Test

17th June

Third Person

"Tomorrow is the most important day of your lives. Not only are your skills under examination, but your trust and loyalty. We've spent the last three days preparing for this. We've thrown a lot at you in such a short amount of time. You've studied your covers, you've learnt the company. The mission has many layers to it. Intel gathering and identification. You need to find the contact. Identify them, extract their intel, and get out. Just because it's a drinks party, doesn't mean there won't be heavy security there. There will be lots of high-rolling investors present, so security will be visible and undercover. Valets, waiters, bar staff. One wrong word and it could be all over. They know they have a whistle-blower in their midst, so they will be searching too. You need to be constantly thinking about everything. The CCTV, the exits, the people, each other. You will feel the pressure. I am supposed to stand here and tell you that the only important thing is the completion of the mission. It isn't. All you need to remember is this... Don't get caught. Living to see another mission is more important. You are all going on the same mission tomorrow, so if any of you feel like you're about to be exposed, leave, and let someone else complete the mission. Knowing when to get out is respectable. And it will save your life. Yes, the mission is a competition. But becoming the first Agent isn't everything. I wish I could come with you all tomorrow, to keep you safe, but I'm not allowed. They want to see how you do alone, without a safety net. So it's up to you. Whatever you decide tomorrow is the right decision. Do not doubt yourselves. They wouldn't be letting you out if they didn't think you ready. I believe each of you can do this. It's time you believe that you can. If you don't, you may not be back here again… Tonight, you need to sleep. And tomorrow, you finish preparation. Next time you see me, one of you will be given your first mission."

The mission was simple, find the whistle-blower, extract their intel, and get out undetected. It wasn't that hard. Not for a seasoned Agent. But the recruits had never been on a mission before. They hadn't even ventured out of the facility since first arriving. It was going to be interesting to say the least.

None of the recruits slept well that night. They each tossed and turned in their beds, nervous by what lay ahead. Marched from their dormitory, they showered and dressed in their usual training clothes. A handler had been assigned to each of them and with their handler, they covered the key notes of the mission. Victoria made rounds, leaving off the wardrobes for the recruits.

Caitlin was playing the widow of a wealthy French investor.

Summer, a lowly employee at the tech company hosting the evening. Ciara a waiter. Hayley was the daughter of a hard-nosed financial advisor. Emma, a Harvard Alumni with a law degree. Sienna, a waiter. Sophie, the sister of a big game hunter. Ruby a waiter. And Paige, the wife of a young business investor who was unable to attend the gala.

They each had their wardrobes specifically chosen by Victoria and Issy to reflect the roles they were playing. The recruits changed, having to slip into character immediately. Issy had advised that when in costume, they assume their cover to separate themselves from the mission. It made living with what they had to do a lot easier.

One by one, they were each led to the garage and sat in the back of blacked out cars. The cars filed out one by one, driving for miles in circles before pulling up to a busy, five-star hotel. Ciara, Sienna and Ruby arrived first. They slipped in the service door, instantly blending in with the hired staff workers. As everything was still being set up, they started interacting with the other young servers. They knew that serving staff often spoke quite freely about the conversations they'd overhear, and the guests they served. In that moment though, it felt incredible to be able to speak to people other than their fellow recruits or teachers. But the conversations they were having were all based on their cover stories. Each girl had a backstory; where they grew up, where they went to school, who their families were, what they were doing working a party, what they wanted to do in life. Despite wanting to be a guest at the party, the girls knew that they were the ones that were more likely to overhear important information. Staff go unnoticed at these sort of events, being able to walk among the guests, listening in on conversations.

The guests started arriving, lifting drinks from the open bar. As the event hall started filling up, Caitlin's car pulled up outside. The blacked-out door was opened, and she stared out at the bright light. There were people milling about the hotel entrance, waiting on cabs, the valet, luggage. She took a deep breath, pushing down her nerves. Plastering a smile across her face, she stepped out of the car. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress, showing off her curves. Whilst it accentuated her breasts, it was long enough to reach just above her knees. But the strappy stilettos extended her long legs. Holding her head in the air, she strode forwards into the lavish hotel. There was a rope and sign guiding the guests to the ballroom. She took one of the welcome champagne glasses from the servers by the door, wandering into the room. Her eyes immediately scanned the room, identifying the CCTV cameras and exits. She also scanned the people.

Trying to identify a contact knowing only little about them was one of the most difficult tasks they could face. They had to assess minute behaviourisms that would indicate nervousness or fear. There was a codeword, Salem. They were only allowed to use the word once and only once. If talking to the contact, they would reply with 'Turner house'. If wrong, they had to excuse themselves from the room and their car would take them back to the base. They were all wearing ear comms, but unlike on missions, they wouldn't receive any support from the command centre. They were out on their own.

