Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hey! If you haven't read my other book yet, Up to No Goode I recommend doing so! It's the first book in the Zach's POV series and talks about all of his time in CMH.

(here: https://archiveofourown.to/works/25115776/chapters/60848413)

And if you haven't read the Gallagher girls recently I recommend doing that too. (And if you don't have the books I totally don't have online pdf versions you can message me and I'll send you the link for them. Cough)

Anyways, this book is leaving a lot to my imagination and I really hope that it tops my last book. I don't know if I'll be able to finish it in a week, but I can sure as hell try.

I post everyday, and I love interacting with you guys in the comments so don't be afraid just to drop by and say hi. It gives me motivation to write LMAO.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy Zach's version of DJGC! I know I'm going to enjoy writing it.

-Cloe Talplacido

Chapter Text

The second I left the Gallagher Academy I felt... free. Sure, I dropped out of high school, I had no place to go, and I knee that the circle was probably looking for me, but I had a kiss lingering on my lips and a new purpose filled my being. I'd do whatever it took to protect Cammie and bring down the circle.

Before I left, Joe came to see me. He must have somehow sensed that I was going because there was a finality about the moment.

"Zach"he said, rushing towards me "Come with me" he glanced at Dr. Steve "He'll only be a moment" I followed Joe Solomon to where we did our P&E classes. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm proud of you, and that I'll support you in any decision you feel you have to make."

I felt a lump rise in my throat. "Joe I-" but I'm cut off when he hugs me.

"I just want you to know that I look at you as if you were my own son. Be careful out there." 

I nod. Not trusting myself to speak. When we finally break apart he hands me a bag. "Good luck kid." He says as he leaves me to compose myself in the dusty barn. I walk toward the vans that were to take us to the private airfield, just outside the Gallagher academy and I take my seat next to Grant and Jonas. 

"Guys," I whisper and they both look at me. I look out the window toward the mansion and they both nod. I'm telling them in the only way I can that I'm not coming back to Blackthorne. Instead, I'll be hunting down the Circle of Cavan.

Once we get to the airfield, Dr. Steve counts us. 

"Fourteen... Fifteen." he says back to the rigid drill instructor he was before the Gallagher Acadmey. It was almost like the past five months hadn't happened. "okay you scum, back to Blackthorne for you. Not rich private school boys anymore are you? You're just the kids that society dejected. Get in the plane, and for the love of God, don't touch anything." 

We make out way into the plane and prepare to take off. Grant and Jonas stare at me.

"Zach..." says Jonas, but I hold out my hand to silence him. 

As soon as the plane takes off, I collect my belongings and edge very carefully to the back of the plane. I place the bag Joe gave me strapped to me inside my shirt. Whatever's in it, must be important.

"Zach what in the hell do you think you're doing?" spits Dr. Steve

I look at him one last time as I open the door to the plane, taking in everything from his polished shoes to the finger marks around his neck where Bex choked him the night before.

"Leaving" I say with a shrug. Then, I jump.

Chapter Text

Dear Cammie,

I don't know if or when I'm ever going to see you again, or what type of people will we be if we do. There's a lot of things I never got around to telling you, partly because I was afraid and partly because I didn't want you to see me differently. If you get these letters, I'm probably dead. But I doubt it. The circle of cavan wouldn't lay a finger on me. Why? Well... because I'm one of them. It's in my blood Cammie. It's all I knew.

That is, until I met you. 

I don't know what sort of path I would have taken if I didn't go to the Gallagher Academy. Something I couldn't bring myself to tell you when we went to school together was that Blackthorne isn't a school for spies. No. Spies save lives; we just take them.

But Joe told me that I didn't have to be what I was born into. So, I'm righting my wrongs and fighting for what I think is right and whats always felt right to me is you.

I'm going to take down the circle even if it kills me.

-z

I signed the letter with a final flourish as the bus pulls in to the terminal. I stuff it into my notebook, gather my stuff, and head onto the bright red bus. I pick a seat near the back next to an exit, just in case. I was on the run from the CIA, from the Circle of Cavan, and from the Blackthorne institute for boys (a feeder school for both groups.).

The bus is fairly empty on the bright and sunny Saturday afternoon, so I take the time to survey the contents of the bag Joe had given me that morning. There it was, 5,000$ in cash, the same fake ID we used that night at the ball, a credit card, a few burner phones, and a slip of evapopaper bearing the addresses of several safe houses and a dead drop location. I memorize all of the information quickly and carefully then I drop the sliver of paper onto my tongue feeling in dissipate as  a bitter taste filled my mouth.

I said a silent thank you to Joe as I looked at the window, the bus chugging along at 40 miles across the state of Virginia. I didn't dare sleep, not here, not now. I stayed on the bus until the last stop, then I ducked out the back way. As the cool night air engulfed me I couldn't help but wish I was with someone else.

I wandered aimlessly around a neighborhood until I was so tired I could hardly stand, but I still had no place to sleep. My eyes fell upon a park bench, but just as I was about to lie down I spot something peeking behind one of the houses.

In a giant oak tree laid a perfect little hideout. A tree house. I hopped the fence into the backyard of my unsuspecting host and slowly crept my way up the steps. 

Inside was a small cot and stacks and stacks of old books and toys. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs covered everything in the room, and I knew this place hadn't been touched in years.

After cleaning up a bit of the dust, I gratefully dove into the cot and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

When I wake up, I know I'm in trouble. I was asleep for too long. My internal clock is telling me it's almost noon. I hear a chatter of voices below me, and very slowly I peek out of the tree house.

They're having a barbecue.

Chapter Text

I'm trapped in a treehouse. 

I flatten myself against the wall hoping I wouldn't be seen. 

Of course there would be a barbecue today. It's memorial day weekend. How could you be so stupid?

My first day on the run and the bloody police would be here in two seconds flat if they knew I was up here. 

Think Zach, think.

I looked all around me at the walls of the tree house. There were two small windows, a wraparound porch, and a ladder that led the way down. Behind me was the street, full of traffic from those trying to get to the various parties that were happening all around the block.

Then things got worse.

