Three weeks ago I was a delivery driver.

Seriously.

Then out of nowhere some weird suggestion trigger planted in my brain like three years ago kicked in (in the middle of a delivery, no less) and twenty-four hours later I was in a bunker in the middle of nowhere with a training instructor kicking my ass on the daily and no idea how I got there.

Which brings me here, hiding behind a glossy Audi taking up two parking spots, in the bottom level of a parking garage in some city I can’t tell you about or else I’d have to kill you.

Which I guess I know how to do, somewhere in my backbrain, if what they tell me is true.

I’m Miguel Sanchez. I guess you might say I’m an international man of mystery. So much mystery I don’t think my brain has fully caught up to my present situation.

Which is: it’s hot, and stuffy, and I feel an almost uncontrollable urge to sneeze. Which would be very unfortunate, given that I’m attempting to hide conceal myself using my super secret spy skills from another not-so-friendly international man of mystery who probably wasn’t a delivery driver four weeks ago. In point of fact, he was probably killing puppies and beating the shit out of old ladies, while drinking a martini and driving his Aston Martin.

A real hardcase, in other words.

I’ve got my back against the Audi, resting on my toes, with my head ducked down just beneath the bottom of the passenger side door, when I hear a tiny sound. It could be a footstep. It could be a bird landing on the roof of the car and preparing to send me a lovely surprise, but I bet on a footstep and before I really register what I want my next move to be, I’m shoving off the car and somersaulting forward just in time to avoid a crowbar smashing into the window just above where my head was. The window shatters, and the garage is suddenly filled with the outraged shrieks of the Audi’s alarm system.

I come to my feet in a smooth roll, much to my surprise. I crouch forward, balancing on the balls of my feet, and I see him (her? Could be, I’m egalitarian like that) quickly recover from the smashing of the window, turning his/her stagger into a lunge in my direction. I launch myself forward and tackle him around the waist. Being that I had my weight behind me and I was coming in low, I smashed him against the Audi, which gave a groan and continued to wail.

I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I needed to finish this quickly, as the car alarm would quickly draw the Audi’s owner, or worse, the coppers. Remembering the crowbar in the hardcase’s hand, I tried to work my way around behind him in some kind of submission hold, but not before he swung it at an awkward angle to clip my ear. I reached up and caught his arm on the rebound, but was at a loss on what to do next…until suddenly my body just reacted on its own, did some kind of fancy martial artsy type of move, and suddenly I had him in a headlock and the crowbar was clattering to the ground.

That. Was. COOOOL!

As I’m busy congratulating myself, naturally, he slams his head back into my teeth. My world goes white, my lip gets caught between his scalp and my tooth, and blood gushes into my mouth. My hold loosens, and after my vision clears, I see he’s gone. And he took the crowbar.

I cast a quick look around to make sure I didn’t drip any blood on the ground, and then I hightail it out of there before I have to explain things to the angry Audi owner. I have a feeling that me and the androgynous wo/man of mystery aren’t done yet.

Not by a long shot.

Another week, another Cursive Verses post! This week I choose the first prompt, 1, 2, 3…Action! My first time writing any kind of action sequence, so forgive me if it’s lame. Click here to see the prompts, and click here to see the awesome posts from other writers!