Chapter Three. And Your Name Is?
Ahh, these halls have seen some action. Stan remarked, as he strode though the halls of the CIA. Terrorist sieges, Democrat executions, Cock fights and one huge beaver.
Good morning Mr. Smith.
Morning Mr. Smith.
Hello, Mr. Smith.
Terrific. Stan muttered to himself. All these people and I have no idea who they are.
He turned the corner and found himself at the Deputy Directors office.
Some great memories of this place as well. Stan remembered. Like the time we brought Heath Ledger in for questioning, and he accidentally died and we made it look like an overdose.
He pushed the door open.
Hello, Agent Smith. The secretary said, in a cheery mood.
Good morning. He replied. Is Deputy Director Atwell in?
He sure is. She said. Do you want to see him?
Nope. He answered. I was just checking he wasnt going to be anywhere near the cafeteria.
Any particular reason you dont want him near the cafeteria?
Well. Stan said. I was planning on getting the agents to plan a huge song for him in honour of his great service as Deputy Director, and I didnt want him to hear it. Im not sure when it starts, but well be there all afternoon. You wont tell him will you?
Of course not.
Wonderful. Stan said, as he left the room, and hid in a closet a few feet away from the door.
Three, Two, One.
Deputy Director Atwell came sprinting out of the room and in the direction of the cafeteria.