Over the next hour, the other girls arrived, mingling in with the guests. Terrified, but determined, they all kept their eyes and ears open, searching for anything that would point them to their contact. The ballroom was now full of people with heavy wallets and cheque books at the ready.

Ciara and Ruby had found their confidence hiding in plain sight. They gracefully moved around the ballroom, trays of food and drinks balanced in their hands. Going unseen by all the guests but their fellow recruits, they listened in on all conversations. Some interesting stories, but mostly business talk. In preparation for the mission, each girl had learnt everything there was to know about the multibillion-dollar technology company that was hosting the event. It meant they could join in on conversations and listen in whilst understanding what was being said.

An hour into the full flow of the party, a long black limousine pulled up outside. A stunning bleach blonde woman stepped out. Her feet were held by brand new Louboutin's, her legs bare until the middle of her thighs were wrapped by tight red material. Her dress was small, but not in a slutty way, it was more sophisticated glamour, the gold necklace and bangles complementing it. Her right hand held a diamond ring on her index finger, two gold ring adorned her left. Also in her hand, she held a thin black clutch purse. Her hair was straightened down around her face, long enough to reach her waist. She strode into the hotel as if she owned the place.

"Gary! What an amazing party. You are sure to entice a few cheque books out just because of the open bar."

"Camilla, I am glad you could make it."

Gary McArtney was the CEO of the tech company. He was an older man, in his late fifties, and slightly portly from all the drinking he'd done over the years. But it was his money and hard-nosed business acumen that attracted attention to himself. He hadn't built his company up with a kind heart. Anyone could walk into the office one morning and be fired on the spot, and that's why he did so well. The fear of being dismissed created competition in his employees, pushing each of them to perform better. His home life wasn't all that different to his work life. He had a wife, of nearly forty years, an adult son and daughter, and another two daughters with two different Mistresses eight years ago. He had always led the life he wanted, taking everything he set his eyes upon and didn't care for feelings. His wife hadn't left him, and she never would. She let him carry on with his multiple affairs as she had some of her own. It was the money and lifestyle that only kept her there.

Pressing kisses on either side of their faces in greeting, Camilla lifted a champagne glass of a passing server. She held it up to him, her strong red lips pursed together.

"You sure know how to please some people."

Camilla was a young woman, in her late twenties. She'd come into Gary's life nearly a month ago, bumping into each other at a coffee shop. Her stunning appearance sucked him in immediately. And he decided to make her his next quest. She'd moved to town only two months before, taking time to travel the world, thanks to the inheritance of her Father's money. Her plan to leave after three months had changed. Instead of flying to Europe alone, Gary had offered to take her to his country home in Italy for a few weeks. She hadn't yet accepted, making his game more exciting.

"What's the point in celebrating another great year if there isn't plenty of booze flowing?"

"Well said."

Staying by his side, Gary introduced Camilla to many of his colleagues and investors, knowing the beautiful blonde would loosen their wallets. His company was doing extraordinarily well. The last quarter had been a record breaker in sales figures. But the tech industry was always growing, always changing. The more money he had to work with, the more likely he was going to continue beating his competitors.

Hayley had been in conversation with an employee, not high up the chain of command, trying to extract any clues from him. Having spent twenty minutes listening to his hatred of Mr McArtney, she was convinced he was the contact. Slipping the codeword into the conversation, she waited for the return. But it never came. She realised she had been wrong and immediately became engulfed with fear. Near her and having heard the last few minutes of the conversation, Ciara approached her, seeing her fear and panic.

"Excuse me, Miss Grant, but there is a call for you in reception."

Staring into Ciara's eyes, Hayley couldn't speak. But she took a couple of breaths and nodded her head. Ciara's support helped clear her head enough for her to string a few words together.

"I'm sorry. I'll be back in a moment."

She worked so hard to stop herself from running to the door. Her eyes stayed down the entire time, only lifting when she got out in the fresh air. As the black car pulled up, she looked around. It was dark out, and there wasn't much to see past the hotel. But she could make out the line of mountains in the distance, the moon shining down on their peaks. Even if she ran, even if she screamed for help, it wouldn't matter. They'd track her down before she could leave the building. So she silently climbed into the back of the car, her handler sitting waiting for her.

Some of the other girls inside had seen what Ciara had done and each took a turn approaching her and thanking her. She felt good. She had feared that once the mission started they would all turn on each other. They were a family. And she couldn't bare to think about anything happening to any of them. If she didn't win the mission, but kept each of them safe, she would be happy.

