My name's Josh Conlon. On the surface, I'm a normal 14 year old boy on the surface. I like music, I tell jokes and I have fairly normal friends. Something about me isn't normal, though. The fact is, I'm a spy. I have been since I was eleven. I didn't enjoy it as much as most people would. It wasn't big action filled missions most of the time. In fact, it was very rarely anything but surveillance. Surveillance included setting up cameras in a target's hotel room and filling out reports on the findings. I had at least one every month, and they usually included me jetting off to another country. I enjoyed that bit for the most part, but I did miss my friends some of the time. They, of course, had no idea of his secret occupation. They couldn't, he wasn't allowed to tell them. He had signed the Official Secrets Act to stop him from doing that. It hurt him not to be able to tell them. Whenever he had to go away, he told them he was in hospital. His friends always found it suspicious but never spoke up. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days.

I was sat in French, on a normal Wednesday morning. I had set off from home that day with a smile on my face, thinking it was a nice normal day. I still thought that until I looked out of the window and saw the all too familiar black saloon. I groaned, beginning the routine I did every month. I sighed and stood up, the elderly teacher eyeing me. "I need to go and speak to the office, sir." I said, quietly. All eyes on the class were on me, although this was a regular occurrence. The teacher nodded, almost unintelligibly. I left the room. As I left, a few mutters broke out, but the class got back to their work.

I tried to keep my pace steady as I approached the saloon. I opened the door and sat down in the comfortable seat. "Mark, no mission was scheduled today... I checked." I said, slightly annoyed.
"This is an emergency." Mark Reed, my handler, replied.
"But still surveillance?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah." Mark replied, sighing.
"What's so... Emergency-like?" I asked, getting the laptop from the glove compartment.
"Major terrorist network. We think they're planning an attack on London." Mark said, already driving off.
"Aren't they all? You have sorted this with the school, haven't you?" I said, already opening the files that detailed the mission.
"Yeah, MI6 sorted it." Mark said, keeping his eyes on the road.
"We're going to Paris? GIGN involvement?" I asked, keeping my mind on business.
"Nope. Completely solo op." Mark said.
"So, we aren't in any danger?" I asked, unable to keep the glimmer of hope out of my voice. Mark looked at me.
"I didn't say that." He looked back at the road, frowning slightly. "We've got a private jet fuelled and ready to go."
"Living in the lap of luxury." I said and turned my attention back to the screen.

As we arrived at the runway, I left the car first. I walked over to George Seeve, the pilot. "Hello, George." I said, grinning.
"Hey, Josh... Paris, huh? I've always wanted to go there."
"You get to stay there don't you? Jet stays there, in case we need to get away quickly." I asked, curious.
"Yeah, but I have to stay in the jet." George said, a small flicker of a smile on his face. I smiled, walking into the jet, Mark just behind me. As we entered the plush interior, Mark set himself down on a couch. He strapped himself in, though I knew from experience as soon as the jet was in the air, he'd either be doing business or sleeping like a log. I sat in one of the plush chairs and strapped myself in, laying my head back on the chair. When we finally entered the airspace, Mark did indeed fall asleep. I rolled my eyes and unstrapped myself, taking out the laptop. I did more checking on the files. There were no names in the file, most likely because they didn't know any. The file on the terrorist organisation, known as Red Moon, read this:

ORGANISATION NAME: RED MOON
KNOWN AFFILIATES: N/A (NONE KNOWN)
KNOWN CRIMES: SUSPECTED OF PLANTING BOMBS IN MANY MAJOR FOREIGN METROPOLITAN AREAS, ALL WORKING TOWARDS GREAT BRITAIN.
SUSPECTED LOCATION: VARIABLE
BACKGROUND:

Red Moon is thought to be have founded in the late 1990s. It is unknown who founded the organisation. The only proof there is such an organisation, is the evidence of a graffiti on the wall of a palace in Israel that proclaimed 'WAR NEVER ENDS! THE RED MOON ARE WATCHING.'. Less than twenty four hours later, a bomb exploded just outside the palace wall, killing over a dozen people and injuring at least fifty. This one explosion almost caused nationwide conflict as the politician who resided there, who escaped relatively uninjured, thought this was the act of a rebellion. The situation was only calmed when foreign governments stepped in and calmed everything down. Since then, the Red Moon has been very prolific, but very capable at keeping unknown. In fact, the only reason we currently know of any 'Red Moon', is because of an informant who sadly perished in a fire, suspected to have been set by a Red Moon operative. The Red Moon have continued to bomb, assassinate and blackmail major politicians but have always kept quiet.

I finished reading the file, which was unusually short. I guessed it was because we didn't really know anything about it. I sighed and tried to fall asleep myself. I failed. I groaned and sat up in my seat, looking around. I saw a drinks cabinet and walked over, getting myself a Coke. The jets were always stocked with alcohol as well, but I wasn't allowed it, by decree of Alan Blunt. I sat back down and supped on the drink, looking at the clouds below. By looking through a break in the cloud, I saw we'd just about crossed the Channel. I got up and shook Mark awake. "We're in France." I said and he nodded and sat up, getting his laptop out. I sat back in my chair and did the same, checking the hotel we were staying in. Mark waved me over and I sat opposite him.
"Right. Time for the briefing. We're staying in he Hotel Le Meurice, which the Red Moon operatives are staying in. We're getting there a few hours before them, so we can set up all the cameras and mics we'll need to watch them. When they arrive, we'll switch everything on and write the report. Nothing should go wrong... That's not saying nothing will go wrong. This is important. We need to write everything down."

When we got out of the plane, there was a car waiting for us. Me and Mark both got in the back. As ever, it was comfortable. It was nice to know the government set our comfort as a rather high priority. We got to the hotel less than two hours later. It was nice, really nice. It was extremely upper class, or so it looked from the outside. The inside was no different. It was very rich. We were shown to our room and Mark left me to set up all the equipment, while he set up the equipment in the Red Moon's room. I looked at the time, 3:50 GMT. I'd forgotten to set my watch forward. With a horrible realization, I guessed Mark had too. The Red Moon were arriving at 5:00... Paris time. Mark had ten minutes. I ran from the room, in search of Mark. I found him, only halfway done, at about 3:55. "Mark. We don't have time!" I exclaimed quietly.
"Of course we do. It's only 3:55!" He whispered sternly.
"Yeah, England time... This is Paris time." I saw Mark's face go ashen. I heard what I guessed he'd heard. Voices coming up the corridor. I sighed and looked at him. This was going to be a tough one.