When you watch a movie like the Bourne Identity or Ronin, you suspend your disbelief. There are spies out there. Spies that fight like ninjas, dodge bullets, and can outthink a pack of hungry jackals.
No one ever thinks that they will come across these people in real life.
Ireland is known for having a few pubs. A funny thing happens in these pubs. People drink.
Sometimes, they drink too much.
So maybe there I was, sitting outside a pub, drinking perhaps. And maybe there were two grown men, dressed in business attire, possibly smashed beyond coherence just a few pubs down. The one man might have started singing while the other used his head to prop up a wall.
This might have a normal evening out, had it not been a clever ruse.
Something alerted these men. Was it a gesture from the woman in the café across the street? Was it a signal from an unknown man barking orders through an earpiece? Had the package been delivered?
“Ready.”
“Ready.”
“Move out.”
Guns drawn, the two men cover each other and move down the street. Alerted to some unseen danger, they deftly fly from cover to cover, communicating and searching for targets.
“12 o’clock.”
The man who apparently lacked the strength to support his head dive rolls behind concrete stairs. His partner peers around from his cover.
“All clear.”
Danger abated, the men stride down the street as if nothing happened.
Could this have been a false alarm? Could this have been an international incident narrowly missed?
It could have been.
However, your pointer finger is devoid of ammunition, stumbling is not he the new striding, and dive rolls should not look that painful.
They definitely drank too much, but bless them for it.
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