Only the Good Spy Young(67)

He hoped out of the truck. "All clear on my end, Rachel. You're free."

"Thanks, Abe." She sounded relieved, and to tell you the truth, id didn't like it. Because for there to relief, there had to have been fear. And fear . . . well . . . I didn't want to think about that.

Liz poked me. "These are Bex's parents!"

I looked at my mother, who shrugged. "You didn't expect me not to recruit at least a little grown-up back up, did you?"

Macey stood on my other side and exclaimed, "We're going on a mission with Bex's parents!" as if wondering whether or not we were ready for Baxters to the power of three.

But my mother was shaking her head. "Actually, girls, for unsanctioned ops, it's best to minimize the exposure of official agents."

It's rule as old as espionage itself: Don't do yourself what you can get someone else to do for you. There are a million harmless reasons why a bunch of Gallagher Girls might break into Blackthorne (jokes, dares, pranks, etc.). For a bunch of grown-ups, not so much.

Bex knew all this - I know she did - and yet she was looking from my mother hers and then back again. "So why are you . . ." she started, then trailed off.

"They're not here to help us." My voice was flat against the wind. "They're here to guard me." A look passed across my roommates' faces as if no time at all had passed since November - as if we were still standing on a dark street in D.C.

"Do you have the journal?" Grace asked.

"No." Mom shook her head, then pointed to my roommates and me. "They beat me to it."

And that was when things got really weird.

I mean, my mom had broken into Sublevel Two!

My mom had been after my dad's journal.

My mom had been person hot on our heels, creeping through the darkness in the depths of our school, which meant, I guess, that Agent Townsend hadn't been.

I was still shaking my head, trying to wrap my mind around that - around everything -

when another car appeared on the highway, and Macey cried, "Abby?"

It almost sounded like a question, and with one glance at my aunt I saw why. Her glossy hair had lost its shine. And when she walked towards us, the bounce that I had come to know in her step was gone.

"Hey, Squirt," she said, but it sounded forced. "Playing hooky, I see."

I shrugged. "Maybe this is a CoveOps field exercise?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I know Agent Townsend, Cams."

"Oh," Bex said.

""Which is why I am more than willing to take part in this little extracurricular assignment." She looked at her sister. "Well . . . one of the reasons."

My mom turned to Mr. Baxter. "What are our friends at Six saying, Abe?"

"Same story, different accent. No one has a bloody clue where they've taken him. No one seems to bloody care."

"I care."

Zach stood on the side of the dusty road, hands in his pockets. When Mrs. Baxter saw him, she smiled a little too wide.

"Hello, Zachary," she said. "It's very nice to meet you. Rachel has told us . . . It's very nice to meet you."

Zach mumbled something that sounded like "You too." ( I guess Blackthorne doesn't have a Madame Dabney.)

And then the time for pleasantries must have been over because Mrs. Baxter turned to my mom. "Ready?"