By the age of five I was working undercover in the KGB as a double agent. It led to many an adventure, adventures I was quite capable of handling having trained in unarmed combat, weapon familiarity and advanced driving and bodyguard skills by the age of four.
On my sixth birthday my cover was blown when a three year old trainee agent forgot to remove his dummy during a secret rendezvous with the head of the secret police. Immediately they recognised the western branded Mothercare dummy rather than the jewel encrusted one made by luxury baby brand Suommo issued to all operatives to maintain a level of sophistication. In the ensuing gunfight I was forced to bundle the agent back into his armoured push chair and make good my escape.
It was not easy, they followed on all terrain Nipper Sports V3 push chairs in carnival red wielding twin Uzis and spraying bullets like a hosepipe. After taking two chairs out with baby bottles filled with wheel ripping spikes they switched to baby walkers with indestructible hard rubber castors. It made taking aim a little tricky for them but they were much faster than us and soon caught up. I disabled one walker after shooting out the metal locking pin on the from wheel, the walker came to a sudden stop and flipped twenty feet into the air and over the edge of a two hundred feet drop. It’s occupants shouted ‘Aieeeeeee!’ as it descended and hit the floor exploding in a ball of fire. I took care of the remaining gun wielding baby walker with a sharp turn I knew he couldn’t make on castors sending him careering into shop that sold kitchen knives. I think he got the point.
My cover blown I spent the next three weeks making my way back home to MI5 through the use of disguises. At one time I was a Bedouin Camel Trader, the next day a Travelling Salesman selling futons, it was hard but I made it back and was ready for my next assignment.
I was retrained for my next mission was to infiltrate a criminal organisation at the Moulin Rouge. For this mission I became a showgirl called Tally Ho, part of my routine was tassel twirling and kicking both my legs above my head at the same time. The hardest part was wearing the small thong and putting on the false eyelashes, pretty fiddly for a seven year old. It all ended horribly when my set of false breasts flew off during a vigorous pole dancing routine on stage and landed in the lap of the local criminal overlord, an eight year old with terrible temper tantrums who had terrorised the area for six long years. I wouldn’t recommend running in heels, neither would I recommend tassels as they kept hitting me in the face as I escaped from the now empty top half of my tight fitting catsuit.
I returned to MI5 in a downbeat mood and debriefed ‘K’ on the whole sorry episode. Luckily I was issued with a new set of falsies, a wig and a new name Leggsy Akimbo. I had a second chance!
THIS HAS BEEN AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEW BOOK ‘SHY SPY – PUSHCHAIR ESPIONAGE’ BY PETER SMITH AKA TALLY HO AND LEGGSY AKIMBO. AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD BOOKSTORES FROM MONDAY PRICED £12.99.