High school has a lot of homework. I started this last Saturday…..but I've been so busy! You guys aren't mad, are you? Thanks to my readers and reviewers:

LivieLi: Such a sweetheart! Thanks for the early birthday wish! My real birthday is actually the 11th of October!

LucyReywood: Thanks!

ImogenXx: Hope you like this chapter!

ReillyScarecrowRocka: XD Thanks for the review!

VioletEyes14: YAY, you got an account! Are your eyes violet? That would be so neat! And thanks for the review!

One more chapter after this, guys! They're almost home!

Alex's POV:

"Cammie, I am not doing this. We are not doing this. This is insane!"

Cammie rolled her eyes, then reached out and pulled my stocking cap over my face, "It's necessary. The insanity part is still up for debate."

I groaned, watching as Cammie readied herself for this stupid stunt. She tightened her harness with a yank and fixed the rope to it with a carabineer. Then she pulled out what looked like two halves of a rife and …a grappling hook? "What is that?"

"A grappling hook."

"Where did you get that?"

She beamed, "My Aunt Abby got it for me for my birthday last year. Isn't it great?"

"That's one word for it."

"Why are you suddenly such a wuss?" Cammie asked as she carefully aimed at the roof of the police building, one of three on the lot.

"I'm not a wuss, I'm cautious. Move that another inch to the right," I directed.

"Same thing. Are you sure, a full inch? I don't want to hit the window."

"An inch. And when did you get to be such a daredevil?" I asked as Cammie pulled the trigger and whoosh, the grappling hook flew toward the top of the building.

"You were right. An inch was perfect. And I'm no more of a daredevil then I was," She pulled the rope back and tested it, all the while trying not to put all her weight on it, which was hard considering we were balanced on the top of three stands of barb wire.

"There is no way the Cammie I met in London would have gone along with the sledge hammer spree downtown by someone named Ronny Jailbird so she could break into a jail."

She shrugged and tested the rope again, "The Alex I met in London wouldn't have agreed to break into that jail at all."

I clipped my repelling belt on to the second rope and tested it, "True. This trip has changed a lot of things."

"Like what else?" Cammie asked as she bounced lightly on the barbed wire.

I glanced over at her, staring at the only thing I could see through the ski mask, her eyes. They were greenish-brown in the scant light that reflected off the side of the windows on the building across from us…and she looked she actually wanted to know. "I think-" I started to tell her, but before I could finish, she looked away and pushed off the fence. Swinging across the empty courtyard to the side of the building, she left me standing there alone. Again. I held my breath until her feet gently touched the area between the two of the third story windows. Then I whispered what I had almost told her and swung after her.

Twenty minutes later, we were finally able to get inside one of the locker rooms. Ronny didn't have the locker room location in the right place. Good thing that Cammie listens at keyholes, otherwise we would have been right in the middle of the break room. I knew that guy was too good to be true.

"Hurry up," Cammie hissed, bringing me back to the present, "Find the clothes and let's go. We still have to get the motorcycles."

I nodded and pulled out open my seventh locker. A quick investigation proved that these were just about the right size, so I grabbed everything and shoved it into my bag, leaving the locker completely empty. Which was what some people might call fate considering what happened next.

I had just turned to say something to Cammie when the locker room door burst open. Before she could move, I grabbed her and yanked her back into the locker with me, slamming the door shut behind me.

Before you start thinking that this was a large locker, let me set you straight. It wasn't. It was about five feet tall and maybe a foot wide. I'm six foot one and Cammie's probably five foot six…there was no personal space. My head was jammed in one corner and Cammie's head was squashed into my chest (which I might not have minded if we were in a different location) and her knees were shoved against one side of the locker and I was nearly kneeling on the floor. My backpack was digging into my back and Cam's was on my left foot (it weighted a ton). I'm not entirely sure how we managed it, but we stayed so still I'm not sure if either of us let out a breath.

I could hear the coppers grumbling about the snow and how they had gotten soaked trying to help a tourist get out of a snow bank (hence their early return to the locker room). We waited for as long as we possibly could stand inside the lockers…which was almost 20 minutes. "That was way to close," I muttered as I fell out of the locker behind Cammie.

"Literally and figuratively," she muttered, reaching down to get her things. "Let's get the bikes and get out of here."

She turned and headed toward one of the windows that Ronny's drawings told us was directly over the garage, "Couldn't have said it better myself."

The back of the garage was completely black. The motorcycles were kept in a locked room in the back of the garage that was unused from November to March and so it lacked heat as well as functional lights.

We had found and broken into this room easy enough, finding the bikes was a piece of cake. It was the fact that the bikes didn't have any gasoline in them that was the problem…and the fact that the concrete structure blocked out all hope of cell service.

"I told you this was a terrible idea," I hissed as Cammie paced around one of the bikes, "Ronny is going to distract the officers and we're going to be stuck in here with nine useless bikes."

Cammie stopped her pacing, "Do you have an idea Mr. Teenaged-Super-Spy?"

I took a deep breath and ignored her rude comment, "I think we're going to have to see if there are any gas cans in the main part of the garage."

"There are mechanics in the main part of the garage."

"Are you saying we can't do it?"

She looked at me then pulled the mask back over her face, "Let's go."

I watched helplessly as Cammie crawled across the concrete floor towards a full gas can. She had told me to wait for her and if necessary 'abandon ship and go get backup'. Like I'd leave her here. I'd learned my lesson from leaving Bex in Belgium.

She had reached the gas can when there was a crash that rattled the whole building. The two mechanics looked at each other and raced for the door to see what had happened.

"I AM INNOCENT; YOU CAN'T LOCK ME AWAY LIKE AN ANIMAL!" I heard Ronny yell, followed by breaking glass. Our distraction was starting without us and if we didn't hurry, we'd have to get out of here by ourselves.

Cammie popped up and grabbed the gas can, "Go, go!" She scream/whispered, "We don't have much time!"

I grabbed the gas can from her and raced back towards the motorcycles. Running to the nearest one, I fairly ripped the gas tank cover off and poured half of the gas into it. Then I spun around and dumped the rest of the gas into Cammie's bike and discarded the empty can so I could reattach the cap and start up the motor.

"I think our distraction's gone," Cammie said as we mounted our bikes. "We're just going to have to make a run for it."

I nodded grimly and adjusted my backpack. "Let's split up. We'll meet at Morty's ASAP."

"Good luck," she said with a nod.

She jammed her foot down on the pedal and the bike roared to life, I quickly followed suit. Let the race begin.

We flew through the garage, knocking things over and making enough noise to wake the dead. Cammie flew out the man-door to the left and I bashed through the half open one to the right. I could hear shouts behind me, but I just bent lower on the bike and pushed the accelerator as far down as I could.

I reached the gate right behind Cammie, close enough to feel the splinters falling behind her as she broke through a wooden barrier. I was glad again for the helmets we had taken.

The sound of bullets ricocheting off things entirely too close to me made my heart speed up. I made a tight turn to the left, and onto a road that would take me father away from Morty's house. I couldn't look back to see if Cammie was okay, all I could do was cross my fingers and pray that we'd both get back in one piece.

Cliffy! The last cliffy of this story, I promise!

Please review, it makes my day!

~Striker