A/N: The first chapter of my new fan fiction is finally here! As always, I do not own the Gallagher Girls series - Ally Carter does. The only thing I own is the plot, so yeah. Please read and review to tell me if I should carry on with the story!
Being called over to the USA for a mission was a big thing. As I walked into the private meeting room, I felt all eyes on me - the youngest person ever to be accepted into Her Majesty's Secret Service. I'm known as Edward Townsend of MI6, the real life version of James Bond. I've been on various covert missions in the three months I've been hired - all succeeding in whatever goal was set. I'm not bragging or anything, it's just the truth. The truth - something most spies aren't willing to admit to, but I'm not one of them. I'm a realistic person (well, partially pessimistic. There's no point in sugar-coating the fact that someone will die) and that's what keeps me alive and well; that's what makes me so good.
"Agent Townsend, so glad you could make it." greeted the man I knew as 'The Director'. He was in his middle thirties and wearing a grey suit - his light brown hair gelled down to look more professional. "Do take a seat." he said, gesturing to an empty chair next to a young woman.
I sat beside her and smiled, trying to make a good first impression. "So what's your name?" I asked the woman.
"I go by many names. It really depends who you want to meet." she replied, dodging the question.
"What's your name at this moment?" I tried again, intrigued at how she chose to handle the situation.
She paused and thought carefully. "Abigail Cameron, CIA agent and Gallagher Academy graduate." She seemed a bit young to be in the CIA, around eighteen at the most. It was unlikely that she'd be hired so young unless she was a talented field agent. Her face had a healthy glow which complimented her green eyes, her dark hair framing her face well. She had quite an athletic, yet feminine build and could probably beat me in an arm wrestle (note to self: test this theory out).
"Great to meet you, Abigail." I said, offering her my hand to shake. She shook it daintily and smiled back at me. I looked at what she wore: a button up blouse with the top button undone, a short black skirt and a pair of knee high boots.
"Having fun checking me out?" she laughed, letting go of my hand as I quickly turned to face the Director, "You're actually not that bad yourself, your eyes are really striking. Plus your accent is kinda cool."
"Why thank you." I replied, smirking at how easy it was to get on her good side. She seems nice and all, but how will she fare in the mission?
Another person came into the room silently - his shadow alerting me to his presence. "Solomon, you're late." sighed the Director, picking up three identical files and passing them to us. "No matter. It's time to brief you on the mission I'm sending you on." He put on a pair of glasses and leaned forward on the desk, suddenly serious. "There is a major drugs cartel in Buenos Aires right now and we're sending you in to stop them. It's better to keep them alive, but a few casualties will be tolerated. You must get to the core of this problem and shut it down for good. All clear?"
We all nodded as we looked through the information in the file. It was quite basic stuff - a profile of the head of the business we were going to take down, a short list of safe houses near the location and a detailed blueprint of their base. I was the first to get up, opening the door for the others. Abby was courteous enough to thank me, but the latecomer didn't even acknowledge my existence.
"So who are you exactly?" I wondered out loud, staring at the man. He seemed quite an average guy - dark hair and green eyes, medium build, about six foot. He did, however, look as if he'd been in many fights previously - faded scars on his skin barely visible in the light. From what I could see, they would soon disappear completely as he had applied some sort of scar-removing cream.
"Like the Director said earlier, I'm Solomon, Joe Solomon. You mustn't be thatgood of a spy not to recall that." he taunted, walking ahead of us, "Plus, I think I should really be asking that question to you, British boy."
"I'm Edward Townsend. MI6 agent." I stated, partly offended by the way he spoke to me and how he hadn't heard of me before.
"Interesting name you have there." he snickered, an air of arrogance surrounding him. He turned around, walking backwards, facing Abby and I, "Anyway, you ready to set off?"
"I know I am!" Abby chimed in delight. She skipped towards Joe and started to talk about something of no interest of me (although I did listen to every word they said). She touched his arm lightly and I instantly knew that there was something between them. The way she acted around him was resembling a flirtatious teenage girl, which, in actual fact, she was. I don't know why, but I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of him at that moment. She looked back to see me following behind slowly, my hands in my pockets, and asked in a concerned tone, "Townsend, you're ready to leave, right?"
"Do you even need to ask?" I said confidently, raising an eyebrow. I picked up my pace to catch up to them and we suddenly stopped at a retinal scanner. It led to the hangar - I knew this because I had 'borrowed' the building schematics two weeks ago whilst looking through important files. We went through the complex, yet familiar procedure of standing perfectly still and having a red laser scan our eyes, then we all stepped into the bright room. Scattered in an orderly fashion was thirteen different types of planes. In the centre of it all was a small private jet that would take us to Buenos Aires. We stepped on-board with our pre-packed luggage (I brought mine with me on the way here - a small bag filled with the essentials, i.e. clothes, weapons, etc.) and sat down, ready to face whatever was at the end of the flight.