15th Floor Penthouse, Lexington-Brayburn Building
2:45 PM
I was going to have a serious talk with the head of the Witness Protection Program.
Now, I don't know whose idea of a cruel joke it is to send somebody who is presumably being hunted by a killer (me) to New York City, under the protection of a boy who was currently taking apart a cell phone and turning into a tracking device, an old man who was thoroughly absorbed in his crossword puzzle, two women who look like they should be modeling or attending the Oscars, and a guy and a girl who looked utterly bored with events at hand— but I'm not laughing.
I consider myself to be pretty damn cool under stress, but this was too much. My parents were in Europe. My friends have no idea where I am or what's going on. I wanted excitement in my life, but by government hands.
"Oy vey," Abby murmured, looking as frustrated as I felt right now, "where were you two? Bex?"
The girl—Bex, was it?—took a long sip of her coffee before answering. "We were tailing a suspicious man all over this bloody city," she explained.
"Suspicious?" Rachel queried. "Suspicious how?"
"Well for one, he was standing around terminal 5C at JFK airport for approximately two hours." She turned to me. "Your terminal, I'm assuming." I nodded my head slowly, slightly taken aback by her accuracy. "No suitcase or ticket. He didn't look like he was waiting for anybody. He left. So, we followed his cab to a cafe. A high class one, mind you. We grabbed a booth there. Again, he wasn't talking to anybody at all. He just looked like he was waiting, like he had missed a deadline or something—"
Jonas interrupted. "Descriptions? Maybe he matches with somebody in the database."
The other guy cleared his throat. "6'3. 176 pounds. Designer suit, Italian loafers, Rolex watch—your typical Wall Street sort of guy."
Jonas whistled. "You're good Zach, but you're not that good. You can't have known his height and weight just by looking at him."
Zach grinned and pulled a brown leather wallet out of his coat pocket. "Well," he began, raising an eyebrow in my direction, "it doesn't hurt to grab his wallet while he's not looking."
Before Jonas could look over the goods, Abby snatched the wallet up and slid out the ID. "Frank J. Luca. Age thirty-nine. Resident of New York." She clicked her tongue. "Not a donor." I didn't know what any of this information meant, I was still sort of in shock that Bex and Zach were perfectly fine trailing 'suspicious' people around the city. Maybe I shouldn't have been that surprised, considering the stories exchanged about them before.
Abby tossed the wallet in the air. "For such a well dressed Wall Street man, I'd expect him to have more money in here."
Bex directed a glare at Zach. "Told you she would notice."
"What?" Zach chuckled. "Think of it as compensation."
Bex and Abby continued to discuss the day's events, mentioning something about how she should have put a tracking device in his pocket while Zach nicked the wallet. But, their tone wasn't exactly serious, because I guess having the guy's contact information would have to suffice. For a moment, I wish I could have been in the loop instead of being the center of it.
Jonas, however, lost interest in the wallet quickly in favor of another topic. "So, which girlfriend were you breaking up with today, Zach?" he joked. Which girlfriend? As in, plural? I was going to go out on a limb and assume that hooking up with girls wasn't part of the job.
"She wasn't my girlfriend," Zach groaned, "and if you must know, it was the girl from Spain."
Jonas let out a loud laugh. "Belisa from Barcelona with the big—"
"Alliteration?" Bex cut in with a snort. "Stay classy, Zach." I had to suppress a smile. Employed by the government or not (for reasons unknown to me), they still seemed so regular. I mean, if you can ignore the globe hopping and being my bodyguards. I've lived in Roseville my entire life, where the most exciting thing to happen is Tina Walters' birthday bashes, and right now, I have never been more intrigued with people around my age. Ever.
Before Zach could defend himself, Rachel cleared her throat authoritatively. "Perhaps," she began, looking pointedly at Abby, "we should get on with this meeting." Abby nodded in agreement and brought her manila folder out again.
"Let's get this show on the road," she started. "Everybody, this is Cammie Morgan. Two days ago, she witnessed the murder of Louis Helms in Roseville, D.C. As you all know, Helms has been regarded as a chief crime lord in the underground circuit. Murder, extortion, he's done it all. " The group nodded like this was all trivial knowledge, but I could feel my stomach drop. Because knowing you witnessed the murder of somebody who was very likely to be an expert in that field was nothing short of terrifying.
On the plane ride here, I had been in a daze thinking about the man who was killed. I wondered if he had a family, a job, just what his life was like. Now, I wasn't too sure that calling him a victim was appropriate.
Judging from my clammy hands and short breath, my body agreed with me. This is the information that I had so desperately wanted. So why was it so hard to take? "...About a day after the shooting, three men were released from prison on bail. Jack and Mark Surrey and Vern Seward, all there for having a hand in of E. M. Wilson." More nods from the group. More nods on my side.
