"Bex," I said, turning to my best friend; but just then my words failed me as I heard screeching tires and saw headlights glowing. One of our vans drove fast in our direction then skidded to a stop. I breathed for the first time in what seemed like days, and relief washed over me. Help is here, I thought.
It was probably my mom.
Or Mr. Solomon.
But then the doors flew open. And I heard Macey yell, "Get in!"
"You stole a Gallagher Academy van," I said, kind of amazed.
Macey shrugged. "Commandeered, Cam," she said. "When I couldn't get into the mansion, and heard the Code Black sirens, I commandeered a van. And yes," she said, as if reading my mind, "that's something that troublemaking debutantes learn how to do before they go to spy school."
Our headlights cut through the black. Mist fell from the sky—a warm, damp reminder that we'd come a long way since winter.
As we drove through the darkness, I didn't feel the rush of adrenalin that usually comes with covert operations. Instead of excitement, I felt a creeping horror that there had been a double agent in our midst. So I didn't let myself think about the boy I'd almost allowed to kiss me; I didn't dare wonder if I'd ever let myself feel that way again.
I turned up the sound on the monitor on my wrist, listened as a soft beep, beep, beep filled the van, faster than before, and I knew we were getting close.
"Turn here," I instructed, and the highway disappeared. We crept over gravel and potholes. "Hit the lights," I said. The van inched along in the dark.
The beeping was faster now, steady. "This is it," said Bex.
The clouds parted; a sliver of moonlight fell onto an industrial complex. Massive metal buildings stood clumped together. Weeds battled with gravel and broken bits of asphalt for control of the ground.
"What is this place?" Macey asked.
"It's an abandoned manufacturing company," Liz explained. "But the school owns it now."
"It doesn't look like there's any security," Macey said.
And then every girl in the van said, "Look again."
Chain-link fence covered the perimeter. Probably a million dollars' worth of motion sensors lay imbedded in the ground. It was a fortress disguised as a ruin, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that whoever we were following had come here for a reason.
"So we find whoever's in there and get the disc back?" Macey asked as if she isn't technically an eighth grader and two years away from Sublevel One.
"Yeah." I said.
"So I guess it's just like…" Bex started, but trailed off. "Just like last fall?"
On an academic level she was right. It was like our fall final. This was the same training ground, and we were still students, but as Mick started handing out comms units and Napotine patches, I couldn't help missing Mr. Solomon and his cryptic pep talks, the clear-cut missions that outlined the difference between pass and fail.
I couldn't stop thinking that things weren't academic anymore.
Chapter Twenty-six
It's amazing how things come back to you—how instinct and training can take hold.
In an instant Bex was disabling the van's tiny dome lamp so there would be no telltale spark when we opened the doors. Mick disabled the wires that charged the perimeter fence, and one by one we slipped beneath it, retreating into the distant corners of the complex, fading with the shadows and darkness and things that go bump in the night.
When you're approaching a subject in the dark, the thing you have to worry about most isn't being seen—it's being heard. And unfortunately, Liz was feeling chatty.
"Cam, I'm sure Zach's got a really good explanation. I just know he's not a bad guy." That was a nice sentiment—a hopeful thought—and I might have enjoyed it if Liz's foot hadn't been inches away from a nearly invisible trip wire that shimmered in the moonlight.
"Liz!" I hissed and leaped forward, pulling her to safety. "Why don't you wait here?"
"But …" she said, stumbling, sounding only slightly offended "…Teamwork is key to covert operations."
"I know," I whispered as softly as possible. "But I need someone to stand here and watch this corner," I said, relieved to see a great hiding place behind an old barrel full of rain. "Can you do that?" I asked. "Can you stay right here and tell me if anyone comes this way?"