Everywhere I looked I saw people decked out in red, white, or blue. Everywhere I turned I heard the names "Macey" and "Preston" whispered. All around me, people were dying for a chance to lay their eyes on the two teenagers who should have been killed. I put my hand to my ear for just a second, adjusting the comms unit I had acquired for my trip to Cleveland (it doesn't really matter how I got it, so I'm not going to tell you…). "Delta team," A scratchy male voice said through the comms. "I don't like the looks of the guy on the library steps. I repeat, the library steps." Just then two girls my age about fifty feet to my right simultaneously turned, their gaze drifting to the library. They wore jeans and too-big "Winters/McHenry" t-shirts. They looked like they belonged where they were, but one's eyes darted just a little too quickly, taking in her surroundings, and the other's posture was slightly too perfect for someone who was at the rally solely to listen to politicians talk about empty promises. As Tina Walters and Anna Fetterman watched the man on the library steps pull out his cell phone, I thought how someday they were going to be very, very good operatives. I knew right then that Joe was proud of them.
My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the girl I had come to Cleveland for. Joe's voice broke over the comms unit again. "Four members of the Secret Service have infiltrated the protesters across the street, Ms. Fetterman," he said, and I saw Anna jump. "Identify the agents."
She licked her lips and took a deep breath. "Uh, Red backpack, lady in the blue Bandanna. The man in the yellow T-shirt, and…" She stopped.
"Anyone?" Joe asked.
"The guy with the long red beard." I jumped, not sure at first who had said that. Had I said that? Then I shook my head. No. It was a girl's voice. It was Cammie's voice. Atta girl, I thought, as I finally saw her.
"Why?" Joe asked, no doubt wanting to know that Cammie was as good as he thought.
"The static," she answered, and I smiled. "Two and a half minutes ago there was a burst of static on the Secret Service frequency. He flinched." How's that for an answer, Joe?
Macey began climbing the steps to the stage, and a hush literally fell over the crowd. It seemed that every eye was glued on the McHenry girl, but I watched Cammie and Bex, as their best friend stepped up to the microphone. My gaze darter back and forth, between Macey and Cammie. Suddenly I couldn't just watch her – I had to really see her, to talk to her, to make sure she was alright.
To my right was a banner, proudly displaying , but I wasn't concerned about the website. Instead, I focused on the corner of the banner, that was loose, and blowing in the breeze. A chink in the armor, so to speak. Just big enough to slip through. I pulled my hat low over my eyes, then slipped through the crack. I didn't look back; for some reason, I knew she would see me. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist investigating, finding out who figured out the break in security. I stepped back into the shadows and counted. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Noiselessly, she slipped behind the banner, her gaze darting back and forth. I stepped from the shadows, gently put my hand on her shoulder.
Big mistake.
The next thing I knew I was flying through the air, then landing on the ground with a pop (which I'm pretty sure was a balloon, but could very well have been my back breaking). The pain was worth it, though, to see the surprised look on her face as she pinned my shoulders down with her knees.
No, surprised isn't the right word. More like unbelief, astonished, and maybe a little bit of arrogance, all wrapped into one. I winked. "Hello, Gallagher Girl."
She stared down at me, that look still on her face, like she wasn't sure what to do with me. "Hey, Gallagher Girl," I finally said, "You gonna let me up now?"
She hesitated, then shifted her weight, and I began to sit up, but her hand shot out, pushing my chest back down. She leaned over me. "What are you doing here?"
I mentally cringed. That definitely wasn't what I expected. I was hoping for an I missed you, Zach, or I'm so happy to see you. I wouldn't have been surprised if she even said Why didn't you write or call over the summer? I kept waiting to hear from you. But no. She didn't say any of those. Of course not. She's a Gallagher girl. They don't beat around the bush with things like that. She got straight to the point – What are you doing here?
I stared at her, again wanting only to protect her, then smirked. She sighed. "I'm very interested in Ohio politics," I told her. She rolled her eyes.
"You can't vote," she told me as she got up, releasing the tension from my shoulders.
Thank you for that observation, Sherlock. "No, but I can campaign," I pointed to the Winters/McHenry button I had pinned to my jacket.
She arched an eyebrow. "You're a long way from Blackthorne," she observed.
I smiled. "Yeah, I heard that Macey McHenry was going to be making her first post-convention public appearance here today—" I stood up, then reached up to brush some confetti out of Cam's hair. "and where there's one Gallagher Girl, there are usually others."
She flushed. "We're like smoke and fire that way," she said, her voice breaking. Hmm. So the infamous Cammie Morgan gets flustered by flattery. I'll have to remember that.
"Yeah," I agreed, smirking, "something like that."
The crowd cheered behind us, and she glanced behind her, but it didn't seem like she actually saw the thousands of people who had arrived to see Macey McHenry.
"I thought you'd vowed to stay out of secret passageways and laundry chutes," I joked, "but I guess…" I trailed off, reaching up and tracing the bruise along her hair line. She cringed when I touched the tender spot, but didn't back away.
Her eyes widened. ""How did you know about the laundry chute?" She asked. Darn it, she's good.
I took a deep breath, then smiled and pointed to myself. "Spy."
The comms unit crackled, then Bex Baxter's voice came over. "Chameleon, I know you're being Chameleony," I stifled a laugh. Is chameleony a word? "but if you could wave or something, or tell me where you are, that would be great."
"Bleachers," Cam said.
"Bex?" I asked, hoping my comms unit wasn't noticeable.
"Yeah," she said.
"So you've got backup? The girls are here? And Solomon?" I had already seen them. I knew they were there. But I was still worried about her. I needed to hear from her that there were Gallagher Girls out there, girls who would risk their lives to protect their own kind.
"Of course they are," she said, as if it went without saying, which it sort of did, but still…
The comms cracked again. "Alpha team, there's movement under the bleachers," a female voice said.
Cammie's eyes locked with mine. "Zach, there's someone under—" I counted again, waiting until she realized who the Secret Service was talking about. One Mississippi. Two Miss-
"You!" An agent called, his red face blending with his red hair almost perfectly.
"Bye, Cam," I whispered, but I knew she didn't hear me. I slipped away from her, unnoticed by the Secret Service.
"Oh my gosh," I heard her say, and I smiled at how, well, normal she sounded. "I had to go to the bathroom so bad, so we—" She looked behind her, and her eyes widened.
"We?" The red-head asked. Cammie flushed again. I turned and left.