"Now, we don't know if they're in the city, but we do know that they have a grudge against Helms for reasons currently unknown. Their release is being investigated right now, but our only lead is that whoever bailed them out must be loaded. Sources tell us that they may have had something to do with Helms' murder." Abby inhaled.
"As Cammie told the police officers, the killer did in fact see her and I'm willing to bet this penthouse that the killer is going to send the Surreys and Seward after her. Roseville is a small place, it's easy to match a face to a name. We have word that Seward was making some inquiries into the Roseville High roster. So, for her protection, she will be staying with us." Her voice was entirely too light to be saying this, until I remembered that the passiveness in this room was not due to disinterest, but to desensitization. They were a section of the WPP, they deal with this on a daily basis.
"As I said before, Zach and Bex will be your bodyguards—" She gestured at the two of them. Bex gave a two finger wave and Zach smirked a bit. Abby must have detected my skepticism, because she added quickly, "and if they weren't the best, we wouldn't have assigned them to you." I let out a small sigh of relief.
"Jonas is our tech and tracking guy, he knows police and government databases like most people know their phone number. Walter, Rachel, and I are gathering as much information about this case as possible and we're going to make sure that your new identity is airtight. Joe Solomon is the head of this case, so he's the man to see if you have any problems." She looked to Rachel. "Think I covered everything?"
"I think so," Rachel said, "so now we need to get to number two on our agenda and the most important: concealment and disguise."
Out of all the questions I could have asked during this spiel—how could the killer identify me? Who are your sources? How do you know all of this?—I had to ask this one. "What's that?" I asked, hating myself in the process.
Bex turned to me with a huge grin. "Makeover."
Bex's Room, 15th Floor Penthouse, Lexington-Brayburn Building
5:58 PM.
Three hours later, I couldn't recognize the girl in the mirror.
If they had meant to completely get rid of the image I had in my head of myself, they succeeded. Armed with scissors, hair dye, and a tackle box full of things that were sure to be contraband, Bex, Rachel, and Abby had transformed me.
My mid-length light brown hair was cut to my shoulders and dyed a dark brown. My blue-green eyes were covered up with brown contacts. Bex had done something with my eyebrows that included a small needle and some thread (it didn't hurt at all, surprisingly). Abby had gave me some lip gloss that made my thin lips slightly fuller. When I asked if it was like plastic surgery, she laughed and said this is the stuff that plastic surgeons wished they could use.
If you had taken a picture of my three hours ago and one now, there could be absolutely no comparisons made. They had made me into a new person.
"Hey, stranger," Bex greeted, entering the room. I was so wrapped up in my new appearance that I didn't notice that I was actually in her room. The room was spacious and painted a bright yellow. Posters of countless bands decorated the walls. The furniture looked like it had to be straight from a thrift store, which the plasma screen TV instantly negated. It made my room back home look so boring. Then again, Bex did the same thing to me.
"Bex, hi," I said awkwardly. Bodyguard or not, I didn't know her all that well and the idea of sharing a room with her was sort of rattling.
She plopped down on her unmade bed. "Sorry I couldn't properly greet you. Abby likes to run meetings like she's in the army or something."
"It's cool."
Obviously my answer didn't suffice for her, because she asked, "so, how are you feeling? This all must be..." She paused, thinking of the correct word. "...very weird." She didn't know the half of it.
Weird? This was my definition of freaking bizarre. "It's different, I guess." I took her silence as a cue to go on. "I mean, yeah, I was a little shaken. But I can't complain. I'm safe. At least right. And in Manhattan. My friends—" I choked on that word. I didn't consider many people in Roseville High my friends, save for DeeDee. But I could only take the girl's perkiness in very, very small doses. "—would die if they knew."
"Yeah," Bex said with a sigh, "I'm pretty sure a lot of people would die over this." I had to bite back a gasp, and I felt the sinking sensation in my stomach again. She saw my horror struck expression and laughed. "I was joking."
I started unpacking clothes at the speed of light, if only to cover my blushing cheeks. "I know." I wonder if she knew that she was a bit intimidating.
After a few moments of silence, I felt like I had to say something. Turning the question tables on her seemed like a good idea. "So, Bex. How...old are you?" This question may have been pointless, seeing as she looked to be the same age as me.
"Seventeen," she stated simply. Practically reading my mind, she added, "Zach and Jonas are too. You're sixteen, aren't you?"
"Yes." I wanted to brush that little detail away. Time for the bigger questions. "And if you're seventeen, how do you..." I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that question.
She raised an eyebrow. "Work for the WPP?" she finished. I nodded. "The three of us were recruited. A lot of paperwork was involved, let me tell you. But, it's pretty easy to fake a birth certificate."
"How do you get recruited?" I asked, not even bothering to hide my curiosity. So much for being blase and cool.
