Izzy: Tajni Agent

He smiled and tossed the rook into the air. She didn't flinch. She let it fall, roll across the floor, and stop at her feet. Then she kicked it back.

"You're giving it to me," she said. It wasn't a question.

Izzy adjusted her scarf. In this light, she looked like a weary journalist. A flicker of movement reflected in her spoon. Two men, eastern European build, ill-fitting suits. They’d been following her for three blocks.

Amateurs , she thought.

The Collector’s face drained of color. For a long moment, neither moved. Then he laughed—a dry, defeated sound. "They say you’re a ghost. A whisper in a crowded room."

Her mission, should she choose to accept it (she already had), was to retrieve a stolen memory chip hidden inside a cursed, antique chess piece. The piece was about to change hands between a corrupt Interpol liaison and a Balkan arms dealer known as "The Collector."

"And what do you actually know?"

She bit into the chocolate. Another mission over. But somewhere in Vienna, a locked briefcase awaited. And Tajni agent Izzy was already planning her next disappearing act.

She gazed at the rain-soaked city lights below. "That the real chess move isn't capturing the piece. It's convincing your opponent to hand you the board."

Izzy unwrapped a piece of dark chocolate—her only vice. "I didn't. But a good agent makes the enemy think she knows everything." tajni agent izzy

"Where's the rook?" she whispered. Not the chess piece—the meeting point.

Here’s a short story featuring the character Tajni agent Izzy (Secret Agent Izzy). An Izzy Undercover Story

"Why would I do that?"

She left money on the table and slipped into the back alley. The rain muffled her footsteps. When the first man rounded the corner, she was gone. When the second looked up, he found her hanging from a fire escape ladder, upside down, her silenced pistol pressed to his temple.

"I prefer 'strategic listener,'" Izzy said, cuffing him with a polymer zip-tie. "Now, about that pawn…"