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By Marcus L. Rowland
Dad thought another arrest would kill any chance of joining the FBI. It turns out they sometimes need agents prepared to cut corners. Strictly off the record, deep cover, "disavow all knowledge of your actions," yadda yadda. A few years of that, then they move me to a normal career track.
First step is training; not Quantico, of course, too public - a base in the mountains. Unarmed combat, marksmanship, tradecraft, everything needed to turn me into Agent Mars.
There's only one thing puzzling me; why the hell do they want me to learn about an obscure Italian artist called Rambaldi?
End.
Comments please before I post to archives.
Later Now posted to Twisting the Hellmouth as a round robin - and someone has already added a second chapter!
http://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-18208/MarcusRowland+Agent+Mars.htm