Page 17 of The Eagle (Spy Girl 2)
The kitchen is empty.
And all of a sudden, I don't feel alone, even though the place seems to be deserted.
I move quickly and silently through the kitchen then to the front entry, past the Dean's empty office, and up the grand staircase. I slide my sleeve down the thick, polished chair rail like I always used to and make my way to my dorm room.
Everything is gone.
I don't understand how this is possible. Where did everyone go? Where is all my stuff?
I stand in front of my window that looks out over the treed property feeling sad. It's like going back home to find your parents moved out and left you.
Most everything of importance I had was in the backpack I always carried with me. It was something my mom taught me--If you have to leave on a moment's notice, always have a bag packed and ready to go.
But I kept a journal under my mattress. I had some books and a few trinkets. What I don't have is the key to my parents' safety deposit box.
I guess it's time to find out just how thorough they were.
I step into my closet, stretch up high, and run my fingers across the top of the door jamb until they connect with a metal object--my key.
Feeling relieved, I slip the key into my pocket and decide there's really no reason for me to stay here any longer. I take one last look out the window and am turning around when I hear a creak from the hallway.
I quickly assess my options. I'm on the second story with a bank of three windows offering an exit onto the porch roof. It wouldn't be the first time I'd gone out that way. I could risk going into the hall, but that would be bad from a tactical standpoint. Anyone out there could pick me off the second I peeked through the door. The closet would offer cover, but I would be trapped--which is never good.
I consider opening the window, but know that can't be done quietly. When I hear another creak, this time closer, I move into the closet and flatten myself against the wall. At least if someone steps inside, I will have a brief moment of surprise. There's a good chance whoever is out there doesn't know which room I am in.
A few more creaks tell me a person has entered the room. The shadow of a hooded figure carrying a gun moves across the wall.
When the figure steps into the closet, I attack, grabbing their gun arm and rotating it in a circle, stopping just short of breaking it when the gun falls from their hand. I quickly follow that with a palm to the chin. The assailant lunges forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and pushing me into the closet wall with a thud.
I head butt him, smashing into his nose. His hands react naturally, flying toward his face as I dive for the gun.
I grab it then tuck and roll, spinning so that I'm in a shooting position in one fluid movement.
Then I take aim.
"Jeez, X, you about broke my nose," the hooded man says in a voice I recognize.
"Josh?! What are you doing? Why did you just attack me?"
"Because I don't know whose side you're on."
"What are you talking about?"
He pulls his hoodie sleeve down and uses it to stop the bleeding.
"Tell me why you left school when you did!"
"Why does that matter?"
"It does, okay?! Answer the freaking question!"
"I was sent on a mission."
"Why are you here now?"
"Because today is graduation day. Where is everyone?"
"They changed graduation to yesterday," he says, looking visibly shaken.
"Josh, what's wrong?"
He takes a deep breath and lowers his hands away from his face. "This year's graduation included a reunion of all former students and faculty."
"I bet that was fun, seeing everyone."
"It wasn't fun, X. They're all dead. Everyone. Gunmen came in. They had assault rifles."
"What about M?"
"She was giving a speech and was one of the first killed."
"Oh my god. And the Dean?"
"He wasn't in attendance. Professor Gunner was doing the ceremony. What you aren't understanding is that I got away. I'm the only one who got away. Thirty-three dead and there's nothing about it on the news. Don't you find that a bit odd? Where are their families?"
"Where is your family?"
"Dead," he says. "Probably true of all the students, now that I think about it. It's obvious that we were all disposable, but why would someone take the time and effort to train us, only to kill everyone?"
"They wouldn't do that, Josh. It doesn't make sense. You're not making sense."
"That's why I fell for you. Even though you are serious, smart, and have a tough veneer, there's an underlying vulnerability to you."
"No, there's not."
He reaches his hand out to help me up. I accept his hand but still keep my revolver trained on him.
"Yeah, there is," he says. "When you get tired, it shows in your eyes. And when you sleep, you have bad dreams. X, I need to know. Was what we had real, or did you sleep with me because you thought I was your best shot of getting the flag?"
"We didn't even know there was going to be a mission enactment."
"We knew one was coming."
"What does any of that have to do with what happened?"
"I hid in the woods until nightfall hoping the authorities would come. But then I was afraid if they did and found me, they might think I did it. So I left and spent most of the night in a truck stop. It was there that I saw a photo of you on the cover of a tabloid. I was shocked. All your covert training and you're on the cover of a magazine? It didn't make sense, so I did a little more digging. I learned that apparently you're the long lost daughter of a reclusive billionaire. That you were recently in Montrovia and caught the attention of their Prince. Then I read about your kidnapping and how you were saved by a British Intelligence agent. I suspect that's all propaganda. You left school and were sent on a mission to protect the Prince, right?" He doesn't give me a chance to reply; he keeps speaking. "We were all trained to move in the circles of the rich and powerful, but not out in the open. Not like you are. Why train you to be covert only to blow your cover immediately? But then I saw that you were in Washington for the State Funeral, and that's when it clicked."
"What clicked?"
"Were you sent to Montrovia to protect the Prince?"
"You know we're not supposed to talk about our missions."
"Are you still on a mission?"
"Yes, kind of."
"And you will continue to pretend to be this Huntley Von whatever?"
"Yes."
"That's why everyone is dead."
"How could that have anything to do with it?"
"Do you remember E? He was a former graduate who came back to train us on team tactics."
"Of course, I remember him. He was my--first."
"Like sexually?"
"Even though you and I were in the same class, I'd been at Blackwood since I was twelve."
"How could that be? The minimum age is eighteen."
"Josh, how did you end up at Blackwood?" I think about what Terrance suggested. Tha
t the school had been created for me. I thought it ludicrous at the time, but now I'm starting to wonder.
"I got in trouble."
"Doing what?"
"What didn't I do would be the better question, but mostly I did extreme stunts that weren't always exactly legal. Did you not research me when I told you my real name? That's the reason I told you. I thought my stunt videos would impress you. Anyway, I was doing all these videos, and the response was overwhelming, so I started doing bigger and crazier stunts. What started out as skateboarding jumps off roofs turned into base-jumping off a skyscraper. The last one, I free climbed a construction crane that was forty-four stories tall and hung off of it."
"That sounds equally amazing and stupid."
"I'm doing all this stuff without getting caught, loving the thrill and adrenaline rush. So, of course, I suggested that our senior class do an epic prank."
"What did you do?"
"Honestly, it was stupid, but it was funny. We broke into the school and stole the principal's desk, which we then managed to hoist on top of school's roof. Then we put mannequins dressed like the school principal and secretary doing it over the desk. It was hilarious. Unfortunately, not everyone thought so. I got kicked out of school right before graduation. The school pressed charges, and I was found guilty--not too tough when the video of it had gone viral. A guy came to our house before I was supposed to go to prison. He offered to have my record erased if I'd go to Blackwood. I said no. He left his card. A few days later, my family--Mom, Dad, and my little sister--were killed in an auto accident. It's said my father was driving while drunk and drove straight off a cliff. Which was odd considering my father never drank. But maybe when your only son is going to prison, you make an exception."
"You told me you were recruited because of your test scores--that they were nearly perfect."
"They were. I just omitted the other part."
"Why?"
"I had a crush on you since we first met, but you weren't interested in me until this year."
"I thought you were immature."
"I probably was. Tell me about E."
"There isn't much to tell. It was my fifteenth birthday. I was in the school's kitchen, a cupcake in hand, ready to make my wish, when he walked in looking for a snack. What happened next was sort of a blur. I blew out the candle. Then we kissed."
"And he took your virginity? That night?"
