November 2019- 75 Word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO MOSAIX!

[Cat's Cradle]

Stop, Please – I’ll Tell You Everything

Yevgeny scanned the dossier: Frenchman; captured near Red Square; weapons schematics. He hummed the birthday song.

He reflected on the overwhelming sadness of his childhood birthday memories, ruined all by his horrible voice.
At parties when he’d joined the singing children, they’d wept at his screeching accompaniment; parents sagged, many later divorcing.
Candles unextinguished, hopeful wishes died.

“Yevgeny, it’s urgent – we need all his associates.”
He entered the cell and began howling that infernal composition.

 

[Pedro Del Mar]

Don't believe the hype.

The rain was unrelenting. It had been that way for hours. A constant heavy downpour. The view of Dam Square from the bar of the Krasnopolsky was blurred by the running rainwater. A myriad of coloured umbrellas dashed across the Square. Cyclists dodged puddles and rang their bells warning the umbrella’d masses of their hasty approach.
The man sat patiently and watched, occasionally sipping his coffee. Surveillance wasn’t the best way to spend your birthday.

 

[Culhwch]

The Gift

The wiretap crackles.

‘Comrade. You there?

‘I know you are. You always are.

‘I’m tired, comrade. And too old for this game.

‘I had a family, once. They’re dead. Long dead.

‘I blamed your country. I know, now, mine was just as guilty.

‘It’s my birthday today, you know. But I’ll give you a gift. Memory card, second drawer.

‘Use it. End this war.

‘Hurry. You won’t have long to retrieve it.’

A gunshot.

Static.

 

[Shuffle093]

Extraction

Quietly leaving his room, Evan crept down the corridor.

Intel had two guards in the room next to his, now sound asleep. While the package was hidden in the guest room.

He’d planned this operation perfectly.

Creeping into the room he found the cupboard and slowly, quietly, worked it open.

The package lay inside and he tore it open with giddy excitement. Only to find that the mission had failed.

He’d wanted the new Playstation.

 

[RJM Corbet]

AGENT X

Do you swear to tell the truth to this court?

I do.

Please explain what you do.

I am an undercover agent for the Thought Police, your honour.

Do you recognize the accused?

I do.

Tell the court who they are.

They are all members of a local underground sect.

Tell the court what you witnessed on December 25th of last year.

They were illegally celebrating a birthday.

Whose birthday?

Of their deity, your honour.

 

[Star-child]

You Are Cordially Invited to Attend Timothy Sinclair's Ninth Birthday Picnic

Colonel Orsisa swallows his cake, “Hadthmeier, this buttercream is superb.”

The security chief nods; it was a fine party all around: Elegantly wrapped favors, an ice Mother Goose, guests in their picnic best.

Orsisa looks out across the lawn where the children played, “I take it the target was not in attendance?”

“Sadly, no.”

All the brightly dressed guests lie still on the ground; red now the predominant color.

“What a shame. A lovely event.”

 

[scarpelius]

A timekeeper agent must choose the lesser evil

Yesterday was the boy's birthday. I've lit a candle in my mind and tried to keep it up. I wished for him to make it.
My task is to protect the best timeline. Franz Ferdinand is still young and unaware that his death will bring a horrible war.
The boy I watch is playing outside. A window opens and his mom call him:
"Gavrilo, dinner is ready!"
WWI must happen! The alternative is unspeakable.

 

[Tywin]

The Latest Assignment from the Kremlin Has Its Perks

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes, yourself, Mr. Jones.” Mischief touched her smile.

“Madame Ambassador, you make me blush.”

“I’m old, not dead.” She sipped her champagne. “How do you know my husband?”

“I’m a junior partner… He probably wouldn’t recognize me.”

“You’ve crashed the boss’s birthday party? Very naughty, Mr. Jones.”

He leaned in close. “Will you keep my secret?”

“If you’ll keep mine… Would you like a tour of the house, Mr. Jones?”

 

[Vince W]

Birthdays Are Torture

“Papers.”
“Yes, they’re just here.” Looking down briefly Dafydd never saw what hit him.

-

“I’ll ask you again. Who do you work for?” A fist lashed out.

Dafydd groaned. He’d been told to hold out for three days. How many days had it been? Feigning nausea Dafydd scanned the table. Through swollen eyes a communiqué gave the answer. He’d been taken February 28th; it was now March 3rd. Four days. Happy Birthday to me.

 

[M. Robert Gibson]

Fleming's Finest Fictional Fellow Falls Foul of Fiendish Foes

Opening the office door, Bond stepped into the forbidding darkness. The room, though black as night, left him unfazed. Creeping forward, a cough caused him to falter.

"Good evening, Mr Bond. We've been expecting you."

Lights flooded on, followed by a fusillade of small explosions.

Flinging himself to the floor, Bond found himself festooned with confetti, facing a fearsome foursome: Scaramanga, Le Chiffre, Goldfinger, and Blofeld.

"Surprise!" chorused the felons, firing further festive party poppers.

