The phish you don't want to catch
Nick Davies is the top black ops agent within the CIA’s mysterious Special Operations Counter-Terrorism Team.
Warning: Like a movie preview, this character introduction includes sections from the story that contain minor spoilers

With an IQ off the chart, the deadliest eye with a gun, elite Krav Maga skills, and fluency in Arabic, Farsi and Spanish, Nick is more than a secret agent – he’s the CIA’s most efficient and effective dealer in death.
Nick knew he was expected to wait in the background once the fighting began. The Agency regarded him as too valuable to risk himself unnecessarily. When bullets started flying, Special Operation agents' primary role was advisory. They were there to direct the action - Delta or Seals did the grunt work. That was how it was supposed to go.
However, that never had and never would work for Nick. And he was sure the Agency knew it. Every time he left on a mission, he returned with blood on his hands. And over most of his uniform.
So, no one was surprised when Nick was amongst the extremists before they knew what was happening, his two razor-sharp hunting knives slicing and piercing any flesh they could reach. He wouldn’t use his firearm, though not for fear of giving his position away; he wanted the joy of feeling his weapons steal the life force of his stunned victims. He knew where their vital arteries were vulnerable. And he loved the slight shudder they gave as the hard steel he wielded penetrated their brain matter.
Seven seconds later, six brutalized bodies lay motionless in the reddening dirt.
The only downside for Nick was that it happened too fast for him to savor the experience.

With his six-foot-infinity, barrel-chested, muscular physique that’s always impeccably attired in a navy-blue Italian business suit and expensive black leather shoes, Nick regards himself as a good guy, a wise guy, and definitely a “ladies’ man.”
Nick stepped up to the bar where the lady in red was waiting, watching him with alluring eyes that demanded he draw closer. His heart started racing when she shifted to pose in a provocative stance that emphasized her generous curves as her red-polished fingers sensually stroked the stem of her empty cocktail glass.
‘Congratulations, Mr. Punto,’ she said with a sultry whisper as Nick caught the strong scent of some flower he didn’t recognize. Nor did he care.
All that matters is she smells dee-licious.
‘So, did you want to buy a poor lady a drink after robbing the Grosvenor before their very eyes?’
Nick had already noted the gold smartwatch and sparkling jewelry she wore. The red woman was closer to the high-end of town than the poverty line.
‘And what does a poor lady like to drink?’ he asked as he stepped close enough to feel the gentle press of her breasts. He was rapt when she didn’t step back but merely smiled at him.
And then, she leaned into him a little more, pushing her chest into his as she provocatively suggested, ‘Maybe we can discuss that back in your room, Mr. Punto?’
However, Nick’s nothing of the kind … he’s angry, short-tempered, incredibly sexist, and always up for a fight.
Nick had heard enough of Casey’s verbal diarrhea.
‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, you stupid woman?’ he yelled in a voice loud enough to drown out his boss's detestable tone. ‘Do you know who I am? I’m the heart and soul of this operations group – not you, you pretentious poodle.’
Casey merely turned her head to the right, held up her left hand, and emitted a loud ‘shoosh.’
Nick angrily protested. ‘Are you serious? After all the times I’ve saved your flabby ass, you’re doing this? You witless, ungrateful moron!’
Casey wouldn’t turn to look at him. She merely repeated her ‘shoosh’ command.
Nick wished for the millionth time that his first Special Operations boss, Carlos Silva, could return from wherever he had disappeared.
Now he was a man’s man. And, boy, could he fight.
Casey’s shrill voice jarred Nick back to reality.
‘Because of your supposedly brilliant intellect, upstairs think you could be useful working on internal projects. I tried to convince them that you’re simply an old relic and a danger to our future. But, for some inexplicable reason, they believe you are still valuable and can give the cyber team real-world insight into their current project. So, you’ve been transferred to the Cyber Special Operations Group for six months, effective immediately.’
When Nick emitted a menacing growl and stepped toward Casey, she pointed to the video camera in the top corner of her room and continued with an overly cheerful voice.
‘Come on, Davies. Have a go. Prove to me yet again what a mindless meat-headed man you are. This is just too good. Your shallow male ego is easier to trigger than I thought.’
When Nick stepped back, she smiled.
‘Yet again, you disappoint me. However, I’ll make sure Doctor Browning watches the silent video of your performance today. And to be clear, you’ll see him as soon as you leave my office. He’ll complete some psych tests to see if we can make your desk role permanent. And I assure you, He-Man, I’ll be pushing for that.’
‘After the good doctor has evaluated you, report to your new boss, Garry Whyte, head of C-SOG. Garry’s leading a top-secret project the Agency thinks you could help with, God knows how. However, I’m sure you’ll love sitting at a desk for eight hours a day, five days a week. I know I’m thrilled by the thought of it. Well, off with you.’
And with a flick of her pale, bony fingers indicating Nick needed to leave, Casey leaned forward and studied her computer monitor. She was making it clear – her time overseeing Nick Davies had reached its finale. Who he was and all he’d done in the Counter-Terrorism Special Operations Group meant nothing to her.
After mouthing off a few final choice insults and kicking over the two visitor chairs, Nick slammed the door shut and stormed downstairs.

