Spy School Revolution

Nighttime Activities

Washington Monument

National Mall

Washington, DC

0300 Hours

While we hustled through the secret tunnel, Erica asked "Who else is with my parents?" She didn't even look remotely tired, despite the late hour and the fact we had just sprinted down a staircase.

"I'm surprised you don't already know that," I replied flatly. Then I inwardly sighed, realizing how whiny I sounded. Before she could reply, I muttered "Mike and Zoe."

"Chip and Jawa are posted on a rooftop nearby to keep an eye on them," I continued.

"It won't be enough," Erica said. "These guys are exceptionally well-trained."

I was about to say something else, but Erica raised a finger to her lips, indicating we ought to be silent. She cocked her head, listening intently for any sounds above us. I did the same, but didn't hear anything. After a moment, she decided it was safe to go out.

When we emerged into the forest, I felt my guard go up. In a way, I had come to associate the secret tunnel and the monument with safety. Now that we were out of it, I felt exposed and more tense. There was something creepy about the way the wind rustled through the trees above us.

Luckily, we didn't run into any trouble. We stole through the shadows of the forest, Erica leading the way towards the nearest commercial street. 

As we stepped out onto the pavement, Erica determinedly set off down the road. My tired legs were screaming at the mere thought of running all the way back to the warehouse, but fortunately Erica had other plans. She headed directly to the nearest taxi parked on the side of the road. Given the late hour, you'd assume there wouldn't be many available cabs, but we were at the nation's capital. There were a surprising number of customers needing to get around in the middle of the night. 

Before she could open the car door, I caught Erica's arm. "We don't have any money," I reminded her.

"Speak for yourself," she replied, withdrawing a wallet from her utility belt. 

I glanced at it, knitting my brows. "That isn't yours..."

"No, it isn't," she said lightly. "But it does belong to somebody who blackmailed me into committing a terrorist attack, so I'd say we're even." Then, without warning, she reached a hand up and mussed my hair. Before I could even react, she pulled the door open and told the cab driver "Excuse me, sir? We need a ride."

The driver started--It seemed he had been partially asleep. He yawned, looked us over, and said "Awfully late for a couple of kids to be running around in the middle of the city."

Erica nodded, immediately shifting from her normal confidence to a frightened, quiet persona. "We just went for a walk and, well..." She linked her arm around mine and pulled me closer to her so the driver could see me more clearly. "...we got mugged. We managed to scare the guy off, but he hit my boyfriend in the face." She pointed to my black eye.

I allowed myself the briefest moment to be impressed by Erica's ability to improvise on the spot. Clearly, she had messed up my hair to make it look like I had been in a fight. 

Ignoring the heat rising to my face from the physical contact with her, I did my best to play along with her. I relaxed my arm, like she and I did this all the time, and said "Don't worry sir, I'm fine. But I really should get home to ice it."

"Goodness me," the driver replied. He was an old man, probably in his sixties, with a kindly twinkle in his eyes. "Well, hop on in! I always tell my grandkids there are some nasty folks out there. Sorry you ran into one of 'em."

And just like that, we were in a taxi headed to the warehouse.

We got out a block away from it in order to prevent suspicion on the part of CROATAN. We walked the rest of the way. As it came into view, it still looked completely average. Nothing was out of the ordinary. 

And yet, something still felt wrong.

I couldn't tell you how I knew. Maybe it was from experience; I had been in a lot of similar situations in the past couple of years. Maybe it was just instinct. But I could tell Erica could feel it too.

She pointed at the roof of building where Chip and Jawa were. Or at least, where they were supposed to be. There was absolutely no sign of them. 

Starting to get a sinking feeling in my chest, I followed Erica to the side door of the warehouse. This was the way Catherine had originally intended for us to get into the building. It seemed she had succeeded, as the door was unlocked.

Erica glanced over her shoulder. I nodded at her, my 'weapon' at the ready. It was just the grappling gun Catherine had given me earlier, but it was better than nothing. 

We slipped inside.

It was almost pitch-black inside. It took my eyes a second to adjust. When they did, I found myself in a large, open space. It almost felt like we were inside a gym, just the way sounds echoed all around us.

I was about to step forward to explore when Erica's arm shot out in front of me to make me stop. Then, fast as lightning, she turned on her flashlight and held up a gun, which had been holstered in her utility belt. "Hands up," she hissed.

Stood before us was one of the guys I had seen earlier, Sam. He was squinting in our direction, blinded by the powerful flashlight beam. Apparently deciding that we were a threat, he slowly raised his hands up.

Unfortunately, the light also illuminated the rest of the warehouse, which was completely and utterly empty.

Our friends were gone.

------------------

A/N:  We just hit 800 reads, which is absolutely amazing. Thank you all so much for reading!

If you enjoyed today's chapter, please leave a vote and share this with another Spy School fan! Have a great day!