Porter Island Chapter Four (standard:adventure, 3273 words)
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Jun 02 2024	Views/Reads: 337/218	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Ace agent Betty McCloud, alias Amanda Thornton, comes out of retirement to face her biggest challenge yet, and she's not getting any younger.

Chapter Four 

Betty glanced out the window and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw
the towers of Porter Island's suspension bridge loom eerily through the 
mist. Tension had hung in the air throughout the journey. Stapleton 
aloof as befitted her role, but also simply being herself. Betty had to 
admit to her intense annoyance that the position suited her to a tee. 

Soon, Miss High and Mighty would have her hauling her baggage out of the
trunk, that was if Hands didn't offer to step in. However, previous 
knowledge of the man would suggest he'd take the opposite approach, 
that of being as contrary to her as he could and no doubt enjoying the 
sight of Betty's baggage handling. So, in effect, her work would be cut 
out from the start, having two antagonistic colleagues. 

As the limousine crested the mile-long bridge and began to descend,
Betty could see the island's outline through the mist. “Godforsaken 
place, you have to wonder why they deemed it a top priority,” Stapleton 
mumbled, arm on the armrest and fingers tapping furiously on the 
leather, and then turning to Betty, “don't envy your job.” 

Nor do I. But Betty's unvoiced thoughts weren't centered on the
assignment at hand but rather on her two colleagues. 

Exiting the bridge, they hit the two-lane highway that bent its way
through clusters of evergreen oaks and then swung east, skirting the 
island's main shopping precincts before veering off onto a narrowing 
single-lane asphalt track. Metal gates loomed through the bars of 
which, on the right, the colonnaded frontage of the colonial property 
stood pale and intimidating in the diminishing light. 

A slim, dark-clad figure appeared from inside the gates, which swung
open, revealing an asphalt drive leading onto a sweeping crescent. 
Hands pulled outside the huge twin alabaster colonnades, got out, and 
opened a rear passenger door for Stapleton. “Bring my luggage, Hands,” 
she ordered, and then, with a dismissive wave of her hand, instructed 
with a haughty glance at Betty, “and don't worry about McCloud's; her 
muscles are no doubt bigger than yours.” 

Betty took it as the slight it was no doubt intended to be but bit back
a retort. If the mission were to be a success, then the temptation to 
throttle Stapleton was to be resisted at all costs. 

Collecting her luggage from the trunk, Betty followed Ted Hands up the
broad limestone steps, Stapleton already having swept ahead, nose in 
the air, no doubt to inspect the staff. 

Stapleton had indeed summoned the staff to stand before her, and as
Betty crossed the foyer into the passageway, she swung around. “The 
maid will show you to your room, McCloud, see that you're back 
forthwith. 

“I think you mean housekeeper,” Betty corrected calmly, receiving and
ignoring a withering glance from Stapleton. “It's okay; I'll take my 
luggage,”  Betty said, gesturing to the housekeeper to go on ahead as 
she followed up the broad central staircase. 

Turning left at the second-floor landing, they joined a wood-paneled
corridor, passing a number of doors on either side before the 
housekeeper stopped and pushed one open. “This is your room, Miss 
McCloud.” The housekeeper glanced around at the expansive interior, 
featuring an ornate walnut writing desk, a four-poster bed, and a couch 
and coffee table. “I'll be in attendance should you require anything 
during your stay. The tall, willowy, grey-haired woman paused, clasped 
her hands together at the waist. “I hope you don't mind me saying so, 
but it's an honor to meet you. You're a bit of a legend in the service. 
You're said to be incredibly strong. “I'm Janet Jacobs.” Jacobs held 
her hand out, and Betty took it. 

“So they say.” Betty shook Jacobs' hand. “But we'll keep that to
ourselves, eh?” It didn't do for someone to go spouting to all and 
sundry, even though she'd plans to power dress at the forthcoming ball 
the FBI had organized. She knew the effect she had when doing so and 
that her physique and general appearance would totally eclipse 
Stapleton. 


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