"Mommy I wanna play in the tree house!" yelled a kid covered in Popsicle. His hair was matted and he had grubby fingers. She nodded at him, and he started running towards the tree house.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit-

"Tommy you can't play up there, its dirty." Said the man who was barbecuing. I started to breath a sigh of relief when he added. "I'll go up there in a sec and dust for spiders, let me just finish up these two burgers."

I had less than five minutes to escape before the man came up and blew my cover. I searched all around me for something that I could use to get down without being seen but it was all in vain. I needed to cause a distraction, but how?

I looked through all of the bags, searching for something, anything to help me escape. And that's when I saw the napotine patches safely stowed away in between my clothes. 

Carefully, I made my way to the trapdoor. I'd have to time it just right.

I stayed still and low, crouching down waiting for the man to stick his head through.

My heart's beating fast now, and my breathing is shallow. I hear the man climbing up the ladder, one hand after the other. He pushes the trapdoor open and looks around. Right at me.  He opens his mouth to scream but I clamp it shut with my hand and stick the patch to the back of his neck. Then, I push him down.

He falls to the ground with a sickening crack and the yard below goes silent. He'll be out cold for at least an hour. As all the guests surround him, I make my way out of the other window. 

I shimmy myself on to an outstretched limb and I crawl down into the street below.

I was safe.

I hear the whines of a distant ambulance and I head in the opposite direction. The "for now" echoing in my mind as I made way way past the busy street and into a diner where I sat, surveying the people from a back corner. 

"What can I get for you?" asks a pretty waitress in a red dress with dirty blonde hair. For a second I think it's Cammie.

I wanted her to be Cammie. 

But she wasn't.

"Sir?" she says and I give myself a little shake. She laughs. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Sorry" I mumbled "you just remind me of someone. I'll have a cup of coffee and a waffle." I told her. She scribbles it down on her pad and darts back off into the kitchen.

I start drafting another letter to Cammie. 

"Dear Cammie,

I feel like I'm seeing you everywhere. At least, I want to. I thought I saw you today in a diner. There was a waitress in a red dress with dirty blonde hair, but she wasn't anywhere as near as beautiful as you are. 

I pushed a man off a ledge today Cammie. I had no choice, I had to escape. But I felt awful about it. The sound his body made falling against the hard-packed dirt.  But we've fallen harder haven't we Cammie?

-z

The waitress comes back bearing a giant waffle and a large coffee and... two milkshakes?

"I'm on my break. Mind if I sit here? I brought you a milkshake. I hope you like chocolate." she says and I nod my consent. She takes a seat across from me and bats her eyelashes. "What's a guy as handsome as you doing here alone?" she says and I feel sick. This is wrong. She's not Cammie. But in that moment I couldn't help myself.

"I'm not alone." I say gesturing to her. I hold a knife in my shaking hand and I start cutting a piece off of my waffles. But every bite is like glue in my mouth. 

"So," she says " are you in school here or...?"

"No." I say trying to think up a good cover. "I'm homeschooled." 

Her eyebrows lift up in surprise. "Oh how come?"

"For religious reasons." I say, thinking back to Cammie's CoveOps report. I eat another bite of waffle and sip my coffee. "What about you? What school do you go to?" 

"Oh I go to Charlottesville high." she said. "So do you have a girlfriend?" 

I stood there, my face reddening. At that moment, I didn't know where Cammie and I stood on the whole relationship scale, but we weren't nothing.

I hoped.

"No I don't." I say finally "My church doesn't allow you to date until you're eighteen" 

She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Well I peg you as a rule breaker then... or at least, I hope you are."

I shook my head slowly at her. "Sorry but my parents would kill me."

She looked at me with... disappointment in her eyes. "It's a pity" she said finally "I'd really like to get to know a guy like you."

I smile at her. "I've got to get home to my parents" I say

She nods her head and I go to pay the bill. She takes my money silently and leaves. I get up and gather my things and walk away.

Chapter Text

As soon as I leave the diner, I don't hesitate.

I head straight to the train station. I'd had enough of this town with it's crazy look-alike people and suburban surprises. I ride the train all day, following rolling hills and amber waves of grain. 

Sometimes I walked the length of the train, feeling the wind rush through my hair as I move through compartments. I surveyed the ever-changing people, keeping careful tabs on who might be looking for me. But no one ever came for a 16-year-old boy. Even if the boy was all alone. Even if that teenage boy went to a school for spies.

Even if that teenage boy had the circle's blood in him.

I chanted the mantra I've had stuck in my head over the course of three days: I'm not my mother, I'm not my mother, I'm not my mother.

And sometimes, it was comforting. I'd think of the days at Gallagher, traipsing through the grounds, the ball, the way the sun hit my face when I sat on the gazebo and I'd smile at the memories.

But remembering my mother had other problems.

I saw her in my dreams. Her cold, dead eyes staring at the people she wanted information from holding a knife in a high arch above her head. I saw her drag the knife repeatedly through the agents arm.

One.

Two.

Three.

And the agent would scream. They'd yell and beg and plead and sometimes they would talk. But the strong ones wouldn't give her the information she wanted. 

So they'd die.

I'd seen it time and time again. My stomach lurched at the thought of what could have happened to Cammie that night if I they had gone through with their extraction plans at the ball. But the circle wouldn't stop that easy. The circle didn't know when or where to pull the breaks. They'd do anything, tear down anyone who stood in their way.

I thought back to the man who almost made me while I was up in that tree. I was trespassing, but yet, I didn't hesitate to send him falling towards the ground. I wondered where I'd draw the line. A bullet through the arm? A knife in someones back? Would my next push be off a skyscraper?

We learn these things, at Blackthorne. Push and run. Shoot and hide. Murder and escape. But what they don't tell you is that the hard thing isn't running from the police. It's running from ourselves.

The first year at Blackthorne, half the boys go crazy. You see too much. You do too much. But then you get used to it. You get numb. You watch videos on torture as if they were movies, you wield a knife without a second thought. 

But there are somethings you can't get used to.

There are times I question my sanity, and being all alone on that train with my thoughts made it worse. I had no one to tease, no cocky mask to hide behind.

In short, I was alone.

