Bitter Sweet

AN: Hey guys, this is the first fanfic I've written in a while, it's my take on GG5 and GG6 (a mix between the two) mostly alternate endings to situations that occurred, just a bit of fun. Enjoy reading and don't hesitate to let me know what you think; review.

Prologue- Cammie's p.o.v

I stood in the middle of a heaving street market, a sea of people (equal part tourists and citizens) thronged around me conversing in different dialects and moving between stalls, the American embassy at my back. I was here. So was my dad. Somewhere. In the distance a couple held hands and strolled along leisurely passed stalls; careless and free. Things I wished I could be but undoubtedly knew I'd never be. Torrid heat, teased the people of Rome, the blistering sunlight refracting off the cobblestone paving and sun kissing a diversity of skins. I took a sip of the cappuccino I'd brought earlier (now cold) and wished I hadn't, it's bitter taste done nothing in the way of calming my nerves. I retched, coughing it back down. Maybe it was the taste of dishwater. Maybe it was the waiting. Or maybe it was both. One thing I knew, I wouldn't be buying another cappuccino in a while.

Then he was there walking towards me. To the untrained eye, he was a tourist, back-packing through Europe. So was I. He cursed under his breath; his shoes had been scuffed on the cobblestones and then despite everything – that had happened, that was to come- a small burst of laughter broke loose from lips. 'Agent Townsend' I said, closing the distance between us, after recovering from my bout of laughter. 'Miss Morgan' he replied and flashed the quickest of smirks. It was time.

Covert Operations Report

By Operatives Townsend and Morgan

Day 1:

We're here. We're in Rome. This is it. Operative Morgan has great enthusiasm towards her sources and intelligence so far. Our mission objectives at present: 1). Finish what operatives Joe Solomon and Matthew Morgan started. 2). Find missing operative, Matthew Morgan. Bring him home.

'Dead or alive' the thought a traitor, trespassed my mind; I could only hope it was the latter. Deep down I knew it was not.