Agent Reid Novels & Stories

he hissed, turning toward the presence. The shadow stepped forward. Pale skin like porcelain, eyes blacker than night itself, and a presence that made the air feel too heavy to breathe. “I am what waits at the end of your kind,” the figure said, voice deep and hollow. “You were given years you did not deserve, Clark.” “What the f*ck are you talking about?!” Clark spat, backing away. “Get out of here—this is none of your business!” The Reaper tilted his head. “You stole her breath. Now, I take yours.”

Harlan Reed stepped through the door. Late fifties now, maybe older - his eyes still miss nothing, just like back then when I was small. Handling my parents' affairs years ago, he kept everything quiet, never spoke more than needed. I contacted him recently using an encrypted line, didn’t explain much. No probing words from him - only that he’d be here. We shook hands. No small talk. Across the table went a heavy envelope. It moved without a sound. A few steps waited on the page. Following them came naturally once you saw how each part fit.

I ended the call and began my walk to the docks. When I got there, he was already with some of the men there. And a new face that I hadn’t seen before. “Kane. This is Mr Smith. Mr Smith, the one and only Reaper King,” Mr Smith looked like how most men in the business world looked. Short. Stocked up. Covered with so much jewelry and wiry eyes that gave the impression he’d sell me his mother without blinking. “Reaper. I’ve heard so much about you.” I put my hands in my pockets, my eyes staring at the crates behind him. “Are those the shipments?”

I said: “I know a great deal about you. I knew your name before you photographed me. I knew your closure rate, your conviction rate, the year you retired, and the fact that you do not take notes. I have known these things for some weeks.” Doyle nodded slowly, as if I had confirmed something he had already assumed. He said: “And I know yours. Took me a day and a half after the sidewalk. Marcus Reed. Arbitr AI. The man on the magazine covers about the ethics of catching bad men with computers.” He turned the coffee cup a quarter-turn on the table. “That’s a hell of a thing to be on the cover of, given the rest of it.” “Yes,” I said. “It is.”

She rarely interacted with anyone until the following Monday morning at work. She would not be missed for days. Strolling over to the sideboard, he tossed a few ice cubes into a crystal glass and poured himself a generous three fingers of bourbon. He was anxious to return to the compound. Reid despised these business trips that forced him away for months at a time. His clients paid a premium for fast and efficient results. He was already behind schedule after the last girl failed to live up to her potential. Reid flipped open the file resting on the polished wood surface and stared at the glossy photo paper-clipped to the top as he took a sip of his drink, soothed by the cold burn as it slip

Not only were they rogues, they had the audacity to operate on my turf. "Boss," Reid said in greeting, but he wasn't fooling me with that smirk. If there was someone I trusted with all my life, it was Reid. He is my friend, my Beta, and vice president of Grayson Corporation, where I am president. "Who are you fooling?" "Not you." He smiled and sat down without invitation. "You need to be present for the takeover." "Of course. Where would I be if I wasn't witnessing history being made?" "You're right."

“Let me guess, it has something to do with Edgar Duncan.” Gavin Caleston’s heavy breath from the other side seemed to confirm what Hagen had thought. The name Edgar Duncan was a taboo topic. He didn’t know how many people the man had harmed. Not only Hagen or Camellia—there are probably dozens of other people out there. “Levi Reid almost lost his entire fortune just because of that **** guy.” This time Hagen was stunned, Levi Reid’s name was very familiar. The man was a mayor in Denver and one of the confidants of the Red Cage organization. It’s only natural that Gavin Caleston, who is a member of the organization, feels angry.

I asked aloud, my feet now shuffling restlessly against the rugged floor. "I'm sorry, man. Whoever did it had thought about everything carefully," Reynold said, and I could hear the tiredness in his voice. "Hmmm," I said thoughtfully before adding, "I'm going to send you a contact who's going to help you. His name is James Furry, he's an FBI agent." I told Reynold, sending him James' contact immediately. The line went dead.

Hugh had commented to Alpha Armstrong on more than one occasion that they would have made good Reivers had they not been human. Hugh found the number of the C.E.O’s direct line and pressed call. “Mr Crozier, how may I be of assistance this fine Sunday?” drawled the soft Edinburgh accent. “Mr Ridal, I need you to find somebody for me.” “Email me what details you have on the individual using the usual channels, do you just want an address or full disclosure?” Hugh thought for a moment, if he was going to pay for this service he might as well get his money's worth. “Full disclosure if you would.”

He threatened him, "Now scram." Asher gritted his teeth and glared at me. Meanwhile, I hid before the broad back of the stranger. Asher left while stomping his feet and when the stranger turned around to face me, I saw concern on his face. "Are you okay?" His sharpness in his voice dissipated, replaced by the softness. He looked like a completely different person. "I am." I glanced at my wrists where there were visible signs of his marks, "Thank you." He smiled, "I am Henry Reid, soon going to be a Minister of Information and Technology." He introduced himself and pulled out the business card from his coat.