A/N: So, this fic is set about a year after the end of United We Spy. Assuming that I can keep up with it, you can expect plenty of unexpected twists and turns as well as plenty of drama. This is going to be one of those fics that I might only update every once in a while due to several factors, the new job that I'll be starting next week and the fact that I wrote this two months ago and since then my obsession with the Gallagher Girl series has calmed down quite a bit. Rest assured that I will update at least once a month. If I fail to do so, you as the reader have my permission to call me out. I'm going to aim to post an update every two weeks, but at times that may not be entirely possible. I ask that you bear with me, and more importantly ENJOY!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gallagher Girl series or any of the characters involved in the books. Ally Carter does, and she's done an amazing job creating such a dynamic network of characters, settings and plot.
Chapter One
The word "home" has a lot of meanings. Home can mean the place where you sleep every night and wake up every morning. Home can mean being wherever your friends and your family are. Home can mean your college dorm room. Home can even mean the spy school that you spent six years of your life attending as well as sneaking in and out of. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. I said spy school.
It had been a little less than a year since I'd walked the halls of the Gallagher Academy For Exceptional Young Women with my three best friends on the planet and my hot spy boyfriend. Of course when I left for Georgetown University in the fall after graduation there hadn't exactly been a lot of hallways left to walk.
If you have at least Level 4 clearance then you probably know all about the Gallagher Academy, about what it is and what happened to it last summer just before our graduation. We really never saw it coming, and by the time my friends and I figured out what my boyfriend's psychopathic mother had been planning, we were too late. The roof that had stood high over our heads for so long burned and fell, leaving ash and stone scattered across whatever remained of the foyer and Grand Hall. Gaping holes that were hundreds of feet deep littered the ground where floor tiles should have been. Even the oh-so secure Sublevels suffered the wrath of the explosion. The mansion wasn't the only thing that suffered, however. For the next week or so after our world literally came crashing down, teachers and students wallowed in sadness and hopelessness. To say that we were devastated would be the understatement of the century. It went on like that until graduation when a certain southern bell valedictorian reminded us that the Gallagher Academy was- is - as strong as its people and would surely rise again. They were right.
Around the beginning of July, building crews (made up of FBI, CIA and NSA agents, most of which were retired Gallagher Girls) started working around the clock on the Gallagher mansion to restore it as quickly as humanly possible. It really wasn't much of a surprise that the trustees and staff members insisted on classes starting back up in the fall as they always did. It wasn't like anyone could really blame them. All they wanted was some normalcy, or as much normalcy as a bunch of semi-retired spys could have.
It took just over a year for the construction to finally come to an end. A grand reopening ceremony was scheduled to take place during the Welcome Back Dinner on the first night of the new school year. One of my top sources told me that Gallagher Girls all over the world were dropping their plans (and missions) to be there. I couldn't be sure whether that one was actually true or not. Hey, even Tina Walters gets her facts wrong every once in a while.
A week before the ceremony was set to take place, I flew from Grandma and Grandpa Morgan's ranch in Nebraska to Roseville, Virginia, home of the everything I held dear. I'll never forget my mother's face as I stepped out of a limo (that I was pretty sure the Queen of England had ridden in on several occasions) and walked through the large wrought-iron gates that had kept our secrets and true nature hidden for over one hundred years.
"Cammie! Welcome home sweetheart," Mom yelled when I finally reached her. She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me so tightly that I was worried I might actually pop.
"I missed you," I said as she let me out of the hug, and I took the opportunity to study my gorgeous spy mother's appearance.
Her hair had gotten darker and longer since the last time I'd seen her, stopping halfway between her shoulder blades and her waist. Her eyes were brighter than I'd ever seen them, and I couldn't help but smile.
"I missed you too, sweetheart," she said, gently stroking my hair as another figure made its way down the mansion's long driveway. I looked from my mom to my former Covert Operations teacher feeling a strong sense of trust towards the man who would risk (and had risked) his life to keep me safe and more importantly, alive.
"Ms. Morgan," he said, nodding at me.
"Mr. Solomon," I said, nodding back. And then, I couldn't help it. I had to hug my stepdad. He seemed to have the same idea because our arms went around each other at the same time.
"Good to see you, Cam," he said softly while squeezing me tightly. For a split second, Joe Solomon looked and sounded a lot more like a father and a lot less like a well-seasoned CIA operative.
"It's good to see you too, Joe," I said, and I meant it. He was keeping my mom happy and safe, and that was all that really truly mattered to me. Matthew Morgan would have been proud of his best friend, I thought smiling. After that it took about 45 seconds for my spy senses to kick in, and that was when I saw it.
Allow me to reiterate the fact that I've spent six years of my life inside and around the Gallagher Academy For Exceptional Young Women. I could walk almost every hallway and almost every passageway inside of the Academy backwards while blindfolded (something I knew for a fact thanks to a massive bout of boredom that had set in a week or so before the start of my ninth grade year). But nothing in those six years of spy school prepared me for what I saw at the end of the half-mile driveway.
"Well Cam, what do you think?" I opened my mouth to answer my mother's question, but no words would come. I was literally shocked speechless, but not because it looked incredibly different. No, what shocked me was that it looked almost exactly the same.
Sure, there were some minor changes to the outside, like the fact that the mansion seemed longer, wider and maybe a little taller. Those small details made very little difference when overall it looked the same as it always had. I stood there for several minutes staring in awe at the reconstructed mansion while imagining to myself what the inside would look like. Finally, after I'd stared at it for what seemed like ages, Mom gave a light tug on my arm as Joe motioned for me to follow them.
As I followed my mom and Joe inside, I took the opportunity to think back to my first CoveOps assignment ever.
Notice things. And I did.
The foyer was just as I remembered it, but at the same time it was very different. Brand new stained-glass windows filtered sunlight into the large open space and I noticed how clean and smooth the banisters felt underneath my hand as I ascended the main staircase. Gillian Gallagher's sword sat in its usual spot, but it almost seemed out of place among all of the new floor tiles, walls and ceilings. While the new and improved mansion still felt familiar to me, it didn't quite feel like the home I was used to. At least, not before a feminine voice with a strong British accent said "You're late."