Once is nothing.
The balding man knocked me over with a muttered 'sorry' and continued on his way. He wore a nondescript business uniform and a pair of very shiny shoes. He hurried past me and disappeared into the throng of people.
Twice is a coincidence.
I ducked into a parking garage in dire need of something to do. I hated not being on assignment. I made for the stairs that would let me into the mall. I heard slow footsteps coming down the stairs after me. I caught a glimpse of a shiny shoe a flight above my head.
Three times is a tail.
I made my way through the aisles of Smith's. I was all out of orange juice at home. It was bitterly cold out and I pulled my sweater closer around myself. As I searched for the juice, I happened to glance down the ice cream aisle, contemplating cuddling up with some Rocky Road, when, lo and behold, a balding man with shiny shoes stood there, examining the Hagen Daaz with far more intensity than necessary.
The realization hit me all of a sudden: my bosses were tailing me! They didn't trust me!
Millions of indignant questions ran through my brain. Did they think I was in cahoots with Solomon? That I was in the Circle? They had locked up Rachel. Were they planning to do the same with me? How many phonecalls of mine had they intercepted?
Those bastards.
I was torn between confronting the tail, toying with him, or directly talking to my bosses. Nowhere in me was the option 'forget it'.
My phone began to ring. The balding agent looked up at me. I shot him a glance and he hurried to the next aisle, brushing past me with a "Scuse me, ma'am." My rage grew at least threefold at this tail. Had he just called me ma'am? Seriously? I didn't look that old!
"Hello?"
"Abigail Cameron."
"That's me. Who is this?"
"Agent Cameron, we would like to talk with you."
"Okay," I glanced around out of habitual paranoia. "When and where, then?"
"Rocky Road." He answered. I was momentarily confused. I stuffed my cell back into my pocket before darting down the ice cream aisle to check for the dead letter drop box. Just like he had explained, there was a note taped to the bottom of one of the cartons of Rocky Road. I pretended to check the ingredients while I slipped the note into my pocket with my phone.
Once in my car, I felt safe to check the address. It provided a time to meet them later today. I had one hour to get to a neighborhood party and meet up with someone named Kristopher.
It didn't take long to show up in the wealthy neighborhood. A tent was set up in a grassy park. I stepped out of my car.
"There she is!" A strange man waved to me. "Hi, babe!" I went along with it, offering up my widest grin.
"Hey, Kris." I knew this was the Kristopher I was supposed to meet.
"Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend," Kristopher wrapped a hand around my waist and I leaned into his shoulder. "Nadia, this is my mom and my dad."
"Nice to meet you both!" I shook their hands.
"We've heard amazing things about you, dear," Kristopher's mom told me, "My son never stops talking about you."
"Aw, sweetie!" I nudged the stranger Kristopher, who smiled goofily and blushes.
"Yeah, well," he shrugs and starts to move his arm from my side when I lean in to kiss him on the cheek. "Hey, Nadia," he took my hand, "Would you like to go get some food? The hamburger's they're serving are delicious!"
I grabbed Joe and kissed him. For 87 seconds.
"Well," I giggled and glanced at my sister and niece, "somebody had to do it!"
"Yeah, that'd be nice." The two of us walked off.
"You're a good actress, Agent." He whispered to me.
"I might have to return the compliment." I murmured back. "Nice with the embarrassed thing."
"Well, good job with the kissing." A smirk spread across my face and I stood on my tiptoes and pecked him on the lips, catching him by surprise.
"I've had practice." I answer simply. His cheeks go red and he continues walking me over to the barbeque. People wave at the two of us and I smile and wave back.
"You're good." Joe smiled breathlessly, holding a gun in one hand and my wrist in the other.
"I think so, too," I leaned up onto my tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. He snickered at me with raised eyebrows. "But thank you, sir."
"Not very professional, though, are you, Agent Cameron?"
"Since when was 'professional' in the job description?" I shifted my weight to one leg and put my hands on my hips.
"Well, I guess it's not," He stepped closer, "but I pride myself on being professional." I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my (unfortunately short) height for another kiss.
"Look, Tom!" A teenage girl nudges younger boy, "That's Kris's girlfriend." I heard an incessant beeping sound, but it was quiet and dull. Kris frowned. "Come with me, please." He tightened his grip on my hand and picked up the pace, walking me uphill and to a church, which sat across the street from said suburban park. Once behind the church, Kris stopped walking.
"Agent Abigail Cameron?" He asked. That was unnerving. I didn't even know this kid's last name. "Kristopher Evanston, MI6." He slipped out of his American imitation and into a more natural London accent. Evanston. That's his last name. Evanston.
"Where did the 'Nadia' thing come from?" I asked. "Just curious." He bent down to tie his shoe and looked up at me.
"That's my girlfriend's name. Those are my parents. Honestly." He stood up. "But they won't remember your face at all, especially not with memory-modifying tea. When they actually get to meet her, they won't remember meeting you at all."
"That's clever." I thought it over. "So what was it you desperately needed me for?"
"I was supposed to give you a warning. You mustn't do anything foolish. We know about your prior relationships with the CIA prisoner Joe Solomon. Consider this an order from MI6." I felt my face blanch. And here I was hoping for a new assignment in order to forget about this stuff, and all I get is a reminder from yet another source.