Easter Egg Hunt: A Christmas Story

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The red light on my portaphone blinked not quite in time with the few Christmas lights I’d strung to decorate my spare apartment. I answered, “Yeah?”

“Morgan. This is Capt. Phillips. We have an assignment. A big one. Code one. We need you to report to Command.”

“Oh, c’mon, Mark,” I said. “Cut the official bullshit. I’m a civilian agent now, remember? And it’s Christmas time, for crying out loud. What kind of mission do you need me for?”

“All right, Jake,” he said. “How would you like to spend Christmas in a Christmas card?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’ll find out when you get here.”

“And about that—why me? I’m not on holiday duty. I’m supposed to have this week off,” I protested.

“You’re the best.”

“Horseshit.”

“OK. The best that’s also single. Did you actually have plans this year, Jake?” He knew I didn’t. I never did. He continued. “What do you want me to do—send an agent with a family he could otherwise be with? All you’re going to do is sit on your butt in your apartment and you know it. This will do you good.”

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