A Mission in G Major

No, it's not the 'Mission Impossible' theme

Posted by Karl Bickerstaff on Tue, Aug 27, 2019
In Short Stories, Reedsy Prompts
Tags reedsy, music

These Reedsy prompts seem to be working out well (or you’re all too nice to complain).

You are an expert spy for the British government, trained to perfection. Your only weakness is that your background music alerts enemies to your presence.

A Mission in G Major

By Karl Bickerstaff

“Ready?”

I nodded slowly, trying to take deep breaths.

“Relax, Magnus. You’ve done the jump a hundred times in training.”

Though true, this did little to calm my stomach, which was churning like a water balloon caught in a mixer. It was not a pleasant feeling, and the jolting of the airplane was doing little to help it. Agent Thornton, however, did not seem to be bothered by it.

“Reaching jump zone in thirty seconds,” the pilot called back.

Thornton stood up and began stretching, somehow managing to keep his balance despite the strong turbulence we were flying through.

“Fifteen seconds,” the pilot called back.

“Agent Thornton, sir?”

“It’s Robert, Magnus. What is it?”

I hesitated briefly. “What are we supposed to do on landing?”

Thornton–excuse me, Robert–smiled. “Exactly what you trained, Magnus. Get out of the parachute and get under cover.”

“Right. I can do that.”

“Of course you can, lad.”

“Five seconds,” the pilot said. The door swung open, letting in a violent blast of cold air and snow.

“Three… two… now.”

Robert nonchalantly stepped up to the door and dropped out. As soon as I got my breathing under control again, I followed.

We plummeted downward for several thousand feet, the landscape beneath us but a dark, shadowy mass. Finally, Robert released his parachute. I quickly did the same.

We landed with a soft thud in a snowy field, about twenty feet from the edge of a small grove of pine trees. As quickly as we could with our stiff, cold hands, we cut the parachutes loose and ran for the shelter of the trees.

As we ducked into the dim shadows, I pulled out my radio and earpiece. Robert shook his head.

“Too risky. They could intercept the signal. We’re sticking together, anyway.”

I nodded and stowed away the equipment. We moved quickly through the trees, our feet crunching on the frost-layered needles beneath us. Eventually, we could make out the dim lights of a small town. That was something of a clue–given the tight wartime blackout regulations, it was unusual to find lights on.

Robert leaned closer to me. “That’s it. Our target is here.”

I nodded and gulped.

“Stay low as we cross the field,” Robert whispered as he began drifting across the snowy expanse, his gray outfit blending with the dirty solidified water. It’s strange how dirty snow can get. You always expect it to be pure white and glistening, but it always seemed to be dull and dirty during the war.


I actually wasn’t intending to do this, but this story is stretching out farther than I though it would, so

Continued in Part 2

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