Jack Everyman, Lego Agent - Part 1

An aeroplane approaches an airport runway. Nothing unusual about that, you might say.

But by saying that, you would be implicitly precluding the possibility that the plane contains a very unusual passenger.

You should be more open-minded.

In fact, the plane in question is carrying this man. His name is Jack Everyman. Doesn't look particularly unusual, does he? Look at him, in his sharply-cut blue jacket and perfectly coiffed hair.

Probably fancies himself a bit, wouldn't you say?

Don't be so judgmental. Jack Everyman serves this country as a secret agent. He regularly risks his life to gather the intelligence that keeps you safe in your bed at night. And yet here you are forming critical opinions of him based on his choice of clothes.

How superficial of you.

Jack is in town to meet with his colleague, Angela Branch, at the docks. Angela is working undercover with a criminal gang with terrorist leanings.

Together, she and Jack are going to bring them down.

Jack is retrieving his specially-modified secret agent briefcase from the luggage trolley. He looks a little distracted.

Perhaps this is because Jack has more than his physical baggage to concern him. He also has emotional baggage.

You might even say that he has something to declare.

You see, his colleague Angela Branch is also his fiancée. But Jack has cheated on her.

He slept with another woman.

Perhaps you're judging him again. But remember, Jack is an unusual man. Unfaithfulness is tolerated, even encouraged, in Secret Service circles. Perhaps by your narrow understanding of morality, Jack is a wretch. But by the standards of his peers, he has done nothing wrong.

Nevertheless, Jack's manners are so impeccable that he feels an slight sense of guilt for his actions.

And there you were, ready to denounce him as callous.

Jack heads for his designated locker and retrieves his mission documents. He finds a letter.

Dear Jack, the letter reads,

Look forward to seeing you at the docks and totally kicking some criminal terrorist ass.

All my love,

Angela

As you can see, Angela has a fondness for crass Americanisms. No wonder Jack has to sleep around.

But who is that shady character in the motorcycle helmet watching our hero's every move? It goes without saying that Jack has spotted him. He's a trained secret agent. Perhaps he's just playing it cool, pretending not to have noticed.

Jack has made it out to the parking area to pick up his car. It's the kind of vehicle that ordinary people like Jeremy Clarkson fantasise about driving. Look at it: sleek, aerodynamic and - crucially for espionage work - painted an inconspicuous shade of yellow. A philistine would probably think it was a prissy chickmobile, but Jack exudes a confident masculinity that deflects the sneers of bigots.

And he still hasn't given his masked pursuer the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. He must have seen him, though, surely?

Of course he has. He's a professional.

Oh, good grief. There's been an explosion.

A highly convincing, no-expense-spared explosion.

Perhaps somebody missed some intelligence somewhere along the line. It was almost certainly the fault of some low-ranking civil servant. All the best laid plans, and what have you.

Could have happened to anyone.

People are screaming. All very unpleasant. Jack knows what to do, though. He can't risk blowing his cover by stopping to help.

I suppose you think that if you were in his shoes, you'd personally ferry the victims to the hospital. Well, begging your pardon, Florence Nightingale, but Jack's car is a single-seater. And it's only just been cleaned. He's got no choice but to proceed to the docks as planned.

He's got to administer a taste of justice to a gang of criminal terrorists, remember?

That miscreant on the motorcycle is still hot on his tail, though. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he had something to do with all the explosive unpleasantness.

Before too long, Jack arrives at the docks. Somewhere along the way, the man on the motorbike disappeared into the traffic. Jack probably shook him off with some fancy driving.

Jack is introducing himself to the harbourmaster, Will Levett. Naturally, Jack is working undercover. He's pretending that he works for the Chamber of Shipping so that nobody suspects that the harbour is under attack from killer murderers.

He certainly doesn't mention the plane that's just blown up. That would be tactless.

Levett is blissfully unaware that he's been given the privilege of touching somebody truly special. He can probably sense it, though. It must be like shaking hands with God, or Ewan McGregor.

That euphoric smile says it all.

Levett takes Jack on a tour around the docks, accompanied by two of his finest workers.

He says that there is a very valuable crate at the docks today. It contains an item of monumental cultural significance, apparently. Could this be what the criminal gang is after?

Seems quite likely.

Levett takes Jack to see the dock's dedicated police station, where he meets Chief Inspector Salmon. The policeman says the dock is always very quiet. No major incidents for ten years, he says.

What a deluded fool. If only he knew what Jack knew, then he'd know that his low crime figures were about to be substantially disrupted.

Any minute now, in fact.

[Click here for Part 2]