Hello, lovely readers!
T'is I, with another chapter for you to read and (hopefully, possibly,) review! Second to last chapter of this story-I think I've said that before, but I mean it this time-so yeah, that's kind of all I really need to say. I've been working on this for a while actually, just things came up that got in the way of uploading. So, yes, this is all. Hopefully you all like this!
keep calm and read on;
fast forward -;
a year later.
It's been pretty normal so far.
Well, as normal as things can be for some spies who: previously thought one of their friends was dead; went on a mission to save another friend who might have been dead; gotten captured; and fought their way out of the place where they were captured; and found out that that presumed-dead friend actually … wasn't.
Anna Fetterman, along with Cassandra Goode, were put into respective CIA cells and are being heavily watched by at least 5 guards at a time. They're not going anywhere for the rest of their lives.
Nicholas Carter had a hearing, and was later found innocent as he was a triple agent for Langley. Mom eventually offered him his previous position at the CIA, which he happily accepted as it allowed him to work with his girlfriend-turned-fiancée, Macey, who came back to work after a couple of months of well-deserved break.
The four of us were reunited, and like we had hoped, worked together on our missions—Bex and I became official partners on field missions; Lizzie was our little computer genius back at Langley while Macey decided to not go back into the field but still help us by being our handler and helping Liz.
All of our missions were successful, at least to a degree—one of them even catching Josh, who had disappeared after our last encounter, who also joined his little friends in a CIA cell.
I will admit that during those missions, I secretly did expect someone. I have been expecting someone to show up, for me to notice him or him to come back to me and give me some vague statement which would somehow help me.
It never happened. And truth be told, I didn't have the slightest clue as to where he would be. Except for that one day.
Despite being the daughter of a previous headmistress (at my spy school) who turned into the head director for the CIA (my current workplace), I never expected any special treatment.
Like normal agents, as soon as I got a job, I was expected to get to work.
No one notices the new guy.
However, being the daughter of a headmistress-turned-head of the CIA, who disappeared for five years, came back as someone else, got caught being that someone else while on a mission, and still returning as an agent for the CIA … well, that causes a lot of people to talk.
And you'd think since they live a life dedicated to secrecy and covertness, they would master the art of gossiping.
Every single day, as I walked in, I heard whispers of:
"That's her, look!"
"No, turns out she was actually the Director's daughter."
And some comments mentioning the name of a certain boy were not unheard of. In fact, they were pretty common.
I inhaled deeply, tensing before I heard the security guard say politely, obviously trying to make up for those tactless co-workers of his. "Good to see you again, Agent Morgan."
"Good to be back," I smiled in return.
I was back. My hair had grown out of its black, back into its light brownish shade; as well as ditching my hazel contacts for my natural coffee eyes. And even though I had been here already as Anne St. James, that feeling of finally being here—finally making it into the CIA as Cammie Morgan—felt infinitely better.
I pressed my floor in the elevator, and made my way to Liz and Bex as soon as the doors opened. I found them talking quietly at Liz's desk, only to stop as soon as I reached them.
"Cammie!" Liz and Bex exclaimed in unison, smiling seemingly larger than normal.
"Okay, guys, for spies but you really suck at that."
"At what?"
"Acting nonchalant."
"What are you talking about?" Bex asked with fake naivety.
"Start talking about something so quietly even I can't hear it, only to stop once I reach you. And do not tell me that you smile like that normally, because even insane people do not smile as big as you guys did."
I crossed my arms, staring at them as they silently communicated through looks. Having been their best friend for the longest time, I can tell you they were probably saying,
"She's onto us! What do we do?"
"Should we tell her?"
"It's no use debating whether or not to tell me, guys. Just do it." I interrupted their unspoken conversation before being interrupted myself, by the sound of my mother's voice saying, "Cammie. My office, now, please."
I followed Mom into her office, sat down in that chair which I had sat down before with Liz beside me, receiving our mission to save Macey. Somehow, it felt like it was years ago rather than just a matter of weeks.
Mom sat down in front of me, clearing her throat before saying, "So, how have you been, Cam?"
My eyebrows crinkled in suspicion as I hesitantly replied, "Fine…"
"Good," Mom smiled softly, "That's good."
