the heavy-duty medicinal narcotics and some cash. He takes everything. At the very least, he figures he can sell some of the drugs to Alex Architect. Meanwhile, Claire notices that there are no diplomas for the oral surgeon in the practice. The girls decide to look for a dental suite and head to the back of the office. Claire stops to put duct tape over the hallway camera. Jack would be so proud!
Rossi joins the girls and asks what they are doing. Alicia says they are looking for hypnosis equipment. Rossi laughs at her. They find the dental suite, Claire finds the doctor’s office and Rossi finds the hypnosis equipment. Alicia glares at him.
They decide it is time to leave the office and head back out the front. As Rossi is exiting, a drunken couple is entering the building. Their camera inadvertently starts going off, catching Rossi in several leaving-the-scene-of-the-crime action shots.
Rossi doesn’t realize that he is about to get his fifteen minutes, but Alicia does. The team gets on the elevator with the drunks and Alicia reaches over and pulls the release knob on the camera, opening the back and exposing the film.
"Dude, that sucks," says a sympathetic and utterly clue-less Rossi.
The next morning, the team is awakened as the police arrive to check out the mayhem at the doctors’ office.
They decide that they should terminate the oral surgeon – I’m sorry – they should extricate with extreme suction (the dental euphemism). It’s fortunate that this team doesn’t realize how perilously close they are to having the SPOATS show up on the scene. You know, anytime a dentist needs executing, there is a danger that they will show up and we all know how badly that can go. Donovan asks Alicia to drive him to the man’s house. Claire informs him that the man has both a wife and a mistress – as she saw pictures of both on the man’s desk.
Alicia takes Donovan there and stops the car. He gets out, punctures her tire and makes his way to the house. The sound of fluid Spanish cursing can be heard from the roadside as Alicia takes out the spare and begins jacking up the car.
Donovan knocks on Dr. Rampaul’s door and the wife answers. Donovan explains that he wants to use the phone because he is having car trouble. Cries of mierda can be heard along with the sound of a jack hitting the pavement. The couple doesn’t really speak English that well and definitely doesn’t want to let Donovan in, so he heads back to the car.
As he approaches, he hears, "Choo mudder focker!" He translates that internally. The grimy Alicia is glaring at him. He finishes changing the tire. She starts driving back, hits a pothole and blows out the spare. The rest of Alicia’s conversation has been edited…
She calls the Venezuelan version of AAA and actually gets through. A tow truck comes.
"Yo, why don’t choo use de spare?" Alicia’s grip on the tire iron tightens.
Eventually, they change the tire and Alicia and Donovan return to the apartment.
We are slightly surprised at their grease-stained appearance and ask what happened.
Simultaneously, we hear, "he punctured the tire" and "she hit a pothole." We engage in a rather entertaining round of he said/she said. Claire wants to know why Donovan didn’t just off the Rampauls while he was there. Apparently, the night stalker prefers the cover of darkness for his dastardly deeds. Wow, I’m thinking that the only way I could ever use most of the assassins on one mission would be if the target was in the bathroom ((Nun)Chuck) of a bar (the Twins) at night (Donovan) that could be seen from a distant tower (Dana) and the target needed to be tranquilized first (Jack). I’ll just give everybody else to Claire.
So, Donovan, Alicia and Rossi are going back to the house that night. I take Claire on the side and tell her that we’ll follow in my car – it will be very entertaining.
We arrive at the house and Donovan and Rossi creep up the lawn. Alicia is waiting in the car, which is now equipped with several regular-sized spares.
Rossi has his night vision goggles to help him peer into the house and see things. Of course, they prove detrimental to his ability to walk without tripping. Claire and I giggle. If only I had brought a pitcher of martikis!
Anyway, the boys eventually gain entrance to the house and disable the alarm. They make their way to the master bedroom. Rossi opens the door a crack and peers inside. The wife opens her eyes and says, "Querida, ¿estas tu?"
Rossi, the deer-in-the-headlights pauses for a second and says, "si."
Screams shatter the night. Claire and I erupt in laughter. I know, it’s not really funny. Aw, fuck it, yes it is!
Donovan and Rossi charge the couple in the bed. Rossi knocks out the doctor who is reaching for something in the night-stand and Donovan knocks out the wife.
They tie the couple up with duct tape.
Claire’s phone rings. It’s Rossi. He is just giving Claire a status report. Isn’t he supposed to be in charge? She thanks him and hangs up. I tell her, see – this is really entertaining. Welcome to the world of spy voyeurism!
After they awaken, the boys try to question them. Rossi went to the (Up)Chuck school of interrogation and doesn’t remove the duct tape from the man’s mouth, but is still able to understand that the man is saying, "fuck you."
After what seems an eternity, Rossi gives up and leaves the room so Donovan can slit the couple’s throats.
The boys have managed to set off another alarm.
Rossi calls Claire again. He wants to tell her that she and I should blow up the dentist’s office since we are at the apartment building, but he is suspicious of the alarm sounds he is hearing through the phone. She tells him we will take care of it.
Alicia takes the boys to a hotel.
Claire and I return to the apartment and pack everything up. Then we go back to the office downstairs. Claire picks the lock and I light a cigarette, put it on the counter and open the valve on the nitrous. I run out and past Claire, who is asking if it is time to leave. The speed of my departure warns her that she should make tracks and she hastily runs after me, slipping a little as she goes.
We run out of the building and stand a safe distance away to watch the explosion. Now, I know that ‘safe distance away’ is a relative term when you are discussing one of my explosions, but this one worked nicely – just the office. I didn’t blow the whole block up, or even the whole building! My therapist will be so proud. I can’t wait to call him.
So, here is my report. Claire is incredibly efficient – she even brings her own oven and would make a nice addition to the CAG band of assassins (of course, Cahill will never let her go, but that’s only my personal observation). Donovan wouldn’t last a day, but that’s only because I would probably shoot him. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to stuff the body in the car trunk of I-learn-from-my-mistakes Serafina, the overcompensater, as there are now about four spare tires taking up all the room. And Rossi. What can I say about Rossi? Well, let’s start with if I have to hear the words dude and like used more than ten times in one two sentence paragraph one more time, I am going to rip out his tongue and use it in a recipe. Then I will hang his sunglasses on my wall next to the Modern Art (Up)Chuck colonoscopy photos.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go home and find Jack…