I went back to my compartment, closed the blinds, and I fell asleep. 

When I woke up I got off the train. We were stationed in Philidelphia and the hot summer sun was beating down on me and I squinted my eyes to survey the people surrounding the crowded train station. I think back to all of the CoveOps exercises I did with Joe. 

His voice comes back to me. What do you see?

Instincts are the only weapon you get to take out with you to the field. So I didn't hesitate when my gut told me that I should turn around.

"Zach?" said a womans voice.

Chapter Text

Authors note: I knew that I wanted to add a chapter kind of... romanticizing Catherine I guess. This chapters a bit darker but I wanted Zach to understand how she got that way, and how that's still apart of him. Zach's role in this book isn't merely to protect Cammie. He struggles with his identity a lot and I wanted to channel that in this chapter. 

I think this might be the best chapter I've ever written, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, I'm a music composition major (or at least I will be once I graduate high school...hopefully. But I do write my own compositions so if you want me to make music around the lullaby that Zach's mom sings... just ask.)

I stood face to face with the woman in front of me, our dark eyes identical. And at that moment I wasn't an assassin or spy. I wasn't afraid or vengeful of the lady who stood before me. I was simply a boy. 

A boy who missed his mother.

She made her way cautiously towards me and reached out a hand to caress my face. She grazed by bruise lovingly, but her fingers were like ice against my skin. I recoiled her touch, and she jerked her hand away from me as if she felt an electric shock. Her hands fell at her sides, uncertain.

"Mom" I say, for the first time in four years. She looks at me, tears welling in her eyes. She holds her arms out to me and I hesitate only a moment before I fall into them.

"I've missed you Zachary." she whispers, tears flowing down her face.

"I've missed you too." I say, my voice cracking.

We made our way towards her safe house, her arm looped in mine as if she was afraid to let me go, as if I were going to run again. But I couldn't have ran if I tried. We drove in a comfortable silence, and I could almost forget about how she's a killer.

And part of me wants to.

But the other part of of me is telling me to run. 

My mother starts humming, a familiar lulluby. I feel myself being soothed by the quiet cadence of her voice,

She started to sing the words I've had engrained into my mind since I was a small child.

"Above the plains up on the hill there stood a castle bold

A gleaming palace made of white, a pillar to behold

The horsemen lived in service to the castle and the crown

But the knights rose up and killed the kings

And it all burned down.”

And the whole drive over there she sings this song over and over again, as if she can't bear to stop.

We make it to the safe house,  a rickety shack in the middle of a quiet field. Here the air is thick with silence. All you can hear is the rhythmical crunch of the dead grass under our feet and a faint sound of crickets chirping in the distance. My mother hums softly to herself, the same song she'd been singing for hours on end.

The inside the house is just as dismal as the outside. The lamps were lit by kerosene, the kitchen had a Franklin stove, the furniture was old and worn and covered with a thick layer of dust. 

My mom tells me to sit back and relax, she'll take care of everything. But in that small one room shack I can hear the echo of her voice all around me, singing that song. 

And the music doesn't stop. 

She makes us these greasy hamburgers that I can barely choke down, she holds my hands as she asks me about my time away from her, and while I answer she hums, and I feel myself slowly reverting back to who I was before the Gallagher Academy. I feel myself go blind with rage at the injustice of our world, the corruptness of our government. I find myself questioning everything I've learned in the past four years, the cause I was fighting for.

I find myself looking at love as a weakness, a distraction.

And in that moment I realized how my mother got the way she was. It was because she was alone. I could see it in myself, the way she'd begun to feel powerless. The cold seeping feeling that sneaks up on you, numbing you.

The tears start rolling down my face as my mother sings me to sleep.

Chapter Text

When I woke up my mother was no longer at my side. I could hear in the kitchen, humming to herself, the same song she'd been singing since yesterday. It was a slow, patronizing descent into madness, but I didn't notice. I might have welcomed it.

Maybe I was already crazy.

Maybe I really was my mother's son, full of hate and greed. The need to be in power, to have control. I heard Joe's voice in my head telling me I was not my mother but I waved the thought away. Of course I was my mothers son, I saw the truth in her cold piercing glare, and I knew her and I were exactly the same.

And I hated her for it.

Yet at the same time I felt... drawn to her somehow. As if she was really just a normal mother, and I was a normal son. I was drawn to her lust for power and money, and I was drawn to her need for vengeance. Hadn't I felt that anger? 

I wanted to believe I knew what I was doing.

I wanted to believe that my mother was a good person

But most of all I wanted to believe that despite everything that happened my mother loved me.

I tried to ignore the facts I already knew, but they raced through my mind like a silver bullet on the cold, empty streets of Rome.

• My mother lies
• My mother can't be trusted
• she kills people

And I wanted to ignore this because... it meant I was just like her. I was all of those things I despised in mother. 

"Zach?" She called out coming into the small bedroom. She smiled at me, but it was cold smile, not quite reaching her eyes. She comes up to me and hugs me but I go stiff in her arms. She looks at me quizzically but I push her away.

"Zach. What's the matter?" she says, but instead of the warm, tender tone of a mother she has venom behind her voice.

I look at her, suddenly afraid. The memories I've worked so hard to forget are surfacing themselves.  "Mom" I say "Do you remember the last time we saw each other?"

I held her gaze. "Rome" she whispers, smiling at me. "You were so young, yet you did your duty." she stares off into space, thinking on some distant memory. "There's never been a day where I didn't think you were one of us. I'm so proud of you Zach."

I look away. "I killed a man." I say, barely controlling myself. "I killed a man and I didn't even know his name."

I killed the girl I love's father.

"Zach, now really," she said with a shake of her head "Killing... it's in your blood. It's who you are as a person. And there's nothing you can do to change that. Why change your destiny?" Her eyes are shining in the dim light. She speaks with such conviction that I don't doubt her for a second, but I get a strange feeling in my gut. "Come on." she says "We're leaving."

"Where are we going?" I asked

"Your first circle meeting."

Chapter Text

authors note: I used a lot of symbolism in these past few chapters. Someone write an essay or something..

