The Model Spy

Chapter 7 - Painting the Roses Red (With Blood)

I was nearly behind Zach when I was intercepted by two rough arms. They grabbed me by my shoulders and held me back.

“Let me go!” I yelled without thinking. My first thought was that I was caught by the bearded man’s accomplice. He would grab me and Zach wouldn’t even know I’d have disappeared.

The man forcefully turned me to face him as I struggled ferociously. In mid-kick, I was startled to see it was a French policeman. His face, hidden behind a dark mustache, didn’t look too happy. Other agents had gotten arrested by the local police before while on missions. It sort of came with the job. Luckily, all law enforcement officials learned a secret code that revealed our occupation. Then we were free to go. We were kind of a team.

“Why so fast little girl?” he asked as he pulled me to the side of the sidewalk, out of the pedestrians’ ways. A blush crept along my face as they walked past, staring at me. Now I knew what it was like to be on the other side of a rubbernecking situation.

I saw Zach getting smaller, his figure disappearing into the crowd. I was going to lose him!

“Did you know Allan Pinkerton founded the first intelligence agency in America,” I said, referring to the man responsible for spying for the Union during the Civil War. It was around that time when he established the first espionage agency (CIA history class was my favorite subject at the headquarters).

The cop nodded quickly and, without a word, let go of my arm. I broke into a sprint down the street. Zach had just turned down another alley.

I followed, losing my sandal in the process. “Gross!” I said to myself as my bare foot made contact with the slimy ground. I turned around, but forced myself to keep running. I didn’t have time to care about a sandal. Even if it was from one of the most expensive stores in Los Angeles.

I lost Zach for a second, but the crowd ahead of me parted to the side, clearing the way. I knew right away that was where Zach and the man were. I charged after them, but no one parted for me. Again I had to resort to shoving people to the side. I was positive that I got cursed at in five different languages.

Zach sprinted down the metro steps. Great, more people!

I ran down the steps two at a time, knocking people coming up right back down again. There was no stopping this man. It was just like a criminal to try and escape using one of the busiest metro systems in Europe. He probably knew this place better than we did.

He led us down the tracks and through a construction barricade on the platform. He doggedly turned a corner at the last second. I saw Zach, his speed almost causing him to fall over, make a sharp turn into an empty hallway. I followed, a painful side sticker slowing me down. I always hated running, but it came with the job. There was always a downside to each job. Or a few downsides, in my case.

I turned sharply, colliding with Zach. I grasped at his arm to stop my fall. He promptly pushed me away.

“I thought I told you to stay there,” he said as he gasped for breath.

“I wasn’t...just going...to stand...there,” I told him breathlessly, barely hearing myself over the thumping of my heart. It would take ages for its pace to get back to normal. “Where did he go?” I asked, looking around.

Zach shook his head. “I don’t know. He just disappeared.”

We stood there, catching our breath, when suddenly we were both grabbed roughly by the back of our necks.

It was the man! Where did he come from? I should have been paying more attention! He had one hand clutching Zach’s neck and the other clutching mine. He was so strong! Before we had time to fight back, he dragged us both to the tracks and banged both of our heads together like symbols. The hard crack echoed throughout the empty part of the metro. With a rough push, Zach and I were flung to the tracks feet below and left completely disoriented as he fled.