Chapter Two

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Turns out, my mother was right. She usually is. Writing those reports during high school really helped me write this. Now that I'm an actual field agent, I guess you'll be reading these mission reports a lot more.

I headed up to my dorm room for my upcoming mission. I pulled down my cheetah print suitcase (don't ever let Liz pick out your luggage for you when she's feeling girly) and looked through my small closet.

I threw the clothes I would need in the dreaded suitcase, placing the rest and the miscellaneous object I had brought to college in a box Townsend had given to me. Since my mission of recruiting potential assests at Georgetown University was finished, the CIA decided to pull me out of college and place me on an official mission. I zipped up my overflowing suitcase and pulled Townsend's file out from under my jacket.

Since the other girls in my dorm were in the main room, I decided to go to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door, then turned around to survey my new headquarters. The sink was clogged with hair, the counter had all of the curling irons a girl could want, and the mirror was cracked. (Long story short, someone decided to surprise me while I was showering and let's just say they walked out of there with quite a few injuries.) I plunked down on the toilet seat and opened the file. Just then, I heard the front door slam open and my roommate, Sophie, frantically calling my name. I threw the file under the sink and stepped outside into the hall.

"Hey, Cammie, have you seen my running shoes anywhere? I really need them for track, and Converse just won't work." Sophie was very athletic (not as athletic as any Gallagher Girl, but of course she didn't know that), resulting in a scholarship for her education at Georgetown.

"I saw them on the closet floor," I answered.

She ran down the hall into our room. I could hear her rummaging through the clutter on the closet floor. She ran back into the hall. "Thanks." She started moving toward the door, but stopped when she noticed my bare walls. "Are you moving or something?"

"Yeah" I sighed. "A situation came up and my family needs me to stay at home."

"Oh." She gave me a hug. "I hope everything will work out," she said somberly, and slipped out the door.

I headed back into my ghetto headquarters, opened up the cabinet doors to the sink, and pulled out Townsend's file. It was a little wet on the outside from the dripping sink pipes, but when I opened it up, the papers inside were dry. I sat down on the toilet and started skimming over the pages. It seemed like this mission could take awhile.

Nobody (the CIA, NSA, MI5, MI6, Interpol, just to name a few) seemed to have any valuable information on whoever was leading the rouge group. All they knew is that he/she was planning something big and dangerous. I skipped to the back to learn about my part in this mission. We would be tailing and collecting information about him/her for a few weeks (don't even ask me how we're going to that with so little information), capture and interrogate him/her, than leave some senior agents to handle the rest.

I looked at who was assigned to the mission. 'Cameron Morgan, Zachary Goode, Rebecca Baxter,' The CIA must be doing a joint mission with the MI6. 'Grant Newman,' Aww, how sweet. Bex can admire his muscles while fighting off assassins. 'Macey McHenry,' How'd she get a break from the Secret Service? 'Preston Winters?!' The kid whose dad worked for the Circle of Cavan and tried to kill me?! I looked across from his name, which stated that he was a NSA base operator in training and would accompany us during this mission. I am going to have a lot of questions for Macey and Preston... I looked down the list further. 'Elizabeth Sutton, Jonas Anderson'?! Uh-oh. They better not be in the field with us. I looked at what they were doing. 'Research in the field' the list stated. Double uh-oh. They're working in the field with us.

Whenever I'm somewhere dangerous, I want Liz on a computer far, far away.

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