Christin Solomon

Chapter 13-Here in Rome

A/N: I say it once, I say it a thousand times, but I'll repeat myself again, thanks for the reviews! I'm not really sure where I'm going with this chapter, so please bear with me if it's bad or doesn't fit or something, I am sorry.

Christin's POV

"Go to the Baltimore Airport where a ticket to Italy will be waiting. If Rome is to survive, I beg of you to come." The voice ended and I waited, but nothing else came on. I didn't even look at James; I sprinted to my room, and packed all my spy equipment and weapons.

"You can't honestly believe it!" James shouted. I shook my head, for once in my entire life, I wasn't sure, not like I was going to admit that though.

"No one threatens Rome." I muttered. In the back of my mind, Italy was my home; I couldn't just sit here in America. If something really was wrong, I had to try to stop it . . . at all costs.

"No!" James roared. I grabbed my duffle bag and ran from my room. James was most literally on my tail. I snuck a quick glance at a mirror and saw his hand outstretched to grab the strap of the bag, but I spun out of range, and pushed my legs harder. In front of the Gallagher Academy Garage was an Aston Martin V12 Vantage, basically missile proof, and my baby. I threw my stuff in and hauled butt away from the academy. Looking in the rear view, I saw James standing there in the rain, looking defeated.

"I'm sorry." I mouthed as if he could hear me. I spun on to the interstate and headed toward Baltimore. Luckily there was no traffic and I was going a good ninety miles per an hour, instead of the average two hour drive, it took me one. Parking my car in the first class section, I jogged to the Ticket Booth where the ticket was waiting. As I walked away, I looked at the ticket, and it said in big, bold letters, FIRST CLASS. Wow, I feel so loved. I went through a special hallway for people that had concealed weapons for a good reason and came to my terminal. Once again, I got lucky, and my bag fit in the Carry On holders above the seats. I fell into a seat that was soft and comfy and buckled my seat belt.

"Please buckle your seatbelts. We will be taking off to Italy in a few minutes." One of the flight attendants commanded enthusiastically. Ugh, they were so bright and bubbly, how could anyone stand them? After what seemed like forever, the plane took off and was twenty thousand and seventy feet in the air. Instinctively, I memorized every dang person on the plane, except the pilots. But that problem was quickly fixed because I hacked into the Airport Pilots System to see who was flying the plane. Paranoid? Yes. Mind racing like a cheetah? Yes. Tired or Exhausted? No, I had too much adrenaline running through me for my mind or body to feel like I needed to rest. But it was an eight hour and thirty five minute flight so I might nap in between. My phone went off. The caller id was a number I had memorized by heart, daddy's number.

"Hello" I greeted casually, I heard my dad's sigh of relief and instantly felt guilty.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked carefully, making an effort to control whatever emotion was coursing through him.

"Saving Rome?" I questioned, dancing around his question, another deep sigh.

"Just be careful, I can't lose you too." My dad admitted. All my life it was basically do what ever you want, now I knew what was really going through his mind.

"I love you daddy." I said quietly.

"I love you too sweetie." Daddy replied before we both hung up the phone. Solomons' never said good bye.

*****************************Eight Hours and Thirty Minutes Later**************************

"Passengers, please buckle your seatbelts, we are descending." The flight attendant informed. After grabbing my duffle bag and heading out of the plane and into the airport, I looked around. In front of the terminal was a chauffer holding a sign that read, S. That's all, just a big whopping S, but it was in cursive.

"Ms. S" The man greeted in Italian, offering to take my bag, but I shook my head, and held it to me a little tighter as we headed to the parking lot where a limo was waiting. When I climbed in and we were driving away, a TV screen rose out of the floor.

"Ms. Sanendora" A male voice addressed.

"And you might be?" Of course, I wasn't going to get an answer.

"Samuel Firgenti," An ugly man with lice infested brown hair and sickly grey skin appeared on the screen, "He plans on blowing up the Leaning Tower of Pisa tomorrow. When the government fired him, he felt he had to . . . make a point. It's your job to stop him before he brings Rome to its knees in terror." The man finished. I nodded.

"Alright" Was all I had to agree too. I didn't need to ask questions because I read in between the lines. The voice transmitter clicked off, but Samuel's picture remained on the screen. Okay, nasty mole on his right cheek placed a little below the eye. EW, it was just plain gross, sometimes my feminine side kicked in. The driver tapped on the window separating us and the limo came to a stop and I stepped out with my bag in tow. In front of me was a beautiful hotel. I passed the front desk, simply flashing the first class card I had found in a compartment in the limo. When I reached the penthouse I would be staying in, there was a note on the marble counter.

Sanendora Spy,

Feel free to use any resources you need. Security on the Tower will be dropped for thirty minutes between 11:30 and 12:00, set up anything you must.

Friends

Cool, I could set up some bugs and video cameras. At eleven thirty, I got to the Leaning Tower of Pisa and wasted no time in doing as I had planned, and left with ten minutes to spare, even after double checking everything. I had never thought I would come back to Rome after what happened to me when I was four. But here I was, here in Rome.

A/N: I know what I'm doing again! Yay! This was totally unexpected! I never thought of sending Christin to Rome! Please Review!