And if anyone wants to Hmu to talk about the Gallagher Girls please do! (I'm lonely)

Number of hours in the car: 6

Words exchanged: 12

Times operative wished he was somewhere else: 52

Times operative wished he was with someone else: 436

Questions operative wanted to ask: 37

Times we stopped: 2

Times operatives mother sang the song: Too many to count

We drove in silence... if silence could be counted as a broken record spinning out of control. That song... it made me mad, but it also made me stay stagnant until my rage was pent up and brewing inside of me just waiting to get out. I felt like I was about to explode. I wanted to break something, hurt someone.

We get to this dark side street and my mom parks the car. "Stay by me Zach." she says and I don't argue. 

She knocks on the door and armed guards come out, but they take one look at my mother and get out of her way.

As much as I hated to admit it, I liked this. I liked the look of respect we got when we walked into the the room, the way the people greeted my mother. The way they seemed to respect her opinion, report to her every whim. I find myself being seduced by the power I saw. The confidence I gained back at the Gallagher Academy came back to me and I found myself walking with a... bounce in my step. 

I looked at the faces that surrounded me and I saw myself in them. We had the same anger in our eyes, the same clench of our teeth. It reminded me a little of Blackthorne and it felt... comforting. My mom made her way to a soft leather couch and sat down, patting the floor below her. I sat down and listened to the adults talk as my mother pet my head like a lapdog.

I never offered my two-sense into the the conversation; it was clear to me that I was regarded merely as a guest in order to appease my mother's ever overbearing presence.

My mom gave a cold stare grazing over every person in turn. None of them could meet her eyes and I noticed something in them that was also familiar to Blackthorne: Fear. They hunched their shoulders, refused eye contact, stuttered over their words when addressed. Even though several of them could probably take on my mother without negative result, they sat, paralyzed by the fear that ruled them. 

I watched this all with utter fascination until something else caught my attention. My mother cleared her throat. 

When my mother spoke, she spoke with conviction so that there was no room to argue, and most were too scared to anyway. I found myself lulled into a trance by the ferocity of her words, the adamance of her statements. 

"The Circle of Cavan has a long and proud history of dispersing governmental power through offensive means and handing it over to the people in which they govern. And today we are to continue this tradition within the circle by  waging attack on the main leaders. " She looked around the room. "Of course, we know naught who they are. The circle is very secretive and our leaders are one of our closely guarded secrets. However," She arched an eyebrow, pulling out a bundle of papers from a little folder that sat on the table. Papers I recognized. "We have recovered this from the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, thanks to my darling son who sits before me. And we will use this to take down the main leadership and assume their positions at the top." She flipped to a dog-eared page. "She was present at a dead-drop carried out by agent Matthew Morgan, whose capture can also be credited to my son."

I. Can't. Breathe.

But I'm a trained operative. I sat there, seemingly nonplussed as my mind raced faster and faster trying to find a way out. But it's futile. I'm stuck.

"And my sources tell me she is to be present in Boston during the Winters-McHenry rally. We're going to go in and extract her."

It occurred to me that my mom didn't know much about Cammie and me. 

But to be fair, neither did I.

Dr. Steve evidently didn't care to explain to my mother about about my semester at Gallagher. Or maybe he didn't know.

Or maybe there was nothing to know.

I found myself questioning everything I stood for at the moment.

Did I really want to risk my life for a girl who might resent me in the future? For love that I may or may not feel for her in the future and vice versa? Did I really want to lose my mom again? How far was I willing to go to protect her?

I sighed when I realized the answer.

I'd do anything for Cammie.

Chapter Text

I didn't remove myself from my mother's clutches that day, nor the next. It took me three weeks of careful planning to escape. We wandered from safe house to safe house, my mom bringing me on short missions to scope out the area in which Cammie was to be kidnapped. I took careful measure of it all.

I didn't dare report back to Joe with my findings, although I should have. I didn't want to see the look of disappointment on his face. Or, even worse, I didn't want him to tell me I was good enough, because I wasn't. I didn't want him to say he knew I'd see the light on my own, because I didn't.

It was all Cammie.

If I was questioning my sanity before, I welcomed my insanity with open arms. I saw her everywhere. She was a constant figure of my imagination. She was relentless and she brought me back from the dark. She would talk to me while I was on those missions with my mom, asking me what I saw, what I heard. She'd be with me while I was running drills at dawn telling me to do better, run faster. She was in my dreams, dancing in a strapless red gown, sitting on the gazebo steps that sunny day in Roseville, sitting with me in the dark of a secret passageway.

And she was in my nightmares. Memories that I had suppressed for so long resurfaced themselves in an incarnation reminiscent of the girl I loved so incessantly. I woke up in cold sweats, my fists clenched, my body shaking from bearing witness to the agonized screams from a past I didn't know I had forgotten.

My mother was slowly disintegrating as well, but it had been that way for years, I just noticed it now more prominently than ever before. The song she sang for hours on end echoed through the walls of each dwelling we resided in for the night. It infiltrated my dreams becoming a soundtrack to everything I loved and everything I didn't. It muddled my thoughts into incoherence. Except for one. 

Cammie.

She was the only thing I was sure about in those cold, empty houses. Those dark nights by myself when I was alone with my thoughts.

Finally the night had come where I was to release myself from this prison. 

My mom kept a gun in the safe in her car, but I promised myself I'd never use it. But that night seemed like a exception. I strapped a knife to my leg, and walked over to my mother, who was sitting in a corner rocking herself to the beat of the lullaby. I told her I had left my jacket in the car and I wished to get it. Her eyes stared back at me, empty and blank. She slowly nodded her consent.

I grabbed the car keys and headed out to the back of the car where I unlocked her safe. 2-5-3-7. I grabbed the gun and walked over to the bags I had dropped out of the only window in that nights house. 

"Zach?" called a voice "Zach where are you?" my mother cried, hysterical. I stayed hidden behind the house as I watched my mom break into tears, clutching herself on the dirty ground. Maybe if I hadn't been so distracted by this I would have heard the footsteps behind me. Or maybe I would have felt the breathing down my neck sooner.

