Welp guys, it's been while. In fact, it's been over a year since my last update. Where has the time gone? After recently deciding to reread all the Gallagher Girl novels, I decided to reread my own fanfiction, at which point I remembered that I never actually finished it. It's been so long that I have no idea where I was going with it. So here we go! Let's finish this thing for real this time!

Expect more updates (unlike the last time I said that!)

-tickgrey

For what seemed like the millionth time in the past year, I found myself on an airplane, Macey's private jet to be specific. After I decoded my mother's secret message, the whole gang got back together for what would hopefully be one last battle against the Circle. Abby and Townsend sat up near the front. Together. They were actually getting along. Of course, it was only a matter of time until we heard shouts about Buenos Aires again. Mr. Solomon sat behind them, sleeping. I suspect he had some spy lesson about how planes are the perfect time to get some rest before a crucial operation, but I let a sleeping dog lie. Liz, Macey, Zach, and Bex sat near me, still curious about what we were actually doing.

"Alright, so why are we going to Paris?" Bex asked.

"Mr. Solomon found an encoded letter left for me by my mother and hidden in the wall of her office along with files on me from different agencies," I began. "He didn't understand it and assumed it was intended for me, and I didn't initially understand it either. Eventually I remembered it though. I had been trying to decode it the whole time using some old secret language or system we had worked out, but it turns out it's actually just gibberish. The words literally mean nothing. What's important is the shape of the letter."

Macey prodded, "And? What's it mean?"

I cleared my throat, "Mom used to have this sort of abstract painting of the Paris skyline in our house in Arlington. It's reasonably accurate, with a few artistic liberties. She loved it and used to talk to me about it all the time, pointing out places she and Dad had been together. If you turn the letter on its side, it looks just like part of the painting. The last line says 'search office,' but what if she wasn't talking about her office but an office in the skyline."

"And are there any offices in this part of the skyline?" Liz leaned in anxiously.

I smiled and nodded. "There's only one. We've got them. We've got their headquarters. I'm sure of it."

Zach paused, "Why didn't she share this information sooner? Why keep tracking down Circle members in Germany and all across Europe if she already knew the headquarters? Why not tell Joe or Abby or anyone?"

I shrugged, "My best guess is that she didn't think we had the resources. There weren't many people she could rely on at that point. The CIA was still being kept out of the loop for the most part, and we were really running thin on resources."

"What if she was worried about a leak in the Academy?" Bex suggested. "Maybe she was afraid that someone close to her was sharing secrets?"

I looked around at the people on the plane and lowered my voice slightly. "I really hope not. I don't even know who it could be. She seemed to trust everyone on this plane at least."

"Surely it's not Abby," Macey added.

"Of course not," I agreed. "Townsend and Solomon both have had ample opportunities to really destroy operations and neither have. Solomon wasn't even conscious for almost half a year."

"If not them, then who?" Liz asked.

I shrugged. "Just keep an eye out, guys. You never know."

The jet landed in Paris, making this the first time we had flown to Paris in Macey's jet with the actual intention of staying in Paris. We didn't have to run from our teachers or my mom this time, so landing in Paris was reasonably safe. After all, the Circle had no idea that we were coming.

Mr. Solomon seemed to take charge when we arrived on the tarmac, which was a welcome change from the bickering of Abby and Townsend, "Alright, Abby will take Zach, Macey, and Liz in one car, and Townsend, Bex, Cammie, and I will take the other car."

For once, no one argued or tried to assert leadership as we climbed into the two almost identical sedans. Bex and I sat in the back seat, which was strangely nostalgic for me. So many of our operations in the past had begun with Bex and me in the back seat of a car with little idea what was going to happen when we arrived.

After a long drive, we wound up at a mid-sized hotel at the edge of the city. It was a little run-down, but the sight lines and escape routes couldn't be beaten. It was exactly the sort of place I'd expect Mr. Solomon to pick after listening to his lectures for so long.

Mr. Solomon stopped the car and parked next to Abby, who had unsurprisingly arrived long before us. Townsend popped out immediately and called, "Did you have to turn this into some sort of race, Abigail?"

"Ever heard of a time sensitive operation, Edward?" Abby countered. The two of them continued grumbling on their way in. I started to follow along with my friends inside, but Mr. Solomon stopped me.

"Cammie, let's talk for a minute first," he asserted. Normally, I remarked that he only wanted to talk because he thought I was a mentally unstable, revenge-seeking liability, but Mr. Solomon seemed serious, so I followed him to the lot behind the hotel.

"Listen, I don't want you to mistake what's going on here," he began. "This isn't revenge, what we're doing here now."

"I don't follow."

"We're here, in Paris, going after the Circle, because we have decent intel from a good operative that this is where their headquarters are," he lectured. This felt like CoveOps class all over again. "We're here to do reconnaissance, gather information about movements and possible entry points, and see what we can find while we're here. We're not here to try to take the entire organization down on our own."

"I thought the point of this was to take them down for good," I retorted.

He shook his head, "There are eight of us plus maybe Bex's parents and who knows how many of them in that building. That's just not good trade craft. We gather our intelligence and give it to the CIA. If the information is good enough, they will act on it regardless of the internal investigation into our operation."

"I'm not leaving this city until the Circle is gone forever or you're dragging me back home in a body bag," I informed him. I stared him down to let him know just how serious I was about this.

"This is a job for the CIA to handle-"

"No," I cut him off. "Getting my mother back home alive was a job for the CIA to handle. Taking the Circle down in the first place was a job for the CIA to handle. This is down to us now."

Mr. Solomon sighed deeply. He looked around us, partially surveying the area and partially buying some time before replying, "If you're dead set on doing this, which I still advise against, then I will be here until the end. I promised both of your parents that I would protect you, and I will not let your father down again."

I gulped, "You really don't have to do that. You don't have to risk your life as well."

"You don't seem to understand," he tried to stay stoic, but I noticed him start to tear up a little, "You're about all I have left, and I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to protect you."