The next two hours passed with Summer, Sienna, Sophie, Ruby and Paige all leaving. It was just Caitlin, Ciara and Emma left. Each had a few guests that they suspected. But none were certain. And aware that one of them had to complete the mission, they weren't going to risk being wrong and reducing the chances of them being successful. Caitlin made a decision to work with the two of them. Three heads were better working together than separately. The only problem was that it was against the rules. So she needed a way for them to communicate their findings without speaking them. As a guest, she approached Emma, introducing her cover self. A little shocked and scared, Emma kept the conversation light, confused by what she was doing. But Ciara had lifted a pen earlier in the evening, having tucked it into her purse. And there were plenty of serviettes lying about on the tables around the room. Standing by one, she placed her glass of wine down. None of them had been drinking. They'd learnt how to make it appear as though they were, without actually consuming it. She wrote down three names one a serviette, continuing her discussion with Emma. Sliding it across to her, she watched her eyes flick over it. Her finger slowly drew a circle around the second and third names, showing her suspicions too. Caitlin gave her a small nod and smile, taking the serviette back. She crossed out the first name before balling it up in her hand. Bidding Emma a goodbye, she made her way around the room. Ciara had watched the interaction, confused and a little worried. But as Ciara approached, she held her tray out to a waving hand. Standing beside her, Caitlin placed the serviette to the tray, her half empty glass over the corner of it.

"I'd like a fresh glass please. This one appears to have something in it."

Glancing down, Ciara became confused by the two names. Neither she had suspected. And one she was almost certain couldn't be. Her fingers carefully moved the glass across the tray, pretending to balance it out as her finger pointed to the last name.

"My apologises, Ma'am. Is there anything else I could get you? We have a range of cocktails that are a little different this evening."

Understanding her confusion by the name, Caitlin lifted her hand to brush her hair behind her ear. As she did so, she tapped her earpiece three times. Earlier in the evening, she thought she had seen a similar earpiece in the person's ear.

"I'll just have another red."

"Of course."

Ciara's eyes had darted to the suspected before she nodded confirmation to Caitlin. Returning to the long bar in the corner of the room, Ciara poured out the glass and stuffed the serviette into the bin. She lifted a fresh tray of drinks and watched as Caitlin made her approach.

"Mr McArtney, I wanted to introduce myself to you this evening. I think you knew my husband, Michael Harding. He invested in your manufacturing plant that opened in France three years ago."

"I recognise the name, but I don't remember him being married. And I couldn't forget a face that beautiful."

She gave him a flirty smile and lifted her chin.

"We weren't married at the time you did business together."

"Is Mr Harding here tonight?"

Her face fell and she let out a small breath.

"You didn't hear? Michael died in a plane accident last year."

"I am so sorry."

He took her hand in both of his, comforting her sorrow.

"I miss him greatly, but I know he would have wanted me to continue his passion of investing. He always loved putting his money in building the next big thing. Which is why I am here tonight. I hear you have been having quite the year."

"I have. And I expect another great quarter to come. I've got a few projects to unveil in the next month that I think you would be interested in if you have the time."

"Of course. I would love to hear about what you are working on. And I'll be in town for the next two weeks. Since Michael's passing, I have learnt a great deal about his French heritage. It got me thinking into my own. I found out that one of my ancestors was an accused witch in Salem during the Witch trials. Who would have thought?"

"I know little about the Salem Witch trials myself, but I do love to story of the House of the Seven Gables. It was inspired by the Turner House, built in 1668, in Salem."

"Really?"

Caitlin's eyes lightened, the corners of her lips lifting in triumph.

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced you two. This is Camilla Carter, a close friend of mine. And… I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, Madeline."

Camilla had held her hand out to her, both shaking with a tight squeeze in acknowledgement of the other.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Madeline."

"You too, Camilla."

"I'd love to ask you about those Witch trials, a change in conversation would be nice right about now."

"Certainly, but you'll have to excuse me whilst I use the bathroom first."

"I'll join you."

"Why can't women go to the bathroom alone? You know it would be creepy if men went together."

"Oh shhhh, Gary. We just like to go gossip away from your prying ears."

Turning away from him, the two women strode from the ballroom and down to the private bathrooms. Caitlin quickly checked that the stalls were all empty before turning back to the woman. But she was pulling off her stilettos, letting out a long breath.

"I had thought you'd be the one to figure me out first. Well done Caitlin, you've just passed the test."

Pulling the blonde wig off, she revealed the hairnet holding in the head of mahogany hair that was Isabella Swan's.