My attacker grabbed me from behind, but I threw myself back and then forwards again flipping him over my back as he landed on the ground with a thud. But this commotion awakened my mom from her sorrows, and she was not alone. Two more men were coming towards me. I landed a kick against one's shin an he doubled over in agony on the ground. My fist met the second guys face but he grabbed my arm. I threw myself on top of him, clawing at his face. I punched him, breaking his nose and knocking him out cold. I reached for a napotine patch but my mother came up to me.

"Now Zach," she said "You're not going to hit your mom are you?" I held up the the gun to her face a small .32 pistol, and in that moment I wanted to kill her. But she merely stared at me. "You're not going to shoot me Zach. You don't have it in you."

"You don't know that." I said "Because, trust me. I want to kill you."

"And why would you want that?" she asked "Is it because of your little girlfriend back at Gallagher?"

I opened my eyes in shock. "You knew about..."

"Of course I knew." She said, shaking her head in disgust. "You couldn't have picked a plainer girl. You're a Goode. You are a member of the Circle. Trust me when I say that you could have had any girl you wanted."

I looked at her and dropped the pistol. She was right. I couldn't kill her.

"There's a good boy" she said. "Come and give mommy a hug."

I slowly walked towards her and put my arms around her.

And then she collapsed.

It'd be hard standing while you had a napotine patch on the back of your neck.

I gathered my stuff, throwing the gun and the car keys into the river.

"Goodbye mother." I whispered

Chapter Text

There comes a time in every spy's life where, I'm sure, they get tired of running. I had been on the run for about a month. July was hot and sweaty and I welcomed it like an old friend. At Blackthorne there was no "Summer Vacation." We didn't swim in pools or have barbecues. Instead, we trained.

And that's what I did. I got up at dawn and ran my five miles through the dark, preparing myself for what was to happen in August. I didn't know the exact plans. I didn't know the exact time. But wherever it was, whenever it was, I'd be ready. 

Something that most people don't realize about espionage is that it's a lot of waiting. And that's what I did. Everywhere I went I was careful, always looking behind my shoulder, checking my surroundings for suspicious activity. 

Until... I wasn't.

I was walking along a narrow sidewalk near random alleyways around mid-July. The sun beat down on me like an oven and I was looking for a place to stay the night when I heard screaming. It was another teen, my age, yelling bloody murder and I ran towards her insticively. A man was holding a gun to her head while another was throwing her cellphone out of her purse, trying to get her into a car. She was clawing her way, but the men overpowered her. She obviously had never had any training to deal with that sort of thing, so I jumped in. 

"Leave her alone" I said calmly and surely. These guys were large and built, but as they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Besides, they weren't deliberate in their plan and had obviously done this on a whim so I felt pretty confident that I would be able to take them.

"Oh yeah?" scoffed the bigger one, looking around "you and what army?"

"He doesn't need an army" Said a voice behind me. "But he has the rest of us, anyhow."

It was a gang of teenagers, bruised and ugly, but obviously tough. There were about ten of them and they held bikes and skateboards in their hands. 

"Let her go" Said another boy. "Or else you'll find out what happens to guys like you in prison."

The two men looked at each other and laughed. Big-ugly held up his gun "This is my gun. He would very much like to hurt each and every one of you-" But he didn't finish because I ran up to him and pushed his hand up, making him fire the shot into the air. I punched him in the face and smacked the gun out of his hands into the street to where one of the other boys retrieved it. 

The two kidnappers looked at each other nervously and dropped the girl onto the floor. One of the other teens took a picture of the license plate, and two of the boys went to help the girl up. The leader of the boys turned to me and looked me up and down, apraising me.

"I've never seen you around here before." He said "Name's Ashton."

"Zach." I said

"Took a lot of guts to do what you did out there." He told me

"Thanks."

"Why don't you hang with us for a bit?" he said "We were about to go down for a bite to eat." I looked back towards the girl who sat down, crying. I looked back at him.

"Just a sec" I said, and I sat down next to the girl. She was short with chin length curly brown hair and hazel eyes. "Hey, are you okay? Need me to walk you home? Or is someone coming to get you?"

She looked at me. "M-My parent's aren't home right now. They can't come to get me. So if you don't mind, it would make me feel a lot better if you could walk me home." I smiled at her and looked back at Ashton. 

"Sorry man, gotta get this girl home first."

"Hey" he said "You can always come later. I'd like a guy like you in my group."

I shook my head. "I can't. I don't live near here."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Where do you live?" 

Well isn't that a good question. "I live in Roseville, Virgina." I said finally. 

"What are you doing in New York?"

"Visiting a friend. But I'm leaving tonight."

"That's too bad" He said as I helped the girl up. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

The girl and I stuck to the main roads, lest someone try to abduct either of us again. She had mangaged to calm herself down enough to talk a bit.

"So" I asked "You have a name?"

"Sure." She said "I'm Abigail."

"So, Abigail. Where are we headed?" 

She pointed to a row of high rises. "That way."

We made our way through the streets of Manhattan until we got to this place called the crown building. 
"I live on the 21st floor." She said, leading me up. We were standing outside of the door to her apartment and she looked at me.

"Wanna come inside? I have icecream."

Chapter Text

Abigail's house was... well different. Most people, under normal circumstances, don't have their own private elevator up to the penthouse suite of a building. Two men opened up the gigantic french doors for us without a word and Abigail didn't even blink an eye. And if that wasn't indication enough, their house was huge. I'd always pictured New York apartment buildings as on the smaller side, probably shabby but this house was modern. It had bulletproof floor to ceiling windows, marble flooring and all white furniture with a few accent pieces thrown in for good measure. The whole house echoed with the sound of our footsteps as we made our way into the kitchen where we were greeted by a culinary team.

"Hey Francois," Said Abigail "We'd like some ice cream, if you please. I'll have a french vanilla with chocolate ganache on top. " She turned to me "What will you have?"

"Um..." I said "What do you have."

Everyone in the room laughed. "Everything." Said Abigail. "Just ask."

"Surprise me." 

"Of course, Monsieur, it would be my pleasure." Francois said this with a curt nod.

"Make sure it's really good Francois," She said, then turned to me with a smile. "He saved my life."

