Agent Rand In: Live and Let Wine
“Sir, can I help you find something?” asked the wine clerk.
Derek Rand turned to him, ice blue eyes narrow. “I’m looking for a very special wine for a very special lady.” The clerk was a little intimidated by the overdressed, overmuscled, over-growly super spy, but he wanted to help.
“Um… what kind of wine?”
“Well, it should certainly be something with an elegant mouthfeel,” Rand started, turning back to the wine rack and perusing as he spoke, “full bodied, but classy. Something itching to be uncorked, but still young at heart. Ripe.”
“Um… are you planning on eating something with it? It could help me help you-“
“No, no time for dinner. I have to be in Madagascar by 7 AM, Africa time. I need a wine that does well enough without food, even alludes to it, maybe something with a hint of strawberry to it."
The clerk wasn’t sure that “Africa time” was a real thing, but he did know which wine to offer the ignorant agent. He pulled the bottle from the shelf. “McClean Vineyards 2007 Private Reserve Estate Syrah,” he said.
“Shake it,” said Rand. The clerk was confused.
“What? No. It’s wine, not a –“
Rand’s eyes narrowed further. He took two quick steps and was suddenly in the clerk’s face. “Shake. It.” he growled. The clerk, adequately intimidated, gently shook the bottle.
“That’ll do,” Rand took the bottle from him, and walked off. His date went poorly, as he’d instructed her to meet him at “4 PM, Africa Time,” and she had no idea what that meant, but the wine was good all the same.
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