Bex cleared her throat, and I could tell it was going to be a doozy of a story. "Well, I wasn't the most well behaved student at my school. You know, the usual. Cutting class, picking locks, taking teachers' cars out for joy rides, forging my report cards..." She frowned. "Okay, maybe the usual wasn't the best way to put that, huh?" Talk about the understatement of the year.
"I was just so bored with everything. The coursework was ridiculously easy, advanced classes included. It was hell at that school, being forced to spend the day with absolute morons. I wanted an escape." Now that resonated with me. It was exactly how I had felt in Roseville, minus the crime. "But one day, I tried to steal the wrong car."
"Whose car?" I asked slowly.
"Abby's. Her car was the same as my chemistry teacher's." Bex snickered at the memory. "Needless to say, she was pretty pissed and actually marched me back down to school to the dean of discipline. He wasn't surprised to see me, by the way. I was a permanent fixture there. He pulled out this huge file with all of my misdemeanors on it, including all of the forging and lock picking. Abby said she'd talk to my parents later. Instead, she sent me a letter."
Awestruck, I sputtered, "A letter of what?"
"A letter asking me if I'd like to join the junior division of a government sect involving crime solving. Which later turned into working with her at the WPP. I guess she was impressed." She sighed and lied down on her back. "Talk about excitement, eh? My parents think I'm at boarding school."
Hell, I was pretty damn impressed. I didn't even know there were sects of the government like that, it was absolutely mad. "And Jonas and Zach? How did they get recruited?" I was almost afraid to hear their stories.
"Well, Jonas' story is less fabulous than mine, darling," she said with a posh accent, "He got busted for sending a series of nasty viruses to the CIA computer database."
Was that her definition of less fabulous? That was my definition of awesome. "What did they do? How mad were they?"
"Mad?" she snorted. "They practically worship him in the computer department over there for managing to bypass the system and other tech-y stuff like that. Jonas not joining the CIA or WPP would be more of a crime."
"So, you're all part of the CIA?" CIA meant espionage. Espionage meant spies. Was the teenage girl in front of me really a spy?
"If you want to get technical, yeah. We all had to go through training together in Langley. But we work for the WPP." She paused. "Shit, I'm not sure if you're supposed to know that. Oh well." Before I could get swept up in asking even more questions about joining the CIA at such a young age—because honestly, that had to be the most badass thing ever—I forced myself to ask about Zach.
"And Zach?"
Bex hesitated for a minute before answering. "I know a lot of things about him, but I don't think he's ever told me how he got in here. Or anyone. I just never knew that about Zach."
"What don't you know about me?" Speak of the devil. Zach casually strolled into the room like he owned the place, flopping right on Bex's bed, much to her displeasure. Judging from the conversations about Belisa from Barcelona and just his overall aura, many girls would probably kill to be in her shoes at that moment.
Bex rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you think you can just come in here without knocking," she growled. She aimed one swift kick aimed at his chest and Zach toppled to the floor. After feigning pain (I hope he was feigning pain, that look like it hurt), he walked over to the chair next to my bed and sat down.
"Don't let her corrupt you, Cammie," he advised wisely. His face was dead serious, but his eyes were playful. The only boy I ever described as hot was Josh Abrams, and he was sort of an asshole. Zach was on a completely different level than him, I could figure that much right off the bat.
"Is there a reason you're here?" Bex said testily. "Besides to annoy the hell out of me?"
"What, is it such a crime to come visit my dear friend Rebecca and my new dear friend Cameron?" He placed a hand to his heart and turned to me. "I hope you're not as mean as Bex. I don't think I can deal with anymore crazy estrogen in this house."
To my surprise, I managed a grin of my own. "Don't count on it." Bex gave me an air high-five, which I returned with glee. At least I was back to acting like a functioning human being.
He stood up from the chair. "Oh, well. It was worth a shot," he said with a smirk. "But anyways, Solomon is here and he wants to fill Cammie in on this school business." He said the word school like most people would say snot.
Bex hopped up off her bed. "Time to meet Old Wise One, eh?" She gestured at me to get up as well. "At least he's easy on the eyes," she murmured. I took one more glance in the mirror at my new self. The change would be hard to get used to, that much was sure.
"It's not permanent, you know," Zach said, startling me. I guess I didn't realize he was waiting for me.
I sighed. "I know."
"Nothing's ever permanent," he added cryptically with a shrug, walking out of the room without a second look in my direction. Nothing's ever permanent, I repeated in my head as I made my way back to the living room.
For my sake, I hope he was right.
an: yay, an update that's pretty close to my last update. i feel like a loser for celebrating that :P
school is next. here's a hint: any major canon character that hasn't been introduced yet will be in the next chapter.
hope you all liked the chapter. be sure to tell me what you thought of it!
- asha (:
ps: for anybody out there who watched the latest episode of skins (effy's episode): WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? i am still in shock over the ending. season finale in next week!