Home is not a Place

21• He Can't Be Dead

"No. Now, cut out the games. Are you going to give us coms or not?" Ethan seems pissed, so I cut back on my comments and cut straight to the point.

"Yes." I reply as I take out the little tiny coms that my brother invented. They're skin color and non-detectable by metal detectors. Each com is just a miniature circle, yet somehow my brother made them work. They're the safest bet in staying in contact. "Here."

There are three of them that I hand over, one for each of them. I continue on, pulling out a small contact case. I pass it to Ethan, him automatically knowing what is inside.

My brother also invented undetectable contacts that record what the user is seeing. Ethan will wear it and will be able to show us who is at the meeting. We will be able to catalog all the photos, probably identifying some buyers who are wanted and maybe some criminals who haven't surfaced yet.

"We'll be tailing you during the rest of the week, so don't bother wearing the contact until Sunday. Got it?" I ask, watching as Ethan moves to hide the items somewhere safe.

He calls back to me. "Got it."

"Well, I better be getting out of your hair, then." I say loudly enough so that Vanessa can hear me as well.

She glances up, smiling broadly. "Thank you for breakfast. Have a good day."

"I'll be stuck in a van, tailing you two the whole time." I mutter. "What could be better?"

"A lot of things." Vanessa responds as she takes another bite of her scrambled eggs. "I can think of 20 off the top of my head."

I roll my eyes, smirking. "See you guys later."

Then, I duck out.

I leave the tray sitting in the hallway, and I shove my fake tux underneath the tray's tablecloth. Wearing a shabby T-shirt and jeans, I climb my way up to the roof, where I find a set of stairs trailing down the side of the tall building into a dirty, empty alleyway.

Swiftly, I make my way down the stairs, maneuvering without touching the unsanitary railings. Within a couple minutes, I am at the bottom, eyeing the white van that is parked across the street from the alleyway.

On the side of the van, a fake company emblem is imprinted, thanks to my designing skills and all. The van doesn't look too bad, and it doesn't look out of the ordinary, which is just what I was going for.

When I get into the van, Tony and Felix are in the middle of a conversation, but I don't interject.

The van has a desk on one side of it with three desk chairs. On the same wall of the van, several computer screens hang, displaying nothing at the moment.

I plop in the only empty chair and begin typing away at my computer. On my private network, I begin creating firewalls so that nobody can hack into my system. I'd much rather be safe than sorry.

The first time I learned how to create firewalls was my first year of training under the CIA. I learned from a man named Glen who was the best hacker the CIA had. He had overwhelming skills, and he was the best man a person could meet.

He and Jerome taught me not to give up on father figures because they both became one to me throughout the years.

And sadly only one of them is still alive today.

Glen took me under his wing. He didn't really know Felix all that well because Felix trained under a different teacher for mechanics, electronics, and design. We were on different routes, but I wish he would've known Glen.

"Hey, kid." Glen said the first day we met. It was a few months after my mom, brother, and I got settled in our safe house. "Welcome to the CIA."

Glen was a funky guy. He was bald and had tattoos all over his head and skin. A long brown beard grew from his chin, too. He had wild green eyes, and there wasn't a day that he didn't have a Redbull in his hand. He was skinny, tall, and had a little bit of a slouched posture, but I suppose that's because he sat at a computer all day, hacking away.