condensed master

The Reluctant agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
but it was as though rigor mortis had set in. All his muscles, including those in his
face, had frozen.
The banging of the shack door shocked his system back to reality as a man
appeared running outside, carrying a shotgun. Will took off towards the cover of
the buildings, but not before he heard the roar of the gun and a sound that was
familiar to him, which were dozens of fast fizzing sounds of the lead shot as it
spread out behind him. Will had heard it many times before, during the pheasant
and partridge shoots, as a boy back in England. Now at top speed the distance
between him and the edge of the forest was closing fast, and looking behind, he
could still see the man running with his gun at the ready, but to Will's relief he had
not had time to let the dog out.
Within yards of the trees an instantaneous bang and a more intensive
cacophony of fizzing sounds erupted and Will this time, felt a biting sensation in his
left leg. He knew that he had picked up a stray pellet or two, but it was not
impairing his ability to run, and very soon he was amongst the trees. Getting
enough cover behind him Will stopped to inspect his leg, and found four reddish
marks, two in the lower thigh, and two in his calf.
Blast! I'll have to get medical attention before any poisoning sets in, and
starting to run again it seemed only minutes before the banks of Chesapeake Bay
appeared and Will drew a sigh of relief. He knew that all he had to do now was
follow the shoreline to his right, which would take him back to the ship.
The pellets in his leg were now beginning to sting, warning him of the urgency
to get back, but before he had time to move a large dog bounded through the trees
towards him and he recognized the breed as a pointer, or an American bird dog.
Will knew what he had to do to prevent getting bitten. Stand perfectly still,
show no fear, and try to exert some authority. But things were happening too
quickly as the pine needles scattered in all directions, and the dog nipped at his
trouser leg, tearing it as Will stepped back. Keeping his hands high he shouted,
"back, back!" as loud as he could. The dog moved back some three feet or so
with it's head thrust forward in typical pointer stance.
"Goddam it, he knows how to handle my dawg!"
Will looked up to see the farmer with his shotgun now pointed at him,
accompanied by the two elder M.P's, gorilla man and his associate, both with their
service pistols drawn. The farmer took charge of his dog and gorilla man spoke,
85