Spy School Revolution

Infiltration

Hale Building

CIA Academy of Espionage

Washington, DC

0120 Hours

I crept through the darkness of the empty administration building, making my way up to the record room. My footsteps were nearly silent, as the hallway was padded with a cheap, thin carpet. I carefully peeked around the corner, my gloved fingers lightly resting against the wall for balance. With a jolt, I realized this sort of thing was what Erica probably did on a nightly basis. I was even dressed like Erica: I had donned the sleek black outfit and utility belt that her mother had gifted me. But I wasn't Erica. I would never have been able to pull the plan off alone.

We had made the plan in the afternoon of the previous day. I had enlisted the help of Chip and Jawa in addition to Mike and Zoe. Like Zoe, they were reluctant to believe Erica's innocence at first, but they had ultimately caved. The four of them were in charge of hacking into the school security system to both keep an eye on my progress through the building as well as erasing any footage of me sneaking around. 

Which left me in charge of infiltrating a building, breaking into a record room, and making a clean getaway. The last part was crucial, as I was already under tighter scrutiny due to my friendship with Erica. 

Needless to say, I did not get much sleep before we got up to execute the plan. I was nervous about what I was about to do, sure, but the real issue was Erica. I realized I was terrified for her. At some point during the evening, I started to wish I was the one being blackmailed. At least then Erica would be the one to help me like she always had. She was a much more competent rescuer than I was.

The hallway was clear. I turned the corner and padded down to the third door on the right, labeled Student Records. Unfortunately, the door was locked. Fortunately, the principal had set the combination for the electric keypad. I deftly tapped in the code '12345678', and was satisfied to hear a soft click of the deadbolt sliding open.

Yet another trick Erica had taught me.

I shut the door behind me, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I cast my gaze around the room. Empty, save for a dozen large filing cabinets. I did a more thorough search, looking behind  each row of cabinets. No Erica. Disappointed, I flicked on my flashlight to examine the the room itself.

There had to be a reason Erica had guided me here. The words "student records" on the note weren't just an excuse to get me out of class. I absentmindedly opened one of the cabinet drawers, revealing an enormous quantity of files. Each file was labelled with a students name, which made sense, but it caught my eye. 

Every name was written with the first initial and last name of the student. The exact same way Erica had signed the note. B. Sidebottom, I thought. The principal had once been a student at the academy. I simply needed to find his file.

Luckily, the files were well-organized. I went to the R-S cabinet and quickly found the principal's folder. Upon first examination, it looked pretty normal. Turns out, the principal's grades during his time in spy school were dismal. Some of his professors' comments were even more derogatory than mine, which was really saying something. Under one particularly low-scoring assessment, his General Firearms 202 instructor had written "The entire firing range had to be cleared for his final exam. Sidebottom is so unlikely to hit his mark it would do him more good to aim away from the target in order to boost his chances."

Despite the tense nature of my situation, I had to suppress a laugh. 

The documents I sifted through were more of the same. A heavy sense of dread started welling up inside of me. Maybe I was just an idiot who had misinterpreted the note. I was starting to panic when I saw a slip of paper tucked neatly behind the last page of the folder. 

It was a receipt from a coffee shop, the Brown Bear Café. I had absolutely no idea where it was, but I didn't care. I was over the moon. A location was all I needed.

I triumphantly returned the folder, clicked off my flashlight, and skedaddled from the room. I felt a smile turning the corners of my lips as I moved through the dark hallway again. Then I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

A text from Zoe. Run. Then, a flashlight beam landed on my face. "Ripley!" a gravelly male voice barked from behind the light.

Whoever had caught me seemed just as surprised as me to see another person. I took advantage of his shock by throwing my own flashlight directly at his face. It wasn't very heavy, but it was made of metal and probably didn't feel very pleasant when colliding with one's skull.

The man groaned and clutched his head with both hands, dropping the light and casting me into darkness. I slipped around him and sprinted from the building. Stealth was out the window now. I needed to get away from him, and fast. I could already hear the sounds of him taking up the chase.

This was usually the part in my previous missions where Erica led me to safety, having whipped up a flawless escape plan in a mere fraction of a second. But Erica wasn't here.

I had been hunted by bad guys, good guys, and everything in-between too many times to count. I'll tell you right now, it doesn't get less scary. The air feels thinner, your skin feels colder and more exposed. Your breathing becomes more desperate. The blood pumping in your ears is almost louder than the sounds of your footsteps. In other words, it's terrifying.

But if there was one thing I had learned as a spy, it was that staying calm was the key to survival. So I counted my breaths, timing them perfectly with my footfalls. It was a trick I often used when I was nervous even before spy school. It brought me back from my initial panic at being caught.

I rounded a corner and saw two doors in front of me--the one on the left was the stairwell leading to the upper levels of the building. The one on the right led down, the way I needed to go. But my assailant didn't know that. I threw the left door wide open and then dropped to my stomach on the very side of the hallway in front of it.

The man wasn't very far behind me. He saw the door swinging closed and sprinted past me without a moment's hesitation, thinking that was the way I had gone. I waited for the door to close behind him, then I pushed myself to my feet and kept going.

 I started to organize my thoughts.

There were several facts at the forefront of my mind. I was nearing the exit of the Hale Building. The patroller chasing me had recognized me. It was only a matter of minutes before he raised the alarm. Administration would  immediately come to the conclusion I was working with Erica. Before that happened, I needed to warn my friends and escape the school. 

The makings of a plan started forming in my head. 

A/N: How are you guys doing? I know that the last year has been a bit insane for, well, the whole world really. Hope this story gives you a bit of a break from the boredom of quarantine. :)