Gambit - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Revel
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 1

A solitairy figure hid in the deep brush surrounding a squat secluded building, the clouded moon over head sharing little light. The man who crouched motionlessly beside a young Evergreen tree, stared out at seemingly nothing. But the simple truth was, that the young auburn-haired individual was tracking and timing the wide expanse, the cameras mounted to the building, circled.

He was clad in black fatigues, nothing trademark about it. Around his waist a utility belt was strapped, holding what tools he'd need to break in silently and steel the data needed for the company he was employed to.

Inside the air vent he crawled, having easily passed the outside security. A simple lock pad, some rewiring, some screws loosened and a few other details. But now getting into the command central and hacking their computers would be the difficult task. "Non..." he said, "no one 'urt Remy, got'a be in an' ou', no one see y'. Damn anal boss, like t' see 'im try dis."

Remy still lay in the air ducts, he'd crawled to the room he wanted into but with one problem, the room was still occupied. For an hour he lay stretched out but somewhat cramped waiting for a chance to go in.

"Finally..." It was muttered beneath his breath. Maybe dey won' t'ink not'in' o' it if I lock de door? He really couldn't think of any other way to keep the occupants of the building out of his hair, for five or seven minutes that it would take him to collect what he came for. So walking back and taking a seat at the central computer, his slim gloved fingers typed away silently at the keys. The computer gave a beep indicating it's need for a disk. Remy slipped in a cd and waited the minute and twenty seconds for the data to download. A second beep, and Remy slipped the cd back into its little compartment in his belt, returned the screen to how he found it, unlocked the door and hoped back up into the air vents.

Remy made the long quite five, miles trek back to the side road where his black sporty harley lay on its side stashed in the ditch. It was one of the newer models he'd accidentally trashed his other coming around a corner to fast. Though it wasn't his fault, he was being chased by an anonymous looking blue sedan. Luckily, he'd been thrown into shrubbery and made a dash for it, but not before leaving the car and two people injured from the glock he always carried.

Dragging the bike out, he stood with the kick stand down, stripping off the jacket he wore to be replaced with the leather one draped across the bike seat. With everything neatly and securely strapped or tucked away in the bike bags on the Harley, Remy sped off into town.

At four am, not a whole lot was open but the all night dinner he sat in served strong coffee and sometimes that made all the difference. Waiting wasn't something that this Cajun born man did very well. Standing at six foot two inches, Remy weighed in at a hundred and eighty with a lean, muscled body. Shoulder length auburn hair with amazingly clear blue eyes, angular, fine boned, gorgeous face, with a charismatic charm that seemed to draw people to him.

Two Hours Later. . . .

"Could y' take any longer? I don' t'ink I drank 'nough flippin' coffee yet!!!" Remy's angry voice filled the van that was carrying them to the airport where a private jet awaited their arrival.

"Calm down, Agent LeBeau, there's no reason for you to be yelling." An older blond man said trying to reason with his upset teammate.

At the air port Remy rolled his Harley into the jet. "Dis tickin' y' off yet?" Remy knew that his obsessions with taking his bike everywhere drove many of his colleges insane.

Inside the jet was decorated with a complete computer system, variety of gear and six comfortable seats. A decal on the wall where the computers were set up read "Black Crows;" in short they were a spy agency working in cooperation with the government.

Remy LeBeau sat in one of the black leather seats and a very comfortable position, it'd be an hour before they arrived home. As his eyelids drooped close, his weary mind reflected through the years.

Growing up in New Orleans had been easy going, his parents linked to the thieve's guild, so at an early age Remy trained as a professional thief. But after years of going about a job that had become mundane and somewhat boring, he simply left. Somehow, still not sure now how it came about, joined ranks with the Black Crows. Counting back that had been four years ago.

A bit of turbulence hit the plane, only enough to stir the Cajun and it's crew, the soft rocking resumed and lulled Agent LeBeau to sleep.