 

[Elckerlyc]

On Her Majesty’s Sleeping Service (Act 1)

“We have hacked SPECTRE’s network. Well done, Q!” M almost smiles.
Q grins, “The fools set Blofeld’s birthday as password today.”
You’d be a fool, I think, believing such convenient stupidity. What had made Q try something so improbable and... unsophisticated?
M blinks, “You know Blofeld’s birthday?”
“Well, I got this anonymous….”
“Sir!” cries Moneypenny, “Wannacry hijacked our system! It demands [Classified]!”
I’m horrified, “Bond’s...?”
“Wannacry MUST be terminated,“ interrupts M. “Go, Double-O’Elck. NOW!”

 

[Hugh]

A Wish Fulfilled​

“I hate birthdays and I hate spies” frothed the President, failing to notice the shadow looming behind him and the piano wire descending around his neck.

“Happy Birthday, Mr President” sang the shadow.

“Ahh! He’d always wanted that sung to him!” smirked the majordomo. “Now let’s call the Veep”, he continued, completely unaware that everything was being clandestinely monitored by the spy satellites of seventeen different countries, most of whom were singing along in unison.

​

 

[johnnyjet]

The Secret Code

"Yay! We're in!"

"Shh! Start looking for it."

"What are we lookin' for again?"

"The vault."

"Oh. Ah, behind that picture I bet."

"Too obv… Oh, nice job. Now let me crack the code."

"I'll check his Facebook page."

"Huh?"

"His birthday is 3-25-50. Try that."

"Okay. Why not?"

"Hey, it popped right open. High five, pal."

"Wait. This thing is ticking. It's booby-trapped! Run!"

"Damn you, Mark Zuckerberg."

 

[Starbeast]

Agent Sasha Silverfox
in
"CAKE FALL"​

Limousines tumbled, then exploded behind Sasha's spy car. Her faithful husky dog, Sniffy, operated vehicle gadgets.

"Machine gun armed motorcycles, pursuing us."

Sniffy activated rear car flamethrowers.

"You got them. Now to the Cathedral."

"Woof."

#

Bolting into the Cathedral, she shouted, "Cardinal Fang! Don't blow out those candles!"

Fang couldn't hear her over the crowd noise....BOOOM! Everyone was covered in cake.

Silverfox frosted, "Too late."

Cardinal Fang staggered out, "Cough, cough. Best, birthday, ever."

 

[Heijan Xavier]

Love is Poison

Slipping away from the party, she sat him down and watched carefully as he finished his drink.

“I love you,” she whispered. She wasn’t necessarily lying; it was nice pretending to be a normal girl, even for just a moment.

“I shtill haven’t given your preshent Shvetlana,” he slurred, as his eyes rolled back.

“You’ve already given me everything Senator,” she sighed, then took the microfilm from his pocket as she kissed his lifeless forehead.

 

[Parson]

“The Spy Who Wanted to Come in from the Cold”​

“It’s as cold as Siberia!” Illya Kuryakin mumbles as he shivers on wet ground in the sleet.

Surveillance log:

One hour: “Nothing to report.”

Two Hours. “Nothing to report.”

Three hours: “Nothing to report.”

Four hours:

Totally miserable; Illya prepares to leave. Slowly someone steps out for a smoke. The sleet changes to pouring rain.

“дрисня! I’m stuck here for hours! Happy Birthday to Me!”

 

[chrispenycate]

Centenary construction

Single shot disturbs migration
Of insectoid manual workers
As illicit information
Trickles from the mouths of talkers

Murd'rous aristocracy
Greets the New-Year's first rotation.
Commoners must break and flee
Bloody flood of celebration.

City become abattoir
Silent, withholds respiration
Hoping more populace to devour
Blowing candle-lives negation.

Pull the ribbon, lift the wrapper,
Centuries of sin releasing.

Growth limited by wrung-road bridle
Antiquity defined and coddled.
Population agglomicidal
Dream wrecking balls old slums remodeled.
​

 

[HazelRah]

The Surprise

He lowered his binoculars. Someone was moving through her apartment.
Sniper rifle loaded, and sweat beading on the back of his neck, he focussed. She had to be protected at all costs, that was the order. And she’d be home any minute.
The door opened and she flicked on the light.

The party popper went off like a gunshot. Multicoloured streamers floated through the air, as the man she loved fell to the floor.

Oh...

 

[LittleStar]

Wishes


Amber traced the recipe; adding eggs, butter, scrapped a chair along tiles for the sugar. She wiped her cheek. Flour moistened; dried hard.
Would her wish still work if she lights them?

She woke, stopping the cake burning too black. Crumbling, but strong enough to hold nine candles.

She needed him more than His Majesty’s Service!
Now it was just another day.

But footsteps crunched gravel. He smiled with a ready-made cake in hand.

 

[Abernovo]

Crossing Lines


The ambassador′s voice was clear in the headset.

″I′ll be late, dear. Trade show.″

″Okay.″

Who says SigInt is boring?

Samira entered. ″Sir, your car′s ready.″

″Thank you, major. Take the day off. It′s your birthday.″

#
​

I met Samira at the prearranged spot. The kiss was soft, promising. I hoped we′d live to enjoy more.

#
​

The cultural attaché was waiting.

″We wish to defect, and have proof both our countries are flouting international treaties.″