Short Story: Max Carnage, CIA

CIA agent Max Carnage stood in an elevator watching the numbers over the door descend. The CIA’s hiring policies only allowed them to recruit agents who were over six feet tall and unnaturally good-looking. Even disguised as a janitor in a frumpy blue jumpsuit, Max was worried his broad shoulders, strong jawline, and chiseled features would give him away. 

He was leaving the office of the notorious CEO Avery McGuffin. The CIA had reason to believe that McGuffin was selling super weapons to a terrorist organization. 

Max’s mission was simple: retrieve McGuffin’s briefcase and deliver it to his contact outside the city. 

Retrieving the briefcase had been easy—too easy. It was sitting unguarded on McGuffin’s desk. The words A. McGuffin were inscribed on the side in silver script.

The elevator finally opened onto the lobby. Max stepped out and walked casually toward the main entrance. Then, the Main Street doors opened and in walked Mr. McGuffin himself. He was surrounded by a mob of grizzled security guards. They scowled at everyone they passed. 

Anyone else would have panicked but not Max. He planned for this. His heart didn’t even quicken. 

He kept casual as he made his way toward the door. As he walked by McGuffin, he could feel the cold eyes of the security guards scanning him. One of them growled, but Max kept walking, avoiding eye contact, acting natural. 

He let out his breath as he placed his hands on the lobby door handle. 

That’s when he heard McGuffin’s voice. “Stop!” 

Max stopped. He turned around to see Avery emerging from the swarm of body guards. 

“Mr. McGuffin,” Max smiled. “What an honor to meet you, sir!” 

“I’ve never hired anyone that attractive,” Avery stated. “He’s a spy. Get him!” 

The swarm charged. Max was starting to seriously question the CIA’s hiring practices. 

McGuffin’s goons drew their weapons and fired. The CEO swore as they continuously missed, hitting glass windows and ornamental vases instead of Max. He was currently questioning his own hiring policies. He made a point to hire security guards with bad aim so that they would be incompitant if they ever turned on him. The trouble was, they were also incompitant when working for him. 

Several cars idled in front of the building as they dropped off and picked up passengers. Max threw the driver out of the nearest taxi and took off down the street. He was in the heart of the city and the narrow roads were packed with cars. Max plowed through them, sending all vehicles in his path flipping off the street and onto the surrounding sidewalks. 

McGuffin’s goons followed behind, commandeering three vehicles. They swerved to hit any cars that Max missed as they gave chase.

Max swerved around a corner onto an alley, flattening a group of pedestrians. Looking ahead, he noticed two of McGuffin’s cars blocking his path. 

This was it. 

He was cornered. 


He looked to his right at the floor to ceiling windows of the office building beside him. He turned the wheel, hit the gas, jumped the curb, and crashed into the first floor sending glass and cubicle walls flying everywhere. 

Workers dove out of the way as he hit the acceleration and flew across the open floor before crashing out the windows on the other side. Avery’s goons followed suit, being careful to flatten the office workers that Max missed. 

As Max sped up the freeway to meet his contact, he noticed that Avery’s men were once again on his tail. He couldn’t deliver the briefcase until he lost them or he risked exposing his contact’s identity.

The highway branched ahead of him, with the right lane exiting through a tunnel. The tunnel was the answer. Max was in the left lane and the tunnel was approaching fast. He jolted the wheel right, and skidded across four traffic lanes just in time to take the exit. 

By some miracle, he didn’t collide with any other vehicles. However, Avery’s people were not so fortunate. Two of their cars crashed into a gas truck causing a glorious explosion. One managed to slip by and pursued Max through the tunnel. 

Max pulled a grenade out of his pocket and removed the pin with his teeth. He chucked it over his shoulder into the tunnel just as he emerged. The whole thing collapsed, crushing Avery’s men and everyone else unfortunate enough to be there at the time.

Max was free. He met his contact at a park on a hill that overlooked the city. 

The contact was an older man, sitting on a bench watching the smoke billow up from the freeway in the distance. He smiled when he saw Max, took the briefcase, and shook his hand. 

“Well done, Agent Carnage,” he said. “America’s a safer place because of you.”

Special thanks to Joe for coming up with “Max Carnage”, the world’s best action hero name.

Published by Katy Campbell

Katy is a little broken in the head.

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