Winning Entry for 1/27, by Lazarus

Assignment: Write a story involving a new year's resolution.

"Sometimes things don't turn out the way we expected."

Spence Gordon slid into the quiet British pub and sat down on a bar stool. “The usual, Charlie.” he said to the bartender.
"Here you go." the bartender said as he handed Spence his usual, a lager beer.
"Ah - thanks."
Spence took a swig and sputtered.
"What do you put in that - soap?"

“He puts strychnine in it.” another patron of the bar said, his eyes twinkling.
“Hello, Fitz.” Spence said, nodding to him.
“Still at your secret agent work, Spence?”
“Righto.”

Spence wiped his mouth and leaned his elbows on the bar, staring up at the bartender.
"Did you make a New-years resolution, Charlie?"
"Yup - to hire a new bouncer. Moe couldn't pitch a flea out of a dog pound." the bartender growled.
“I made one that I would stop picking up stray hounds.” Mr. Fitzhugh commented.

"Mine was that I would find this IRA terrorist: Tommy O‘Dale.”
"I've heard bobbies talk about O'Dale. He's a bad 'un." the bartender responded.
“He‘s a ruthless terrorist.” Spence said grimly. “Bombings - robberies - kidnappings.”

"But we finally caught up with him.”
“How?” Charlie asked curiously, polishing a glass.

“Well, three MI6 agents were kidnapped in Belfast several days ago.”
"One of the agents escaped and phoned MI6 the location of the place he’d been held.”
"The man behind the operation was Tommy O'Dale."

"We went in - captured the whole bunch. One of his men talked - told us where Tommy was hiding out...”

He pulled a silenced Walther PPK out of his jacket and set it on the bar.

Charlie looked down at it and then raised his eyes to Spence.
Spence stared coldly back at him.
“Hello - Tommy.”
“You aren’t with MI6, are you?” Charlie-Tommy asked.
Spence shook his head. “Nope - I’m an assassin. A little girl got paralyzed by one of your bombs. That little girl’s father happens to be very rich - and very angry too.”

Mr. Fitzhugh watched the two men with appraising eyes over his glass of wine.

“Now I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you.” Spence told Tommy, raising his gun.

“Can I have your lager?” Mr. Fitzhugh asked, reaching for it.
“Get your hands away from that!” Spence said irritably, slapping his hand with the PPK.

As Spence turned towards the old man, Tommy quickly ran out the back door.
“He’s getting away!” Fitzhugh yelled.
The assassin dashed out, his gun raised. Behind him Fitzhugh gulped down the lager.

A black Audi raced past Spence with Tommy at the wheel.

He took careful aim at the back tyres and fired once - twice - three times.

He missed.

The Audi swerved around a corner and was gone.
Tucking the PPK into his coat, Spence ground his teeth in a silent snarl of rage.
“Well, you did it.” Mr. Fitzhugh said, walking up beside him.
“Did what?” Spence snapped.
“You broke your New-years resolution. Cheers!” and with that the old man tipped his hat and walked away.