Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) by Guy Stanton III

exploded.
    She stormed out the back door headed for her son. Oh boy, I’d just blown it up for Trent.
     
    Her shouted words came through clearly over the crashing of the surf on the beach, “Time to think about it! I didn’t give birth to a sissy minded pragmatic oddsmaker! Your girl needs you and if you think I’m going to let you…”
    “Whoa hold up mom! I’m going!”
    “Oh, well then why didn’t you say so?”
    “I wanted to inform you of my decision first.”
    “Oh.”
     
    Less than an hour later I was pulling away from the beachside cottage with Trent beside me in the car. I looked over at him, “Your mother…!” I just shook my head leaving the rest unsaid.
    “Yeah!” He commented dryly, “She can be a real force of nature when she wants to be.”
     
    Ella watched them drive off until they were out of sight before she closed the door. As it latched she turned her back to it and sank down to the floor inelegantly. Her emotions let loose, as her shaking hands grasped together, as her head fell forward onto them.
    “Oh dear God have mercy on us and on poor Deshavi!” She sobbed out, as all her fears overwhelmed her masked veneer of control.
     
     

Chapter Ten
    Stiff
    “What’s your plan for getting over there?” Trent asked.
    “Simple, we’ll arrive the same way that she did, in wooden crates. It’s all been arranged.” I said.
    He looked at me questioningly, “By who?”
    “An old friend of mine.”
    “Weapons?” He asked.
    I nodded and glanced over at him, “I think you’ll like the selection.”
    He looked at me for a long moment, as if he wanted to ask a question, but he held off on asking it.
    “One more thing, for the duration of this mission don’t refer to me as Caleb Longtree.”
    “What should I call you then?”
    “Call me Shalako.”
    He looked at me strangely, as if he couldn’t figure something out.
    “Incidentally your name for the length of this mission isn’t Trent Rogerson anymore.”
    “Oh?”
    “It’s Ring, Ring Sackett.”
    Trent straightened up, “That’s a character name from an old western writer’s book!”
    I nodded, “You have good taste in books.”
    “This all sounds very secret agent type stuff?” Trent asked suspiciously.
    I smiled, “You have no idea.”
    I pulled up to the hanger bay and got out of the car and approached the big hangar doors that light shined out of into the night. Chantry standing there in the light, quietly acknowledged each of us. “Shalako and I believe it’s Ring.”
    Trent looked suspiciously at Chantry before asking speculatively, “Borden Chantry?”
    Chantry’s eyebrows rose slightly as his eyes came to me, “I see we have a fan of the classics with us Shalako.”
    “It would appear so.”
    Trent looked from one to the other of us, “Are there more dudes like you hanging about with these retro names?”
    “Quite a few actually, not to mention a sizable number of lady agents. When this is all over and if you find yourself still wanting to partake in meaningful, as well as dangerous activities, give me a call. We’re always eager to add quality personnel to our family of agents.”
    “What exactly do you do?” Trent asked.
    Chantry smiled, “We like to think of ourselves as agents for good. In the course of doing good things we often find ourselves embroiled in all sorts of conflicts that lead to interesting situations and outcomes.”
    Chantry’s gaze turned to me, “We especially could use the mentoring influence of more RED agents!”
    “What’s a RED agent?” Trent asked curiously.
    “Retired Extremely Dangerous.” I answered for Trent.
    “I’ll think about it Chantry.” I said in response to Chantry.
    “That’s all that I ask. Now gentleman to your weapon selection.”
     
    We approached the tables full of gear. Trent looked up at me in surprise, “Not even Seals get this kind of selection!”
    I nodded, “Chantry has always prided himself on sending his people out with the best of