"So I guess the question is," Bex said, crossing her arms, "what are we gonna do about it?"
Covert Operations Report
By Cameron Morgan, Macey McHenry, Elizabeth Sutton, and Rebecca Baxter (hereafter referred to as "The Operatives")
During a routine civilian engagement, Operatives McHenry and Morgan were attacked by figures representing an unknown organization with unknown affiliations and unknown goals.
After two weeks of extensive research (and some particularly fine computer hacking by agent Sutton), The Operatives learned the following:
There are no fewer than two dozen international lawsuits filed against McHenry Cosmetics (even though the Eye
Rejuvenation cream clearly states on the label that temporary blindness is a possible side effect).
Much to Macey's shock, Senator McHenry does not appear to have any illegitimate children (that The Operatives know about).
No one holding a significant amount of stock in Macey's mom's company made a significant gamble that the price of the stock would go down following the kidnapping attempt.
The McHenry family has approximately seventy-six disgruntled former servants (of whom, Macey swears, only seventy-five have cause to be really, truly angry).
It's easy to imagine that a family of spies would have a lot of enemies. Well, turns out we've got nothing on politicians and people who manufacture semi-dangerous cosmetics. By the time we'd run down every shady business deal and political scandal, the list of suspects was long—like, the number of digits of pi that Liz knows by heart, long—and I wasn't sleeping any easier.
"It's impossible," I told Bex one day in P&E, but Bex, sadly, misunderstood, because instead of commiserating, she grabbed my arm and executed the most perfect Axley Maneuver I'd ever seen.
"Ow," I said, looking up at her. But Bex just laughed.
"Wuss," she said, then stepped back to illustrate. "It's not impossible. All you have to do is shift your weight in a counter—"
"Not the move," I snapped as I climbed to my feet, shifted my weight, and showed her. "Macey," I whispered as she landed on the mat.
"Oh," Bex said, staring up at me.
Outside, the first hints of color were appearing on the trees, and the wind was growing cooler. Fall was coming soon, and yet the mysteries of summer were still alive and well.
"I touched them, Bex," I said, my voice low against the steady din of grunts and kicks that filled the loft. My breath came harder. "I heard their voices and smelled their breath and I can't tell you anything about them except…" I trailed off. But Bex, who is excellent in both the spy and best friend departments, read my mind. "It's the ring, isn't it?"
Beads of sweat ran from my forehead to my chin, but I didn't wipe them away. "I've seen that emblem somewhere before."
"I believe you, Cam," Bex started slowly. "But didn't you sketch it for Liz and have her run it through the CIA database?"
"Yes."
"And if they are as good as you say, then do you really think that woman would wear a ring that could lead us to her? It's a mistake," Bex finished, and I just stood there, the unspoken truth settling around us: they didn't make mistakes.
"Morgan!" our teacher called. "Baxter! Back to work, please."
I pulled Bex to her feet.
"You know," Bex said, "there is one resource we haven't utilized yet."
Through the window, I saw my mother crossing the grounds.
"No!" I snapped as Bex lunged toward me, her foot sailing far too close to my ear for comfort. "I am not spying on my mom again," I said, maybe too loudly considering that Tina Walters and Eva Alvarez were ten feet away.
"Who said anything about your mom?" Bex whispered to me, gesturing behind us at the rock wall and Mr. Solomon.
"No way," I whispered. "Mom was bad enough, but Mr. Solomon would be—"
"Look again," she whispered.
And then I saw that Mr. Solomon was not alone. That he was with someone. That he was smiling. That they were laughing.
And that my best friend in the world thought that I should snoop on my aunt Abby.
I would like to point out that, despite evidence to the contrary, I don't like breaking rules. I do not enjoy violating people's privacy—especially people I love. And I try to never, ever stick my nose into other people's business. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that what was happening with Macey had become my business when I fell forty feet through a metal shaft and landed in a cart full of dirty laundry.
So that's why we huddled in our suite that Thursday night.
And that's why I didn't protest as Bex asked, "So, everyone clear?"
Macey laced up her running shoes and Liz gripped her flashlight, while I just sat there telling myself that there's a big difference between spying and snooping, and espionage isn't so much about uncovering embarrassing things as it is, you know, about saving lives (and other important stuff).
Macey was safe. The Secret Service and Aunt Abby were on the case. But if someone was hunting Gallagher Girls, then none of us would rest until we knew who. And why.
Covert Operations Report PHASE ONE 1830 hours
On the night of October 1, Operative McHenry announced to the entire post-dinner crowd in the Grand Hall that she was going for a run in the woods.
Agent Abigail Cameron announced that the protectee wasn't allowed in the woods alone, and that Agent Cameron had a headache, so therefore, the proctectee wasn't going anywhere.
Operative McHenry (a.k.a., the proctectee) announced that she was going for a run and if Agent Cameron didn't like it she could … (Well, let's just say it was in Arabic. And it wasn't very ladylike.)