"Could Ben Ripley please report to the principal's office," the principal's voice crackled through the speakers, unnecessarily loud. The whole back row woke abruptly at the noise.

I had to stop myself from toppling over my seat as I jumped in surprise.

"Ah, I'm finally getting good at this!" the principal yelled excitedly, causing some of the first years around me to cover their ears, before signing off.

"I bet you're going on a mission," Zoe Zibbell whispered to me from my left. She sounded a little jealous.

"If it is, could we join you?" Mike Brezinski said from my right. They said this in the casual manner normal people might use to talk about the weather.

"It might not be a mission," I said hopefully as I stood up.

"Right," Zoe rolled her eyes as I left. Everyone watched me almost enviously as I walked past them.

A year ago, if this had happened, everybody would've thought that I was just in trouble.

In Spy School, you usually didn't go on a mission until after at least a few years after graduating.

But, with my bad luck, by my third year, I had ended up participating in more than a couple of missions

The past few months, I'd been going on mission after mission and after a while, it became pretty obvious what I was doing. In fact, in my last mission, me and my friends had been wrongly declared Public Enemy #1 in England while trying to take down an evil organization named SPYDER. We were cleared, but it was pretty clear afterwards that we had been on mission.

Now with SPYDER down, I had thought that I wouldn't have to go on a mission, at least for another few years.

I knew I had been wrong as I entered the principle's office to find Cyrus Hale waiting for me.

Cyrus Hale had been the best agent in the CIA before he had retired and still was a very good spy. He didn't take very well to retiring and still went on some rogue missions.

As I entered the office, I had no option but to be crammed next to Cyrus.

The office was actually not an office, but a closet (due to when I had blown up the actual office, but that's a whole other story.) The area would've been cramped already, but the principal (or 'the Idiot' as he was called among the students) had placed a desk in.

Cyrus didn't look too happy to be squished next to me.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled gruffly.

"Let me guess. It's a mission, right?" I sighed.

"Don't jinx it, boy," Cyrus barked roughly. "But it is," he added as an afterthought.

I grimaced. So much for hoping. I looked to where the Idiot was and saw him playing on his phone.

He saw me looking at him and looked up. "What?" the Idiot said trying to look menacing, but failing quite badly.

"Don't worry about him, he'll probably forget about it a few seconds after we leave," Cyrus cut in.

"Hey!"

Both of us ignored him.

Cyrus handed me an envelope. I carefully opened it and looked it through.

Operation Sluggish Civet

I had barely read through the title when Cyrus snatched it.

"Oh, you're taking too long," he said grumpily. "We need to be on the road as fast as we can. I'll explain it in the car." He grabbed by my arm and steered me out of the closet.

"Whoa, hold up. Isn't anyone else coming with us?" I tried to ask him.

"Unfortunately, no," he muttered crankily. He let go of my arm as he strode through the hallway. "Follow me."

"Not even Erica?" I crossed my fingers that his granddaughter would be coming. Erica Hale was the best spy-in-training at St Smithens and was probably more capable than half the agents in the CIA, even though she was only a fifth year. She had saved my life more times than I could count and her flawless beauty was definitely a bonus factor.

"I haven't even told her about the mission, but she's probably figured it out by now," Cyrus said without looking back. He was walking so fast I had to jog to keep up.

"Why not?" I asked even though I know why. Erica was far more competent a spy than I was, and if Cyrus chose me over her on a mission it could only mean one thing; it put my life in danger. Cyrus would certainly not want to put a target on his granddaughter's head no matter how good an agent she was, and he considered me a lot more expendable.

Cyrus didn't bother answering.

By now we were at the front of the school, the gate only 20 metres ahead.

"Where are we going?" I asked. Cyrus ignored me once again.

"I haven't even packed yet!" I yelled, trying to make Cyrus listen to me.

"It's been packed for you, we need to get on with this as quickly as possible," Cyrus finally replied.

The people at the gate checked through IDs quickly and let us through. As we walked, I couldn't bother trying to talk to Cyrus, knowing he probably wouldn't reply so I just followed him quietly instead.

Cyrus continued to walk in his quick pace until we turned the corner. Stopping suddenly, he fished out a pair of car keys from his pocket. Parked at the side was a rusty, old pickup truck.

"Get in," Cyrus ordered. So I did, clumsily onto the seat next to the driver, still wondering where we were going and what on earth our mission was.

Cyrus dropped in beside me. As the engines growled loudly and the car took off, as though reading my mind, Cyrus announced, "We're going to Texas."