This is fanfiction, which means I am not Ally Carter. And therefore I do not own the Gallagher Girls. :)
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The night was silent except for the occasional wolf call. The stars shone brightly above the mountains and the moon was a brilliant crescent. Despite the quietness outside, what was happening in the small shack was something that would be remembered. Several people from around the globe had gathered together for one night. They all sat around a large table, absorbed in their own business. A large Brazilian man was glaring at a woman from New Zealand. She was twirling a knife around her fingers, not even worrying about the sharp blade nearing her knuckles. On the opposite side of the table, a French man was emptying his gun cartridge. Lead bullets scattered over and one traveled across the table in front of a Russian woman. She brushed it away and continued carving into the table with her sharp knife. Next to her, a Syrian man was discussing city bombing strategies with my mother. Where was I during all this fun? I was sitting next to Mr. Muscleman from Brazil, twisting a rubber band around my fingertips.
I was scared out of my wits. Every person in this room had trained for years in the art of murder. I had only gone to a juvenile detention center for about five years. Yet there I was among the elite terrorists of the world. These men and women were deadly. Lethal. And I tried to avoid situations that increased my chances of dying. Sadly, those opportunities seemed to find me.
The door creaked open and the bitter wind fluttered a stack of papers. A slam echoed through the small room as the door was quickly shut and a chubby Cuban man entered. He glanced around the table but his glare rested on me.
He leaned on the table with his hands clenched. His arms were bulbous, too large for his body. The man was too short to be intimidating, but his face made up for his lack of superior height. He had a square face, scarred from his profession and tinged pink from the cold. His nose jutted out and his eyes sunk into his head, which made his furrowed eyebrows seem even angrier. His lips tightened into a sneer and spat out, "Who the hell are you?"
"Roberto, this is my informant. My son: Zachary. He's with us." The rest of the table looked to me, expecting a response. I merely let go of my rubber band with a snap and leaned back in my chair. My heart rate was spiking and I struggled to keep my eyes impassive.
As realization dawned on him, his sneer was quickly replaced with a sinister smile. The folder was pushed forward until in rested in front of me. Papers peeked out the side, and I knew what was coming next. But it didn't make it any easier. "Ah, the girl's friend. So, young man, why don't you tell me everything you know about Cameron Morgan." He turned the cover and I saw a blown-up picture of Cammie. My heart sunk to my feet. I looked back to the man, and he was smirking. Preparing myself for whatever he had planned, I evened my breathing. He was a trained killer. Trained killers are trained liars. Liars can spot liars. I was as good as dead.
I took a deep breath and plastered my signature smirk across my face, disguising the fear pulsing through my veins. "She's good. She doesn't share all her best intel, like you expect her to." The picture stared up at me, her eyes sparkling with silent laughter. The only smile to be found in this room was on Cammie's face, frozen in the photo. Cammie. The last time I had seen her was the spring semester, right after I kissed her. My entire summer was spent at school, and Cammie ahd became a small part of my life. But I didn't need the picture in front of me to remember every little detail about her. So instead of looking at the photograph, I focused on the impatient man in front of me. "Her dad died when she was in sixth grade. She likes secret passageways." He leaned closer, becoming more irritated. He wasn't getting what he wanted, and he wasn't happy about that. I kept blabbing, trying to correct my missteps, but I kept fumbling. I said, "Honestly, the Circle has told me more about her than Cammie has given away. Trust me; you guys know more than you think." I turned to see plenty of raised eyebrows and angry glares.
Whatever he wanted to know, that was not it. He shook his head and snarled. "I'll tell you this, Zachary," he made my name seem like an insult. The man got right up in my face, breathing heavily. His breath smelled like smoke and it burned my nostrils. "We need whatever is up in her pretty little head, whether she lives through it or not. Whatever you're doing: it's the easy way. And if you're going to continue to treat this like a game, we'll take measures into our own hands. I will personally bring out the guns and knives. Do you know how she acts under pressure?" His angry stare became sadistic. His next words were calm, but full of serious conviction. "Believe me; I am not above torturing teenagers." I think that sentence wouldn't be any more frightening if he shouted it while pressing a pistol to my forehead. He backed away from me, satisfied by his imposing harangue. I felt everyone's eyes on me, and you probably could have heard a pin drop in the room.
Until the woman from New Zealand chuckled. "And it'd be a shame if her 'pretty little head' got messed up. Don't you think, Zachary?" Needless to say, her laughter was not happy. It was laced with contempt and hatred. More laughter bubbled up, and Roberto turned to glare at the woman. As her laughter faded out into a cynical chuckle, she said, "Oh, Roberto, do you not know? Zachary was the one who kissed Miss Cameron last spring." Her knife swiveled around her fingers once more before it was jammed into the table as she stopped laughing to scowl in my direction. I think I might've jumped. The Circle had seen me kiss Cammie. What else did they see from Gallagher? And how?