"Of course Mademoiselle. We'll have it ready in no time. Where will you have it?" Asked Francois

"We'll take it in the T.V room." Said Abby

"Of course." Francois turned with a small bow and began addressing the rest of the kitchen staff. 

Abigail led me through another set of vast doors into a miniature movie theater. There was a popcorn machine in the corner, velvet seats and a projecter hooked up to a screen. Abigail studied my expression and laughed. "Sorry if this is a bit much."

I stared at her in amazement. "It's fine but I must ask..."

"What do my parents do?" She shrugged. "My dad runs one of the world's largest shipping conglomerates as well as a property development company. My mother is on the board of directors for the McHenry beauty company. They also-"

"Wait." I said "The McHenry beauty company?"

"Yeah. My dad's good friends with the senator and my mom absolutely adores Cynthia. They're pretty excited about the whole Winters-McHenry election. They go to all of the rallies which is why" She gestured to the vast apartment "I have this whole place to myself."

"Do you ever go with them to Rallies?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

"Why? You thinking of going to one?" She asked quizzically.

I shrugged. "I'm going to be going to the one in Boston. I was just wondering If I'd see you there?"

She considered this for a moment. "Yeah I'll be there. The question is... why will you be? I'm assuming you're a runaway."

I looked at her, bewildered. "How did...?"

"Your bags. Trust me, I know a little something about runaways."

"You've run away?" I asked, honestly shocked. If I lived in a place like that, I'd never want to leave. 

"Yeah" She said "Six times. I always get found in the end."

"Wow."

"Why'd you run away?" She raised her eyebrows at me.

"I wanted to join the circus" I said and she laughed.

"Try again." She said

"Well... let's just say I didn't really have a home before."

"That's relatable." She said "Where are you staying at?"

I looked at the floor, trying to come up with a suitable response. But she merely smiled and said "Why didn't you just say so? You can stay here. But first you have to answer my question; what's the fascination with the Boston Rally?"

"Uhm..." I said "This girl I like. Cammie. She's one of Macey McHenry's bestfriends. I'm hoping I'll see her there."

Abigail rolled her eyes. "Macey McHenry's the biggest bitch I've ever met. And you like one of her friends?"

"Cammie's not like that" I said

"I'm sure."

"No really. Cammie's one of her friends at school."

Her eyes narrowed. "So she's a snotty rich delinquent." 

I gave her a look. "You're not exactly struggling yourself, miss runaway."

She considered this for a moment. "Sorry. I just have a grudge against Macey McHenry, if you must know. Something that happened in school. I've never been the popular type, but she just hated me."

"How could anyone hate you?" I said.

Just then, Francois came in with a cart with two little covered trays. He opened them at the same time revealing ice creams little crystal bowls. 

Mine was a rich, creamy chocolate covered with Belgian chocolate shavings, little sparklers, and gold leaf paper. I dug in straight away. I hadn't had ice cream since I was a kid. 

"So..." she said "Tell me about Cammie."

"What do you want to know?" I asked nervously.

"Anything."

"Well..." I said, choosing my words carefully. "She thinks she's invisible sometimes, but I think she's the most beautiful girl in the world. You can't help but look at her. And when she speaks, she has the whole room's attention. She's that smart. And she has such a... passion. She'd do anything for the people she loves and to complete her... work." 

"How did you guys meet?"

I smiled at the memory. "In D.C. She was at a school event and she was supposed to meet her teacher at the Red-Ruby shoe exhibit. So I tried walking her to it. But Cammie's not the type of girl who needs saving." 

" I see..." She says and I can tell she was thinking about that day's events. "Well it's getting late. I'm going to have one of the maids make up your bedroom so you can take a shower and rest. Make sure you give your dirty laundry to a member of the house keeping staff so you'll have them cleaned by tomorrow. And I'll make sure to call my parent's to make sure you're coming with us to Boston."

My eyes widened. "You'd do that?"

"Of course" she said with a smile "You saved my life. And besides-" She cocked an eyebrow. "You can either jump on a train all the way to Boston and sleep on a street somewhere or you could ride on a private jet to a private airfield, ride in a limousine, and sleep in one of the nicest hotel rooms in Boston."

"Well when you say it like that" I said laughing.

Chapter Text

I spent the next two weeks camping out in Abigail's apartment. Unlike the girl at the diner, she didn't seem interested in me at all and I was glad for it. She loved hearing about Cammie and I, and I tried my best to explain without giving too much away (such as the fact I go to a top secret spy school.) We mostly stayed inside, watching movies, playing games, and just talking. Even though Abigail wasn't bad company, I found myself wishing that I could have been in that amazing place with Cammie instead.

I wrote Cammie a letter every night before I fell asleep, talking about the small things. How I ate the best chocolate chip cookies in the world or about the sock-hockey game Abigail and I played (which, I failed miserably at, despite four years of intense physical regimen.) I tried not to think of the circle when I was with Abigail. I just wanted to be a normal teen, but I couldn't help but think of Cammie. I wondered what she was doing, whether or not she was thinking of me too. I was constantly on the fence about breaking into/ bugging her grandparents farm, but I told myself against it. Part of me was too scared to know what Cammie actually thought of me, if she thought of me. 

Then, within a blink of an eye the fateful day came in which we were to arrive in Boston. We were escorted from her apartment with two armed body guards, and driven to and from the private airfield in a bulletproof limousine. I couldn't help but think this was a bit much for two teenagers, but Abigail told me her parents didn't want to take any chances after what had happened a few weeks before. 

The hotel room was the fanciest I'd ever been in (which, in retrospect, isn't that surprising considering that I was a 16 year old illegitimate with a terrorist mother) But we had a two-story, six bedroom suite with a view of the Boston skyline, and an in-suite Jacuzzi, so I think it's pretty safe to say that the hotel room was the boujiest in Boston. 

Abby escorted me into a sitting room where two adults were sitting. I assumed these people must be her parents and I could see the family resemblance

"Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Zach." she said, and the father stood up and stuck his hand out at me.

"We are so grateful for what you did for our daughter." He said, and his wife came up and hugged me. 

