He wasn’t your ordinary secret agent, fitting in with the others. Copper hair, watery eyes, smoked a pipe. Got his job via a plug from Sarah Mick who worked in cold calling.
He didn’t force it. But there was a sinking feeling he couldn’t ignore. A pressure in the back of his mind telling him to focus.
He suddenly felt very hot.
Something about the database in his computer. Something about that poor Sue-Lynn from admin who would drip info through every second day.
The colour drained from his face when he realised.
His phone: it had been tapped.
Friday Fictioneers is a challenge set by Rochelle each week where writers from around the world post 100 word stories based on a common photo prompt. For more information, and to read other stories, visit Rochelle’s page here.
PS if you have discovered the meaning of this story and…
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