The terrorists looked around, clearly not satisfied with my actions. This was not going where I wanted it to. But if I tried, I could twist it in my favor. So I let out a laugh and all their attention returned to me. "Oh, please. I'm just playing the boyfriend. If I do it well, she'll eventually spill it all. It's only a matter of time before she's wrapped around my little finger." I smirked, covering up how nervous I was becoming. Stopping myself for wringing my rubber band, I continued on, "Cameron won't just hand out information. She's too good for that. Or do you not know?" Clearly, mocking the woman was not a good idea, because she stood from her seat and reached for her knife. I stood and leaned forward on the table. Sitting wasn't a good vantage point when in a room of killers. I looked around then rested my gaze on the woman who had wrenched her blade from the table. "When I get the information, we'll all be happy and can go our separate ways." She held her knife tightly, but showed no sign of using it anytime soon. Instead, she sent mental daggers my way. The air in the room was getting thick, and moods were worsening for most. But not all.
The man beside me slapped a meaty hand on my back. "Just like his mother." He turned to the woman beside him and said, "Aren't you proud?" He gave a hearty chuckle but it was far less frightening than the woman still glaring at me. The others joined in on his laughter, and I quickly became confused.
The other man beside my mother put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes. It's seems as if only yesterday you had that man head over heels. He was smitten. You got what you wanted then headed for the hills. Excellent work. And it seems Zachary is following in your footsteps. Romance in exchange for information. A classic." They all started to laugh again, sharing a memory. A cruel one. My mother had honeypotted my father, making him fall for her. She needed to get in his head. When she did, he had vanished. But somewhere along the lines, I had shown up. My mother was a heartless woman. How could she rip a father from his son? Because of the Circle, I didn't have my dad. I was as good as alone.
All it did was make me realize how much more important my mission was. I needed to break the Circle. Get their trust and wreck them from the inside out. Fool them. I joined in their laughter, but with much less enthusiasm. "That's right. I learned from the best." We chuckled together until it died out. Roberto patted me on the back.
"Good boy." I felt like a dog being trained to bite children. He still had his sadistic grin on his face, but I assumed it was his natural expression. "I say Zachary has this all under control." He squeezed my shoulder until it began to throb lightly. Pushing down, his force making me bend ever so slightly to relieve the pressure. "He won't screw it up. Will you?" With the grip on my shoulder and his glare, I got the message. Mess up and I'd have a bullet through my skull. I sat down, and instantly the iron hold on my shoulder was gone. Roberto turned to the man, "Luc, the maps."
The French man had rounded up all the scattered bullets and had swapped his gun for a thick folder. "Azerbaijan. We are in charge of demolishing a bridge." A copy of each map, painstakingly labeled with coordinates and times, was passed to each of us. The only thing I saw was one more thing that was going to be ruined. As always.
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When we had finished, I realized that I had wrung the rubber band to the point where red lines ran along my wrist. I rubbed the circulation back into the only sign of my nerves. After a few seconds of trying to erase the proof, I gave up and pulled my sleeves down to my fingertips. It also helped the cold. My breath swirled around me in a haze, the cold mountain air sending goose bumps down my arms.
"Cold, isn't it? But not as bad as school, huh?" My mother came up behind me. Her hands were in her pockets, and she was looking past the mountains and the trees, somewhere distant. I stared north, where, a few miles away, my school was asleep. I shrugged. "I'm proud of you, you know?" I shrugged again. Of course she would be proud. I joined her terrorist organization, didn't I? "Almahdi is impressed. He wasn't quite so sure about how you would handle being here, so young and all. He's an old friend of mine, and I'm glad that he thinks you'll be of help."
"I'm gonna need to head back to school. If I miss any more classes, then I might be kicked out." I said. But they wouldn't "kick me out." They wouldn't kick anyone out. If something went wrong, they'd just be killed. After all, it is a school for assassins. We've learned too much to just walk away.
My mother gave a light giggle, as if this was a normal situation. She leaned in to kiss my cheek. I had almost turned away, but she would've been offended, seeing as she doesn't know that I hate her. She patted my cheek twice and added the strangest accompanying sentence: "Go kick some ass for Mommy."
"Of course." I pulled my hood to cover my ears, and started down the hill. Two miles through the mountain wouldn't be difficult. I'd just have to make sure my classmates weren't having midnight sniper practice.
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Hi! For the observant ones out there, you must've realized that this is my sequel to Just a Day in DC! But, new readers: you don't have to read DC, because this'll just be DJGBHC in Zach's PoV with extra scenes to fill in for the lack of goode-ness. ;) A few things that were tweaked ever so slightly in the previous story: I started DC before United We Spy came out, so I said Catherine killed Zach's dad… I'll have to twist that back to normal eventually, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Also, Zach is a double agent working with Solomon trying to break down the Circle of Cavan. Yeah. Once again, you can read this one without reading DC, mainly because that one starts off weirdly and it's not very consistent with the amount of humor and the mood and whatnot… If I changed anything in the DC and forgot to mention it, feel free to PM me or put it in a review and I'll try to explain. (I didn't change much, though.)
So, I'd like some feedback on what I have done thus far. I'm happy with what I had done so far and I hope you are too! For those who weren't with me for DC: I respond to every favorite, follow, and review! I'm gonna try to keep up with shout-outs this time around, but I'm a blonde, and I think we all know how it could turn out. XD So… Could you drop a review and make my day? What you liked, what I could improve one, or anything else...?
I actually posted this earlier than I expected to. It was gonna be up later in the week or maybe next week, but Just a Day in DC hit 10,000 views a few days ago. :) So, I posted this to celebrate and to thank everyone for all the support!
