The call came in at 6:00 AM. “Oh, great,” I thought, rolling over and pulling a pillow over my head. I tried to fall back asleep. I tried pretend I couldn’t hear the ringing. But, within minutes, I answered up my phone, which was sheathed in an ultra-sturdy Atomic Slim case.

“Good morning, Agent. We’ve got a lead on Hemmingsford,” the voice said. I perked up as soon as I heard the name “Hemmingsford.” Hemmingsford was a multi-billionaire who had spent decades scamming consumers, embezzling money, and generally being a jerk. When he found out that The Agency was aware of his crimes, he went into hiding, but I was determined to track him down.

The operator from HQ continued. “He’s hiding out in the English countryside. The Cotswolds. I think he’s staying with a friend in an old manor. Very picturesque, I bet. Quite a quaint, lovely area… anyway. I’m going to send you the coordinates. If we send you a helicopter, how quickly can you get there?”

“One step ahead of you, boss,” I replied as I finished buttoning up my shirt. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Six hours later, I was being pushed out the third-story window of an English manor house, which wasn’t looking so picturesque at the moment. Hemmingsford’s trio of flunkies had somehow managed to get me by my ankles, and they were now dangling me over the over the windowsill, making threatening comments in their counterintuitively cheerful Cockney accents. I clutched my phone to my chest.

“Just give us the data, mate,” one of the flunkies insisted. “Turn over the data and your little problem will go away.” They didn’t really care about hurting me. They just wanted my phone, which contained all the information they wanted about our investigation into Hemmingsford’s misdeeds.

Obviously, I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I took a deep breath and let go of my phone. It tumbled through the air, smacked into a tree branch, and landed hard on the ground beneath me. As I had expected, the flunkies lost their minds at the thought of my phone’s destruction and momentarily forgot about me, so I wriggled out of their grip and somersaulted through the air, then landed flat on my feet.

I brushed myself off, then bent over and picked up my Google Pixel 2. Ah, yes – just as I had suspected. The phone was in perfect condition. Not a single scratch. The heavy duty rugged Atomic Slim case saved my mission yet again. I smiled to myself, pleased at how easily I tricked the flunkies. Maybe I hadn’t gotten to Hemmingsford this time, but with my training and the Atomic Slim’s sheer strength, I knew I would catch him soon. And in the meantime, I was determined to hunker down with a nice big plate of fish and chips.

Designed by Ghostek in New York

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