"You are welcome with us at anytime. And if there's anything you need, anything at all, you just call us okay dear? You're part of the family now." said her mom. I just nodded my head and said thank you, not sure what else I could possibly say. 

Abby called over to me. "Come on Zach, let's go watch something."

"Actually, I'm going to go on a walk, if you don't mind." I said

She nodded, knowing I was going to go out to look for Cammie. "Have fun!" She said cheerily.

I slipped out of the suite and headed directly for the lobby bathroom to put on my disguise. A white wig with crazy white eyebrows. I couldn't even recognize myself. I went to the hotel where I knew the McHenry's were staying at and I waited in the lobby, hidden behind a newspaper. Above me, huge nets were filled with thousands of red, white, and blue balloons. I scanned the people in the lobby. At least a dozen of them were secret service.

Then I saw something out of the corner of my eye that made my heart stop and drop down to my chest.

Cammie.

She's here.

She's safe.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I watched as she made her way down the lobby and I stayed as still as possible. Two men flanked her at either side and she made her way to the elevator that was for the politician's private use only. Her eyes scanned the crowd, stopping briefly when they landed on me. I held my breath as she shook her head as if she was crazy. 

Then she was gone.

I made my way to the back elevator, trying to get to her, but a man stopped me in my path. "Excuse me, sir, this place is off-limits to hotel guests." I looked around me to see if I could take them, but there was at least 2 dozen armed, well-trained men on me at the moment, so I just shrugged.

"Sorry. Must have gotten turned around. Looking for the bathroom" I said.

"Oh. Well it's down the next hall. Be more careful next time, sir." He said

"Of course. Thank you." I said, dodging out of the hotel. I felt better, knowing that Cammie was safe, even if I couldn't talk with her. There was no way any one could get to her inside that hotel room. 

I made my way back to Abigail's hotel room feeling better about things. We sat in the living room watching out of the giant glass windows. 

"Those people are so tiny." She said "Like little ants"

"Yeah. It's cool being all the way up here." I said

She shrugged. "Not as cool as it could be to be out there." She looked out the window wistfully. "Hey. Look at that."

I glanced at her. "What?"

"The helicopter. It's flying weird." she said and went to go turn on the news.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I looked across the buildings and I saw three figures on the roof. 

Cammie.

There were more helicopters now, circling the building, but those were news choppers. I saw Cammie throw another boy onto the washers plank and plummet him down the side of the building. But her and Macey stayed and fought. I saw three masked figures and I knew that one of them was my mom. 

"Zach. Look" she said, pointing at the T.V. And there, up close, I could make out their cuts and bruises. I could see the two girls about to fall. I ran towards the door, but it was locked, so I kicked it down. 

"Zach what the hell?" said Abby but I was already gone. The elevator wasn't working and I realized the whole hotel must have been going into lockdown, so I ran down the steps, forty floors, knowing I'd be too late but had to try anyway. When I got to the lobby, people were crowding the doors, but they were locked. Nobody was getting in, nobody was getting out.

I looked at one of the television screens in the lobby, a last glimpse of Macey and Cammie jumping down a laundry chute into darkness.

Chapter Text

I sat there in the lobby, helpless. As the masses of people converged around me I couldn't help but feel an acute sense of dread slowly creeping up on me. 

"Zach!" snaps Abigail, and I look up to see her standing over me with her arms crossed. "What the hell do you think you're doing? It's madness out there."

I buried my face in my hands, tears threatening to work their way out of my eyes. I couldn't answer her, I couldn't speak. 

"Come on." she says, her voice softer. Slowly and surely we make our way up the forty flights of stairs, our feet echoing rhythmically in the cold concrete stairwell. She doesn't say a word the entire way up. She just wraps her arm in mine and gingerly escorts me back up to the privacy of our suite, our feet in step with one another. The door I knocked over stands against the wall in the hallway, but she doesn't mention it. We head into my room and she closes the door tightly behind her as I collapse into bed.

She studies me, neither of us speaking until the silence is too great and I'm filled with the overwhelming sensation just to tell her everything. I was so sure that she'd be able to understand, and I wouldn't have to do it all alone.

But my life is ruled by all the things I cannot say. So instead we just sit in companionable silence, neither of us daring to speak. This goes on for hours, the hot afternoon sun slowly turning to dusk and then falling into evening, both of us just sitting until the silence is interrupted  by a knock on the door inviting us to dinner. 

At the dinner table everything is laid out beautifully. A glistening turkey sits on a bed of fresh vegetables, a bowl of creamy mashed potatoes and rich gravy lies off to the side next to a bowl of plump, green asparagus. We dine on heavy ceramic plates with ornate silverware, and we drink out of Waterford crystal gauntlets filled with sparkling water.

I sit, aware that there is conversation around me, but not quite listening nor partaking in said conversation. I just sit, in a world of my own methodically pushing food into my mouth. 

"I can't believe they would attempt to kidnap a future vice president's daughter! And a future president's son. Did you see how many secret service were around? The audacity!" Bellowed Abigail's dad.

"Well," said her mother "If you ask me, don't you think it was strange that they were on the roof in the first place? If I'm going to be honest with you, I blame the daughter's friend. What was her name? Camille, I think it was. She goes to the Gallagher Academy, which is a school for ah... problems."

"Ahh. You mean Cammie. Yes, it was mighty irresponsible for them to let one of those trouble-making girls out today with Ms. McHenry. You're absolutely right darling."

Abigail looks over at me and grabs my leg, looking pointedly at my hand. I'm clutching one of the fancy silver knives so tight that my knuckles were turning white. I dropped it, afraid of what I might do. It makes a clang as it falls against my plate. 

"Zach, honey, what's wrong?" asks Abigail's mother. 

"I- I'm not feeling well." I say

"Oh dear. Well, why don't you go run along to your room and I'll send for some medicine. Are you feeling nauseous or...?"

I shake my head. "No thank you, m'am. That won't be necessary. I'll just go and lie down." I rush from the table back to my room.