There’s one thing Nick can’t stand … any clown foolish enough to get in his way
‘You’d better shut your whingey trap before I do, you little asswipe.’
Nick held his face a mere six inches from the bald buffoon beside him in the second row until the tenacious toad stopped his slobbering and looked away.
It was bad enough that Nick was returning to DC, a place he would never call home, despite his sister living there. There was no way he’d also endure the overweight clown next to him saying one more time in that annoying nasal voice, ‘So, you still haven’t told me why you’re going to DC, Mister.’
The thunderclouds gathering inside Nick’s head grew in density and darkness when the blonde flight attendant named Jenny bent down and delicately whispered, ‘Excuse me, sir, but I need you to refrain from using that tone toward your fellow passengers.’
Nick glared at her, staring intently into her kind green eyes. Jenny tried holding his gaze. However, the fire in Nick’s eyes was too hot for her to handle. As soon as she looked down, Nick pounced.
‘Well, Jenny,’ he almost spat in a detached voice. ‘Maybe you should tell this dipstick seated next to me to stop sticking his nose into my business. If you had just done your job to start with, I wouldn’t have had to be so direct to force it inside his fat head.’
… and that goes for anybody!
Both guards turned to Nick’s position with their guns ready to fire as Nick launched himself through the air. Nick knew he would reach his target as soon as he pushed off. The fifty-million-dollar question was always going to be: how good is the Aussie’s reaction?
The man was faster than Nick anticipated. The gun fired from three feet away.
However, fast was not enough – the Aussie had to be better than Nick in other ways.
He wasn’t.
Ignoring the deafening roar in his ears as the bullet sailed harmlessly over his head, Nick performed what Rugby fans call a crash tackle.
The guard never stood a chance. His knees buckled, and his body slammed backward into the ground. He was helpless to stop Nick as the CIA’s deadliest field agent released his grip, pushed with his arms, and rolled in one smooth movement.
Swiftly regaining his feet, Nick dragged the stunned Australian into an upright position so Nick’s torso was protected from the second agent’s line of fire.
When Nick’s other hand appeared, it held the Aussie’s handgun.
One shot and the other agent collapsed, his right knee shattered.
There is one exception. It’s the only person Nick will do anything for … his younger sister, Lucy
Nick scanned a packed Dulles Airport for the only person in the world that mattered. However, he couldn’t see Lucy anywhere – it had been that long since they’d met in person. It wasn’t until she screamed out ‘Nicky’ that he noticed her desperately pushing her way through the crowd.
Nick’s mind flooded with a million memories. He’d forgotten how stunning his sister was, though her vary-colored, short, spiky hair and the full-sleeve tattoo on her left arm startled him. Despite being in her thirties, Lucy was turning heads more than ever. And it was not merely the hot-pink tee and mid-thigh denim skirt she wore that emphasized her curves. Lucy still carried the magical presence that reminded Nick of his mum. It made people stop and subliminally demanded that Lucy became the focus of their attention.
Drawing close, Lucy paused when she surveyed Nick’s scarred face, her radiant smile turning to shock in a flash. However, it was a mere instant before she resumed her frantic run to wrap her arms around him.
Hesitantly, he responded, slowly enfolding her in his arms. He felt her melt at the gentle physicality of his embrace. Nick’s anger and hate disappeared for a moment, replaced by overwhelming tenderness and sorrow for the best friend he’d lost many years ago. His eyes began to moisten – something that hadn’t happened for a lifetime.
Nick swiftly steeled himself, reminding himself of why he’d returned.
And why I’ll have to leave.
After a hug long enough to encapsulate the thousands he sensed she’d longed for over the last fifteen years, she stood back and stared into his eyes. Her full, crimson lips trembled as tears slid gently from her large, blue eyes.
‘Welcome home, bro,’ she said in that distinctive husky voice.
Nick stared intently into her eyes, pleading for their long-lost connection to be re-established as their souls tried to traverse the gap of a million hours apart. He saw the hurt in her eyes, a pain he’d made worse by leaving his younger sister for all those years. Nick wanted to hold Lucy close and tell her he would never leave her again.
However, it was a promise he couldn’t fulfil. The hatred still burned too intensely within him.
And there’s one thing Nick wants no one to discover … his little secret.
Unfortunately, it’s a secret that will put the entire world a few steps from catastrophe.
Because the Phisherman knows what it is.