Lost in Magadan: Extraterrestrials on Earth

A few hours later, they found themselves in a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant that advertised an all-day breakfast. A walk down Atlantic Ave led them to many different local shops and venders. The place was crawling with cops, like the city was preparing for a riot or something. They ended up in a beachfront bar listening to a local musician playing Caribbean music. They found a seat on a second story deck overlooking the boardwalk and the ocean.

“What would you like to drink?” Mike asked, “coffee, Vodka?”

“I’ll take a sex on the beach,” she replied with a seductive grin.

Mike laughed, “I think I can arrange for that.”

“No silly, that’s the name of the drink,” she touched his arm as she giggled.

I think I really like this guy. I hope the Master is not going to kill him, or worse.

The waitress came out wearing a light blue polo shirt with an embroidered emblem of a palm tree over her left breast. She had khaki shorts, tennis shoes and her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, “What can I get you two?”

“Why do they have so many cops all over the place?” Mike asked the waitress.

“Pst,” the waitress blew air through her lips and rolled her eyes. “The city is a bunch of totalitarian assholes. They just want to arrest locals, and even tourists sometimes, to raise revenues for the city.”

Mike frowned and said, “Well, that doesn’t sound very nice of them. I thought maybe they had received information that a riot was about to happen, or something.”

“Nothing like that. I promise you. I have worked on the beach for five years. It’s this way every summer. You don’t have anything to worry about as long as you don’t piss off a cop.”

“Wow, okay. I’ll make sure I don’t piss off any cops. Thanks for the advice. I’ll take a soda and she will have a . . .” Mike’s voice trailed off.

Mike glanced over at Nikita, looking for help. She smirked at him.

“Sex on the beach,” Mike finished the sentence.

The waitress looked offended. “Oh my!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. She started laughing, “I’m just kidding. Of course, we have that.”

Mike and Nikita laughed at the waitress’s good humor. She then took their orders and disappeared back into the bar.

“I have had so much fun with you today,” Nikita said, shielding her eyes from the bright sun light.

“I’m here for the rest of the week,” Mike said.

“I know. I hope to spend most of it with you.” Nikita adjusted her chair to avoid the direct sunlight to her eyes.

“Don’t you have to work?” Mike asked.

“Maybe a little, but I have some time-off saved up.”

A strange sound blared from Nikita’s purse. She pulled out her cell phone and checked the screen, “I have to take this.”

“Of course,” Mike replied.

Nikita rushed off, down the stairwell and out onto the crowded boardwalk.

“This is Nikita. We are on an encrypted line,” she said into her seemingly normal cell phone. She glanced back at the two-story bar and grill to make sure Mike had not followed her.

“Do you still have the package?” asked the raspy voice that she knew to be Calidus Delusor.

“Yes, the package is under my control. What would you have me do with it?”

“How long do we have?”

“To do what? I have not been told what my objective is, only to keep the package in sight.”

“How long until the package is returned home?” asked Calidus.

“He will be here for another eight days. What is my mission?”

“You need to turn him,” Calidus Delusor said flatly.

“Turn him? Are you kidding me? I have not been trained on how to turn an asset. He may kill me, or have his men kill me,” she protested.

“He has men? How many? Are they professionals?”

“Yes, he doesn’t know, but I spotted them following us back to his hotel. They are keeping a distance, but they are constantly following us. I think there are two on his security detail. From what I can tell, they seem to be well trained.”

“You need to determine if he would be willing to defect. I need to know what he wants, so I can offer it to him.”

“If I fail?”

“Failure is not an option. If you fail as a spy, you will have to learn to how to be an assassin quickly,” Calidus warned.

The line went dead.

Shit. I’m not a spy. I’ve never flipped an asset. I take pictures of things and forward them to the bosses.

She had never met the Master, but she assumed he was some sort of alien, nothing like the handsome Mike Evans. She walked back to the bar and up the stairs. Mike was still sitting in the same seat where she had left him, staring into a tall glass filled with ice and cola.

“Everything okay?” Mike asked.

“Oh yeah, it was just work. They had misplaced a file,” she lied.

I hope the Master does not ask me to kill Mike. I don’t think I could do it.

“Do you have to go in?”

“No, they gave me the rest of the week off,” she lied again.