Game of Secrets and Shadows (Book One in the Covert Operations series)

Three

The last few days of the semester seemed to fly by. Spring melted into summer, giving way to warmer temperatures and greener grass. Though it still seemed to rain every few days, the ones in between exhibited clear blue skies and warm weather. It was an indication of the changing of the seasons.

And the ending of an era.

In just a few days, I would be leaving Oaks, never to return again. I would be released into the world, a dangerous operative ready to embark on anything that life was going to throw my way. At least, that's what I was telling myself. While I knew that I'd been given all the training that I could possibly have wished for, nothing prepared for you for the real life like being thrust into the field head first.

Of course, no matter where I ended up, I'd probably ride the desk for a while. That was standard. For the first six months, you'd be lucky to even hold a gun, much less have an opportunity to fire one. Most of my time would probably be spent speaking with useless agency assets, people who exchanged secrets for money and security. I could only hope that I wouldn't be stuck there for long.

A few days had passed since our field exam. The West Wing had been closed off since the attack and the hole in the wall had been covered with a simple blue tarp that flapped angrily whenever there was even the slightest of breezes. It wasn't a good fix but, given that summer holidays were nearly upon us, the Trustees of the school were willing to wait until the students had left for the summer before attempting repairs.

The attackers had gotten away cleanly. Whoever had set the bomb had done so discreetly, so as not to draw attention to themselves. As a result, there were few people to interrogate. The only one worth while, it seemed, was the guy that Max and I had knocked out, and he wasn't willing to talk in the slightest, or so we'd been told. None of us had nearly enough clearance to been in even remote proximity to the events being conducted by MI6, but thanks to Tasha and Henri, we'd been able to garner enough information from their hacking skills to not be completely left in the dark.

But, that man and the school situation was currently the least of my worries. I had a more pressing matter weighing down on my mind.

Max.

It hadn't surprised me when he'd been a little withdrawn the day after the bombing. Hadn't surprised me when he'd all but shut the rest of us out and refused to talk. We'd all learned how to take lives relatively early on. It was simply a part of the job. We killed to protect others. But, it didn't make the task any easier. Especially for someone like Max who was just a fundamentally good person. Sure, he was probably the most skilled male operative in our year. Yes, he was the only person to hit ten bulls-eyes right in a row without a care. Of course, he knew the difference between good guys and bad guys, and knew it well enough to know that he was a good guy.

And it was because he was a good guy that his first kill caused such a spark to go out within him. No doubt he was replaying that instant on a constant loop in his brain—like a never ending video stream that haunted his waking, and non-waking, hours.

Since I knew all of this, it didn't really surprise me when Lia flitted to my side after our final examination—advanced chemistry, which was pretty much code for "learn how to make bombs with the most random things you can find"—and gave me a pleading look.

"Please," she said.

I looked down at her heart-shaped face. My best friend normally wore a mask. She wasn't one to let her emotions show to the world, instead choosing to emit them only to those she really trusted and cared about. That, of course, was how I knew it was serious. When it came to Max, she was as easy to read as a book.

I stopped walking, causing a pair of thirteen-year-olds to hastily side-step me. They shot me hostile looks over there shoulders which I readily ignored. "How is he?"