Miss Classified (Book 3 of the Miss Series)

Two:

Aimee

"Excellent work Agent Johnson!" My commander states as I hand him the USB. It won't be so excellent once they realize what is on that memory stick.

I always bring a laptop, which I have made sure has an extremely safe and almost uncrackable firewall, unless you know the password: fluffyrabbits7ate9#@. I always want to see what is on the USB. If I hand it to the the US without checking what it on it, I could basically be the starter of a war. I need to prepare myself for that kind of information. Besides, if I don't take a look at what's on the stick, I'll never see it again. That's a little unfair isn't it? I was the one who recovered it in the first place.

This stick however, can actually start a war. It details the Russian terrorist's new program. A series of high tech drones which preform different, warlike, functions. Some of them are extremely scary, and I'm not talking about the drones who launch missiles. These drones are much worse. These could start a completely different Cold War, and this time, with real fighting. These drone can take out while cities without being detected first. I have no idea where the hell they gained this tech from, which would probably be my new mission to find out.

"You will be debriefed now, and then we will brief you on your new mission. Well done Agent Johnson." The commander orders. I nod and walk to the briefing room.

The debrief is very quick. They are quite useless, all they do is make sure I have covered all the tracks I could have possibly made and that I didn't kill anybody. I would never kill someone, unless it is completely necessary. I have had to once, and it still eats me inside with guilt. I didn't have a choice though. He was a Chinese man, and I was on a mission in Eastern China, to try and uncover a terrorist organisation base, who were causing civilians a lot of trouble, in both China and the United States, and he has discovered who I was. He shot me before I could shoot him, and he missed my heart, by a few inches. I was nicked at my side, and the bullet broke two ribs. Nothing new. I've been shot four times, including China's. Some were accidents, others weren't.

"Your next mission, Agent Johnson, is a very important one. You will be training Noah James to become a medium level trained operative." My commanding agent explains. Why aren't I being handed a file? I usually have a file. Noah James... the name sounds familiar... Oh. Oh.

"Excuse me?" I confirm. "Noah James, as in the actor Noah James?" My commanding agent nods. So that why I don't have a file because I have to train a playboy idiot how to shoot a few guns and kick a few asses. "This is not part of my job description! I should be out on the field! You need me!" I protest.

"I cannot lie." He sighs, "You are one of our most promising operatives, but, with the situation turning dire," the officer glances at me knowingly, to clearly tell me that he knows I accessed the intel, "We need more skilled agents on the job now." That's complete and utter cow poo.

"You can't be serious?" I scoff, "I am as almost as skilled as the highest agent you have out there!" I bang my fist on the table in frustration.

"That might be true, but you are also a very good trainer. You will not be distracted by his fame and fortune like I know a few of the other trainers would. So end of discussion. You will train Noah James. The film company has agreed to fund the new drone program in return. You know we don't get that kind of money from the state. So quit complaining and remember that you are effectively helping the US stop the terrorists by paying for the drone program." Like that makes me feel any better. It's still a bunch of cow poo seriously.

"Fine. When is he coming?" I sigh.

"Tomorrow morning. You have today and tonight to cool off. Think positively. At least you don't have to fly to a different country. This mission will be easy. You deserve a break, you've just spent three weeks in a foreign country and it wasn't for sightseeing. This will give you chance to gain back your energy for the field. We need you on top of your game." He's trying to make me feel better but it's not really working. He knows how long I can go out on the field. It's where I almost feel needed. It's my battlefield and he knows I can last a lot longer than that, but he's trying, so I nod.

"See you tomorrow." I nod and leave the building. Ironically, it's slap bang in the center of Los Angeles. It's disguised as printing company, well it is, partly. You have to go to the reception desk, and tell them you are here to pick up your printing. Once you have done that, you tell them you are here to pick up 7 copies of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5. The receptionist will press a button and let you in, through the door to the left. It's quite simple really. Once the receptionist knows who you are, you get in extremely easily, without all the pain of the codewords. It is these kind of things which make fun to be a spy, well the code words and hush hush, but mostly the awesome gear - like the latest weaponry and protective lightweight suits and often we are sometime the first to get such technology, which is grand.

~~~~~~~~~
Noah

"I'm warning you now, Noah. The training is vigorous. We can always negotiate with the company to get you a stunt double to do the fighting scenes. It's not that difficult." My agent explains.

"No. It's seriously okay, Tony. I can do this. If this film is what it takes to get me as the face of the next world famous cinema spy, and if this film is going to be what it takes for me to win an Oscar and not just be nominated, I am going to do it. This is my chance. Plus, what I have I got to loose?" I negotiate.

"You have everything to loose, Noah! Your career for starters, if this backfires, not to mention your reputation! If you injure yourself by doing something reckless like this..." He groans in frustration, "Come on Noah. Let's be serious here. Are the risks truly worth it?" I roll my eyes.

"I'm taking the risk, Tony and that's final. It's going to be good fun! What's life without a risk? And I could injure myself by doing something else!" I explain and eventually end the phone call. I'm doing this. Everything is falling into place.

My phone rings again, and I answer it, even though it is an unknown number. "You are progressing very well, Mr James." I hear the voice on the other side say. I recognise it immediately. I know that voice all too well.

"Thank you, Sir."

"If you keep up on this rate, and do everything, according to plan, very good things will be happening. Remember Mr James. The power is in your hands." The voice threatens. I shudder with the implications the word "good things". If I don't do everything according to plan, which is what I am terrible at because I am spontaneous as hell, and because I hate rules, bad things will happen. I cannot afford, this time, to screw everything up. Everything depends on that plan. Everything, and these people aren't the type to give second chances.