"Mom, this isn't one of those Sundays where I'd come over for dinner and talk about boys. I know you've gotta tell me something; and judging from the way Bex and Liz are acting, you've told them already. I can handle it, Mom."
She nodded, knowing I was right. Then, after taking a deep breath, she began to say, "Do you remember Tina?"
"Tina? Tina Walters from Gallagher? Yeah…"
"Well, do you remember how her mother 'works' for that metropolitan newspaper as a gossip columnist?" I nodded and she continued, "She was in London on business, when she was watching on the news. She said that I should really take a look at a news story because it might be important to us."
"Okay…? Mom, if there's a point, I'd really like to get to it." I urged.
"Patience, Cammie." Mom said coolly, "So, I looked into it, and Tina's mom said I should get Liz to hack into the Emergency Services' database to retrieve an audio file from a previous caller. Would you like to hear it?"
"Do I have a choice?" I asked, as Mom double-checked the doors were closed and then turned to the computer, pressed some keys as the file started to play.
"999, which emergency services do you require?"
You could hear someone sniffling softly, as well as clearing their throat.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
"I-I'm here." A voice rasped.
"Yes, sir, you called Emergency. What is the problem?"
"I-I can't do it anymore… I'm so tired."
"S-Sir, if you will just wait for a little bit, the police will be there—"
"I'm sorry, Gallagher Girl."
After a couple of seconds, you could hear a splash, then the phone hanging up.
Mom clicked the X on the corner of the screen, and she turned to face me. I didn't really know what my face looked at that time, but I can tell you I did feel pretty nauseous. And shocked. But mostly nauseous.
"I-Is it really him?" I asked, trying to hold on to the possibility that he might still be alive. "Are-Are you sure it's him?"
"Multiple witnesses saw him do it, Cam. All of them have given descriptions matching exactly what we've released about him," Mom replied solemnly, "Liz also hacked into the satellite to view the images and it's an exact doppelganger for Zach."
"B-But was there a body? Did someone ID him?"
Mom got out of her seat and sat in the seat beside me, her hand holding mine, stroking it comfortingly. "He jumped into the Thames from the Tower Bridge, Cam. Any attempt at trying to find a body is completely futile. And even if there was a body to ID, no one knows of a Zach Goode. Blackthorne and its students do not exist; therefore any of its graduates don't either."
I didn't really know what I was feeling, but my eyes started tearing, which I guess seems appropriate. Crying works for all emotions—sadness, anger, happiness—but that didn't stop me from merely nodding at my mom, trying to gulp back tears, though I knew it was pointless. (She was my mom after all.) However, just cause you can cry, doesn't mean you should. Especially in a place where you are notoriously gossiped about.
"There's also something else…" Mom gulped nervously, before rushing to add, "I-It's not as bad as that, don't worry, kiddo," as soon as she saw the expression on my face.
"What is it?"
"The Board of Directors, myself included, have decided to hold a memorial—it's not just for Zach, however, he will be the newest addition to the CIA Memorial Wall. Even though he won't really be killed in action, we feel he deserves some recognition for helping to take down an evil terrorist group."
"So what does it have to do with me?"
"They would like you to write a eulogy for him."
"What?" I squeaked.
"I know it's asking a lot, kiddo, but … you were the best fit. No one else really knew him. You did." Mom touched my arm tenderly.
I sighed, knowing she was somewhat right, though technically speaking, there wasn't really anything more I knew about him than they did. Well, there is that incident, which Mom doesn't know—otherwise she wouldn't be asking me to eulogize the man who killed her husband—however, it wasn't as if that was something personal, something intimate shared only between us two and no one else.
I didn't really know Zach; he just let me in more than other people … which still isn't saying much.
"Go home and rest, kiddo," Mom offered, kissing my forehead, "The memorial's in a couple of days, and you're on paid vacation until then, okay?"
I smiled softly, "Okay, mom."
I am literally writing the last chapter as you are reading this-well, as I am typing this-and I am about halfway done, and I expect to upload it sometime next week, so look out for it. But maybe if you guys leave me lovely reviews, it'll motivate me to write/upload faster ;)
dftba;
-S
