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Johnny B. Fast: The Super Spy

  Part 1

  By

  Tom Doganoglu

  This novel is a work of fiction

  Copyright © 2011 Tom Doganoglu

  Covert Art Mike Motz

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission by Tom Doganoglu.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Super Spies

  Chapter 2: Trouble at School and Work

  Chapter 3: Department X

  Chapter 4: Second Chance

  Chapter 5: Responsibilities

  To you, the reader: For sharing this world with me.

  Chapter 1: Super Spies

  Johnny Clunker was a normal and average boy. He was about average height and average build, he had average short brown hair, and a generally nice and normal average smile. Except that he wasn’t too normal or average as far as those words meant.

  He went to school, tried to do his homework, and did his best to fit in socially during the day. But at night, shy, weak, and timid Johnny Clunker became something else entirely.

  He became a super spy.

  He became Johnny B. Fast.

  He went on important missions to save the world, and they usually went better than the way this one was going right now.

  What a mess.

  The entire warehouse was surrounded by United Order spies with top of the line gadgets and weapons. It was a rundown, abandoned warehouse, probably used for some type of heavy machinery in the past. There was a partial second floor that looked down on a massive layout of scattered crates and boxes, forming makeshift hallways and rooms. Perfect places for hiding. Nevertheless, this was going to be harder than usual. Johnny looked through his night vision goggles, trying to find all the spies’ patrol routes.

  It was his birthday. Johnny Clunker, or Johnny B. Fast now that he was undercover, had just turned fifteen years old. This was not a good thing. Johnny didn’t like birthdays, they were filled with bad memories about bad things that happened to him when he was thirteen. Johnny B. Fast tried to push the thought out of his head.

  He forced himself to pay attention to the sentry posts and their routes around the building.

  Maybe he had been wrong, this shouldn’t be too hard.

  But they sure had a lot of spy agents guarding the warehouse tonight. It would probably take only one of the best spies in the world to be able to snatch the United Order’s Super Chip right out from under their noses.

  It would take a super spy to get this Super Chip.

  Super was an important word in his business. When you got as good as Johnny was, they didn’t just call you a spy, they called you a super spy. And when you were after a Chip as powerful as the one Johnny was after tonight, it wouldn’t do the Chip justice to call it a regular Chip.

  Johnny sighed; he hoped he could live up to the name super.

  What a mess.

  The radio in his earpiece went off with a burst.

  “B. Fast? You okay?”

  Johnny whispered back, the microphone in his ear would pick up his words.

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he hissed, with a bit more nervousness than he wanted to admit.

  “You haven’t moved from your position in ten years.”

  That was Agent Ackers, the most sarcastic field operative anyone could ever hope to have helping them. He was assigned to be Johnny’s ears, eyes, and nose when he was on missions. And if you asked Ackers, he would also add brain to that list.

  Agent Ackers was in his early twenties, and always stayed back at base where he was safe. He was really skinny, and constantly seemed to have a bunch of pimples sprouting up all over his face. He was very sensitive about his skin condition, and claimed that was why he always stayed back at base.

  But still, Ackers was in his twenties, so at least he had somehow survived fifteen. Something Johnny hoped to do tonight.

  “Are you still there?” Ackers hissed in again.

  “I’m just checking out where all the sentries are.”

  “That’s my job; it’s your job to get the Chip. Now there should be two more guards in front of you, and three directly below them on the next level. I would recommend being highly stealthy, or taking them all out with a loud bang,” Ackers advised.

  “Those two options are completely opposite from each other! How can you recommend two choices that are so different?”

  “It’s my job,” Ackers informed.

  It was his job to be annoying, thought Johnny.

  “Now which one is it going to be?” Ackers continued.

  “I think I’ll choose the stealthy option,” Johnny said.

  After all, that was the more spy-like thing to do.

  “Hey! You there! What are you doing?”

  From out of the corner of his eye, Johnny could see that he had allowed a guard to sneak up on him while he was talking with Ackers. That type of thing usually didn’t happen to him. It’s just great having a birthday, he thought.

  The guard was wearing all black, covered from head to toe in a Shadow Guard uniform. There was a circular insignia on the left side of his uniform that meant the United Order, which also meant bad and evil.

  The Shadow Guard uniform had a unique ability to bend light and make the wearer appear to be invisible, but it drained a lot of resources and was generally not used, making the Shadow Guards stand out more than they intended to blend in. Johnny always wanted to point out the irony of the uniform to the guards, but he didn’t think now was the best time.

  “Guarding the Chip,” Johnny said instead, trying to answer the guard’s question.

  Johnny wasn’t wearing their uniform, so his response was a little suspicious.

  “I’ve never seen you before,” the guard responded, raising his gun and pointing it at Johnny.

  Johnny slowly got to his feet.

  “I’m with the second division. You’ve probably never heard of us because it’s our job to not only guard the Chip, but also to make sure the first division, which is you guys, are doing their job properly. We do our job best by making sure that you guys don’t know we’re doing our job when you’re doing yours.”

  The guard got lost in Johnny’s rambling.

  “What second division?”

  “Ah, you see?” Johnny said triumphantly. “You’ve never even heard of us. We wouldn’t be very good at our job if everyone in the first division knew the second division was watching their every move.”

  “There is no second or first division!” the guard said angrily.

  Johnny looked distraught.

  “You mean you don’t even know you’re in the first division? What division did you think you were in?” Johnny asked.

  The guard wrung his hands in frustration.

  ”There are no divisions!” he hollered back.

  Johnny winced at how loud the guard was being. He was pretty sure that he could take down one guard pretty easily. He could probably even take out two, three with the help of some of his gadgets. Okay, maybe even four or five with the help of some of his really advanced spy gadgets. Johnny had a really high opinion of himself, but he wasn’t sure if he could take down every guard in the warehouse singlehandedly.

  At least not today; it was his birthday, after all.

  “There are always divisions,” Johnny instructed.

  The guard looked confused.

  “For instance,” Johnny continued his lecture while the guard kept the gun pointed at him, “right now you are on one side and I am on the other. It’s a good thing you have a gun, because that at least helps…”

  Johnny stopped talking.<
br />
  Lightning quick, he stepped in close and to the side of the gun, karate chopping a specific nerve on the guard’s neck.

  Johnny caught the gun as the guard dropped it.

  “…to try and even the odds,” Johnny continued.

  The guard fell to the ground, stunned, but still conscious.

  “See? Without the gun you would have had almost no chance.”

  “You talk too much,” Ackers chimed in through the ear piece.

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “I can’t help but hear every word you say. It’s one of the hardest things about my job, and the source of my extremely large therapy bills,” Ackers informed him with an exaggerated sniffle.

  “You don’t have to pay for your therapy bills,” Johnny said.

  “Still have to make the time,” Ackers quipped back.

  “Don’t blame your skin condition…” Johnny tried to add, but Ackers beat him to it.

  “Can’t talk about that. Off the record.”

  “How come you get to pick what’s always on or off the record?” Johnny asked.

  “That’s also my job.”

  Right, thought Johnny.

  He kneeled down beside the still conscious guard.

  “Anyway, the moral of the story is: you were right the first time, there is no second division,” Johnny informed the guard as he knocked him unconscious.

  “Did you knock him out with that neck nerve pinch thing?” asked Ackers.

  “Yup,” Johnny lied.

  “One day you’re going to have to show me how you do that.”

  “Nope, super spy secret,” replied Johnny. “I’m going radio silent now.”