Spy School Revolution

Hostile Communication

Streets in Proximity to Portmier Hotel

Washington, DC

0200 Hours

It took me a moment to register the fact that someone was actually on the other end of the phone. The whole situation seemed like some bizarre fever dream. Here I was, sitting in a dark car with six people, praying that someone would pick up the phone at two in the morning.

"Hi," I replied. It was the only thing I could think to say. My voice sounded different in the silent confines of the vehicle, almost like an echo.

For a second, the only thing I was aware of was the cool glass screen of my phone pressed against my ear. I felt strangely nervous. The line was eerily quiet, but I knew the call was still going.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

A pause. "Yes, I am." There was no mistaking the voice. It was Erica for sure. I felt a momentary burst of relief, even though for all I knew, she could've been lying about being okay. My eyes fell on Catherine and Alexander leaning towards me. The call wasn't on speaker, but it was quiet enough that they could hear their daughter.

"Are you alone?" she asked. No, I'm not. But for some reason, my instincts told me to lie. Before this, her tone had been completely flat, emotionless. It was almost nonexistent, and yet I thought I heard a lingering intensity to that particular question.

A warning.

"Yes, no one's here but me."

I was barely aware of the confused looks everyone was giving me. I started pinching the hem of my sleeve, my mind racing.

How did Erica want me to play this? She was obviously being closely watched by the enemy. She had wanted me to act like I was working alone. Like I was just a kid who didn't want to believe his friend had turned bad. Harmless. Certainly not a threat to anybody's plans.

So I loudly blurted "Did you really set off that bomb?"

My friends were giving me even more confused looks now. I saw Alexander trying to signal something with his hands, so I held up a finger to indicate I needed a minute.

Erica let an amused sigh. "Of course I did."

"But why--"

"Y'know, you're funny, Ripley," she said, her words dripping in condescension, like she was talking to a four-year-old. "The school told you the actual truth, and you still can't believe them."

I tried to make my voice tremble. "But...but they said you did it out of jealousy, since I was given the credit for taking down SPYDER--"

"Jealousy?" Her voice turned horrible; it was all just dark, bitter rage. "Of course they made it sound like it was some petty revenge for not getting a prize after we played spy," she practically spat. "Maybe you're just as blind as the CIA. I'm a hundred times the agent you are. I've saved your neck too many times to count, done more for this country than most of the CIA, and what did they give me for it?"

"Erica--"

"Nothing." I swallowed. Hearing Erica this way was truly frightening. She almost sounded like Joshua Hallal. "What did you do that was so special, Ben? You weren't even accepted into the academy because you were good enough!" She laughed humorlessly. "But who got all the credit? You did. A kid who got lucky half the time, and had my help the other half."

"That's not true." My voice sounded hollow, even to me.

"Face it, Ben. You were only a good spy because I was doing the real work. You're no better than my father." I felt my eyes widen as I glanced at Alexander. His face was ashen.

"This isn't you, Erica," I said quietly, but my voice broke a little as I said it. I felt my throat tightening up.

"It is." Her voice had lowered too. "Maybe you're still naive to think I ever cared about you, so here's a reality check. You should've believed Zoe, she was right. I've been manipulating you into getting me onto your missions. It wasn't even hard." Her voice started to rise in anger again. "If you were a half-decent spy, you would've known it at the very first place we ever talked!"

And then she hung up.

It's hard to describe how I was feeling at that moment. It was like that phone call had been anchoring me to Earth and now I was just drifting away into space, reaching for nothing. I let my hand drop from my ear, the phone screen still displaying the Call Disconnected graphic. I turned to my friends.

I was met with four matching expressions of pure disbelief. The Hales merely looked broken, they seemed unable to speak.

"Okay," Jawa said, breaking the silence. "That didn't go as planned."

"So what do we do?" Zoe asked quietly. She was looking at me with near pity.

"Go through with the plan?" Chip suggested, unsure.

I vaguely heard them talking more in the back of my mind. Something had occurred to me. I ignored the fear and hurt I was feeling and tried to concentrate. It was a long shot, but...

"I've got to go," I said, sitting up.

They all turned to me.

"Benjamin, I think--" Catherine started.

"If you were a half-decent spy, you would've known it at the very first place we ever talked," I repeated. "That's where she wants to meet with me."

Zoe blinked. "You're going back to the academy? You can't seriously think she--"

"No, no," I interrupted. "Not the first place we ever spoke. The first place we ever talked. As in, had a real conversation."

"I don't know, man," Mike said slowly. "You're reaching at this point."

All six of them now seemed to be concerned for my sanity. "Please trust me, guys. I know where she's going. You all should go through with the plan. I'll be okay." I slipped out of the car and started running, buoyed by a new burst of energy.

It was far in the distance, but I could almost already see the gleam of the Washington Monument on the horizon.

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A/N: Thanks for reading this part! This chapter was super fun to write, so I very much hope that it was fun to read, too. Tomorrow should be pretty interesting...stick around to see what happens. :)

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