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Case Histories

A DG agent is a person of many talents. Some of our more literary-minded agents have contributed these short stories, fictionalizing their own field operations into a form more suitable for public perusal.

Angel, Chapter 6: The Most Merciful Thing in the World

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Oh Rose thou art sick The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy” –Blake, “The Sick Rose” *** “So, Gracie, tell me w
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Angel, Chapter 5: Reptiles of the Mind

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak Who ’twas cut thy tongue and ravished thee.” –Shakespeare, Titus Andonicus Sometimes, Maria felt that she spent more time in hospitals than out. Ahmed had been mauled terribly, but he would
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Angel, Chapter 4: The Child

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Yet helpless it lay like a Worm In the trembling womb To be moulded into existence” –Blake, “The Book of Urizen” *** “Keep not thou silent, O God; hold not thy peace, and be not still, O God.” She was less than a ye
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Angel, Chapter 3: The Song of the Jubjub

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Soon my Angel came again: I was arm’d, he came in vain” –Blake, “The Angel” When she looked at Linus, she couldn’t help thinking of Humpty Dumpty. Agent Laura sat by the bed, her hand resting on his upper arm. His f
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Angel, Chapter 2: Lyca Lost

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 It was a weekday morning, but school had just let out for the summer, and as she waited in the shadow of the Popeye statue in front of City Hall, Maria Dolores Villanueva was enjoying that feeling of almost-illicit joy, free from school with three months of
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Angel, Chapter 1: Psychotic Opera

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “As flies to wanton boys, are we to th’ Gods, They kill us for their sport.” –Shakespeare, King Lear *** Agent Laura buried her face in her hands. Tired, so tired. She’d received the email while flying in from Hawaii–Luke
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Angel, Prologue: Tiger

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Did he smile, his work to see?” –Blake, “The Tyger” *** It always went back to the Old Man. Every flash of beauty and violence, every truth and innuendo, behind them all was that enigmatic smile, the curiously accented French,
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Scorched Earth (Jaundiced Eyes, Part 3)

“But when you reach the end…?” “It’s like….” “Yes?” “It’s like… sometimes, it’s like there’s a hole in my mind. Like… where memory used to be, just this empty, gnawing… hole. And you mother
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lesserdark (Jaundiced Eyes, Part 2)

By Shane Ivey, (c) 1998 “‘How am I doing,’ he says.” Officer John Vitelle, hefty and dark, chuckled derisively and tossed a newspaper to the floorboards. “What,” said his partner, a thin balding man named Douglas Nee, turning the wheel of their squa
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Blacker than Black (Jaundiced Eyes, Part 1)

By Shane Ivey, (c) 1998 Panama, 1986. A soft wind rustled through jungle leaves. The night was clear but moonless and black with swirling mists, and all the stars were dark past a fog-obscured canopy of trees. The air was close and humid and hot. Unseen bat wings flapped, dry and leat
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