I finally discovered the hiding place of the Mysterious A, who has eluded the C.I.A for years. Someone had spotted A at an abandoned warehouse with the asset, that the C.I.A assigned me to retrieve. It came to the attention of the C.I.A when A put the asset up for auction—almost a year ago. Making sure we won was the easy part, now came the time to retrieve it and meet A.

I arrived at the warehouse. Shelves of books were set up in various positions. Some were dusty and old; others appeared to be fresh and new. I walked through the shelves to find A. A was a woman. She was sitting at a circular table, some distance from the shelves.

“Congratulations.” She said, laying the asset, a tattered notebook, on the table.

I walked over, reaching for the notebook. She put her hand on it.

“The deal isn’t done yet, A. Sit down.” I did as she asked. Her hand did not leave the notebook. She glanced around then back at me. ”Didn’t come alone, did you?”

“What else do you want?’ I asked, wanting to get the deal over with “You got your money.”

She chuckled, “That was part of the deal. I know the C.I.A wants me.” She sat back. “Tell your people to scram.”

I needed that book and my agents were all over the warehouse. A wasn't aware they were lying in wait to capture her. 

“Well?”

“You know that’s not going to happen—unless you do the same.”

She shrugged, “You’re not getting the book until you do. I’ll wait all day if I have to. “

I sighed. The book was of upmost importance. This has been my most important mission, and failure was not an option.

“No.”

She leaned forward, “How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as you have the book?”

"How do I know you won’t ambush me as soon as I leave?”

“I came alone.”  She replied, cocking her head at me. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” she asked, sitting up. “One of us isn’t getting out of here alive.” She wanted to cut a deal of some sort. “Can I ask you a question, A?” she added, her hand still on the notebook.

I sighed, “What?”

“Have you ever been to Australia?” 

That wasn’t what I had been expecting her to ask.

“We have the world’s deadliest animals. Oi, you should see what it’s like when kangaroos fight. The way they go at each other—“she paused. “It gets vicious; all over females, like you and me. You should visit sometime—what do you reckon?”

I leaned forward, “Is that a threat?”

She chuckled, “You’re the threat here.” That gave me an idea. “Quid pro quo. If you don’t ambush me—I won’t ambush you.” I put my hand out for her to shake. She ignored it.

“Sweet. On one condition.”

I waited for her next request. I made sure my agents wouldn’t attack her on the way out, before she revealed her last condition.

“Rock-paper-scissors for the notebook.” She replied, “Two out of three.” She put her hands in position and closed her eyes over the notebook. Attempting to grab it now would be suicidal.

I’ve been awful at rock-paper-scissors since Middle School. It isn’t exactly something that they teach you at Quantico. If I couldn’t get the asset, the C.I.A would fire me. At worst, I wouldn’t be in the field anymore. This would be the highest stakes game of rock-paper-scissors ever played; it couldn’t go wrong.

She opened her eyes, “You down for that?”

“Two out of three?”

She nodded, “Rattle your dags; I have to been in Melbourne sometime today.”

I put my hands in position and we both closed our eyes and did Round 1. We said, “Rock-paper-scissors—shoot.”  I landed on rock and she was on scissors.

“Luck.” She commented, as we moved into Round 2. I did rock, she did paper. “Not so lucky now, eh?”

“You cheated. I saw you looking.”

“You can’t stand to lose, can you? It’s two out of three.”

 In Round 3, we both landed on scissors. On the 4th Round, we both landed on paper.

“You’re cheating.” She accused me. “With the probability the next one will determine the loser.”

She was wrong about that. It took another 6 times—until I finally beat her with rock when she choose scissors. I let out a deep sigh of relief. She handed me the asset, “We’ll meet again someday.” She stood up and left the warehouse out the back door. I let my agents know that I had the asset contained and put the notebook into my pocket. I walked out the door, curious about what the notebook contained. The head of the C.I.A met me outside and asked for the asset. I handed it to him. He patted my shoulder and told me to go home for the night.

“What’s in the notebook?”

“That’s none of your concern, Agent. “ He put the notebook into his own pocket and drove away in his sliver Mercedes-Benz. Things seemed to be looking up. The mission didn’t fail. That was before I realized what was wrong—a little too late to fix.

The following day, the Head of the C.I.A called me to his office

“Explain this, Agent.” He handed me the notebook and ordered me to open it. The problem looked me right in the face.

“It’s blank.” I replied. A had been playing me, I realized.

“Do you know what it’s supposed to contain, Agent?”

I shrugged, “No, sir. I was never informed.”

He sighed, rubbing his head. “Secrets. So confidential I couldn’t let you see. Now it’s in the hands of some unknown agent who can sell them—one page at a time.” He glanced around the room and then back to me. “Finish the mission. No one has to know this one was a faux, you have my word.”  

I nodded, returning to my home that night. A sticky note was on my computer. It had a small kangaroo in the corner of it—along with the flag of Australia. Scrawled in fancy writing was four words: 

Ready for a Rematch?