And here we are! Hot off the presses, it's chapter 10! Woot! I'm probably a bit too energetic tonight, but I had a lot of Girl Scout cookies and listening to Tears for Fears always gets me in a great mood. You know, I've noticed that these little intros of mine always have ridiculous typos because I don't really edit them, so I went back and changed some pretty weird mistakes earlier today (and yes, I'm sure there's like fifty in this now.) Anyways, I'll let you get to reading. I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I like any writing that allows me to work in the word 'pleather', so hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I have. Man, I always feel like I'm giving up a baby when I publish these. Being in the double didget chapters feels great! Anyways, thanks for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! As always, I write for you guys, so it's great getting feedback (whether positive or negative!) Yours faithfully, tickgrey

I woke up abruptly. I panicked for a second. I had almost forgotten where I was until I saw the blue pleather in front of me. I was on an airplane. The old lady next to me look worried about me (probably stemming from the fact that I had practically passed out for the entire flight.) We must have landed because everyone around me was starting to grab their bags to leave. Between the long flight and hours of waiting in the Ronald Reagan International Airport, the only plan I had managed to come up with was getting seen. Every camera, every person, and every customs station was an ally right now. Anything traceable was a friend (which was why I may have grabbed Macey's credit card on the way out.) It was a stupid plan, but it made sense to me. The Circle wanted me dead, and I wanted to find them. It made things so much easier for both of us to just let them find me.

So as I walked through the terminal, I smiled at a camera as if to acknowledge its presence. In fact, I made sure to zig zag my way through every camera I could find. I look up to see a friendly looking sign that hung above the exit reading "Welcome to London!" I passed through customs without any troubles (using my own passport) and exited to greet cool the outside air. It felt like freedom.

I wasn't really sure how this whole drawing out the Circle thing went, but I was pretty sure that all I had to do was get on their radar somehow. The best way that I knew to do this was to get in every camera possible: ATMs, banks, museums, even traffic cameras. I also figured that it was important that the Circle know I was alone. I let it slip to a barista at a coffee shop that my parents weren't with me (though the Circle was the cause of that.) But mostly, I just watched my tail and followed the best CoveOps advice I'd ever been given: notice things.

One thing I noticed almost immediately after my parade through the cameras was that I did in fact have a tail, but it definitely wasn't the Circle. I slipped into the closest ally and waited for my tail to catch up. I'm pretty sure I startled him when I called after him as he started to walk by, "Agent Townsend?"

The British agent stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. I couldn't quite tell whether it was annoyance or pride that flashed in his familiar blue eyes as he said, "Hello, young lady."

"Why are you following me?" I asked. I was honestly a little shocked he was following me. For one, I hadn't noticed him until now, and according to Professor Buckingham, he had been working with my mother when she was taken, so I assumed he'd either be in meetings to sort things out or actively searching too. But somehow he was standing there tailing me.

He smiled, "You didn't think anyone would notice that you went missing from that school of yours?"

"That doesn't explain why you're here," I dug for more hoping that for once I would get more.

He replied, "Someone's got to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Why would I do something stupid?" I asked indignantly.

"Well, you've made sure that you've been in every camera angle from here to the airport," he started. I was a little bit impressed that he'd been following me the whole way. "So if I were to make a gander, I'd say you're trying to be seen by someone. Or a particular group of people?"

I shrugged, "Maybe. Or maybe I just like London in the wintertime."

"Well, in any case, it's been agreed upon that you will not be running around in London on your own on a suicide mission, so," he motioned for me to follow him. I did, but only because I figured there was a plan.

We walked for at least forty-five minutes making sure to double back or loop around blocks whenever possible. Townsend was particularly careful that both of us stayed far away from any cameras in the area to my dismay. He was making my plan much more difficult to execute.

Eventually we stopped in front of a nice, old albeit completely ordinary apartment building for which Townsend had the key. After three flights of stairs, we stopped at a door labeled 402. I asked, "Is this a safe house?"

He shook his head, "Nope. This isn't a sanctioned operation, so no mission support."

"So, where are we?" I asked. I got my answer as soon as we got inside. It was a sleek apartment with little character. In fact, it barely looked touched let alone lived in. I knew immediately that it was Townsend's. "You live here?"

He nodded as he walked into a back room. "Don't break anything."

There wasn't really anything about that gave me any hints about him despite my best efforts. There were only a few photographs, but I was pretty sure that everyone in them was dead. There was one, however, that stood out from the others. In it, two young boys were playing on an old swing set. It was faded and crumpled, but I was nearly certain that the boy on the right was Townsend. The other boy looked very similar and had the same blue eyes and ruffled hair as Townsend.

"That's my brother," a melancholy voice behind me said. I nearly jumped, but looked behind me to see a very solemn Townsend. "He died with my parents in a car crash."

Suddenly, I knew that Townsend could probably relate to how I was feeling better than most people could. I never really thought about Townsend having a family or even a childhood, but it all made sense now. For some reason I asked, "How old were you?"

He sighed, "Your age." It looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he quickly turned and walked away towards the office in the back. I saw him grab a phone and dial a number from memory. "I've got her. Yes, she's safe. Alright."

"That aunt of yours says hello and also something about killing you," he waved his hand dismissively. He reserved that particular tone for when he was dealing with Abby.

"So what now?" I asked. I was ready to get to work.

He shrugged, "We come up with a plan. A good plan."