A few minutes later I hear a soft knock at my door as it slowly opens. Abigail comes back in and sits next to me. She takes my hand in hers, but it wasn't romantic. It was just the gesture of a good friend and I welcomed it. When Abigail finally speaks, it's a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

But I can't speak. I just shake my head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks and I do want to tell her, but the words are like glue in my mouth. Sometimes it's just easier to lie. So I shake my head again. We sit in the same silence we had during that long afternoon, but she breaks it once more.

"You must really love her, huh?" She says

"Of course I do" I say, then hesitated before adding "I couldn't protect her today."

"Is that why you came here?" She ask and I nod. "How did you know it was going to happen?"

I look at her, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

"You're not a normal guy, are you Zach?" she says "I knew it from that day we first met. You knew what you were doing, you've been trained to fight. Most people would have left if a gun was pointed at them, but you acted as if were the most natural thing in the world." She looked out of the window. "And those girls, they fought those men on the roof. I don't care how lucky the media say they are, it wasn't luck. But what was it?"

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. She just plows on, not seeming to care if I respond or not. 

"What was that disguise you were wearing Zach? When you went out?" she asks.

"How did you know about-" I start but she cuts me off.

"Your backpack. I saw it when you went out of the lobby. At first I thought that someone had stolen it, but then I saw your eyes." She looked at me directly in the face. "Nobody has those same dark eyes."

I think of my mother's eyes, filled with hate and greed, and I whisper "Some people do"

She looks at me again, her gaze almost penetrating as if she was unearthing all of my secrets layer by layer. "Why don't you tell me about it?" She asks, almost pleading.

"There are somethings I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because if I told you, then they'd have to kill you." 

She starts to laugh but stops abruptly. "You're... you're not joking are you?"

I shake my head somberly. 

"So-what are you- why are they- who are-" She lets out a brief huff. " You're not a bad person, I can see that much. But you act like what happened on the roof is your fault. But you're a good-" I cut her off.

"Look Abigail," I say softly " I try to be good. But I can't erase my past." I look down "But I'd do anything to make it right."

"Are you in trouble in anyway? Because I have resources. On all branches and levels of the government, my dad has friends, we have money- "

"Abigail" I say firmly "I am the trouble."

She looks at me. "But you said you weren't the bad guy"

"I'm not. But it's in my blood. And that's not just something you forget so easily."

"Zach-" she starts

"There's nothing you can do." I say "But I'm going to have to leave tomorrow. I've put you in enough danger as it is."

"No." she said "You saved me from those guys."

"Can you trust me when I say that what's after them is much, much worse than those guys. They wouldn't give up so easily. And when they fall, there's more to take their place. And if they know that you know, they won't stop until they get you."

She looks up at me. "But... I don't know anything! You can stay, and I won't ask any questions."

"It doesn't matter. If they think you know, what difference does it make? I need to leave, before they realize where I am." I say. 

"But what about you?" She asks in a small voice.

"They won't hurt me." I say. "They are me."

I can see a thousand questions forming in her eyes, but she doesn't ask them. Instead, she throws herself on me into an embrace. Neither of us says a word, but we don't need to. She breaks away from me, resting her head on my shoulder and somehow I manage to fall asleep.

The next morning I wake up to find Abigail still sleeping in my shoulder. I try to move out from under her without disturbing her, but I have no such luck. She snaps awake immediately. Her and I look at each other for a moment and her gaze falls down. I scramble up from the bed and stretch out a hand to her, helping her up.

Slowly, she helps me pack up my stuff. It's not much, but it takes us a while anyway. Neither of us were looking forward to me leaving. But time waits for no one, and there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. 

"So this is it?" she says, and I look at her sadly. 

"I don't know."

"Well... if you're ever in New York, come and find me. Or if you ever need any help... or...." 

I smile at her. "I'll try. But don't come looking for me. It's dangerous."

"Do you think I could come with you?" 

I stop at this, and we both stare at each other once more. I look away first thinking about how lonely it was, all of those train rides and those cold nights roaming the streets or random cities. I thought about Abigail and how she was a good friend who had given me a home when she had none.

But in a spy's life every home is temporary.

"I'm sorry." I say "But I can't do that to you."

She nodded her head and threw herself into my arms. "Stay safe" She whispers, tears dripping down her face.

But I don't say anything.

Because I don't want to make any promises I can't keep.

Chapter Text

Cammie was safe. She was back at the Gallagher Academy and under the protection of Joe and the Headmistress and all of the other staff. But then why did I feel so uneasy? I wandered around the country once more, heading to Roseville, the dead drop location Joe and I agreed on. This long fence made of varying stones on the outskirt of Roseville, heading into farmland. There was a simple note. 'meet me at the place we did the brush passes; at the time and day of your leaving'

I had a week. To wander around Roseville, doing nothing except waiting. I found myself wandering towards the Gallagher Academy, trying to catch a glimpse of the school I knew so well in the the winter and the spring, but looked so foreign to me in the coming fall. I didn't see it as an operative, or a student who went there would. I saw it as an outsider. The world inside the walls, the people inside those walls were inaccessible to me. 

I was waiting in the center of town, right on those same gazebo steps when I heard a voice. 

"There are six cameras pointing at us. Name them." asked Joe

"The ATM, The pharmacy, that woman's phone, the general store, the dashcam on that car and the hair salon." I rattled off.

"Very good, Mr. Goode." He said. "I've missed you. How have you been?"

"I've been good. How's everything at Gallagher?" I asked.

"The girls are fine, if that's what you're asking." He said.

I breathed out a sigh of relief. I already knew that, but the confirmation makes me feel better. "So, you're just going to keep Macey in all semester right?"

He studies me. "No, not exactly."

"Wait. What do you mean? " I exclaimed

"Well, her parents want her Ohio for the Rally. We've kept her under our protection for as long as we could but politicians are, in a word, relentless. They don't give up so easy. But there will be security."

"If you're sure." I said

"I am."

And that's how I ended up riding a train all the way to Ohio. It was hot and crowded, people were constantly bumping into one another, and there was a ton of security dressed as everyday civilians.  A long grassy promenade covered at least two city blocks. Beautiful historic buildings lined the space, but at the far end, someone had erected a stage. Bleachers circled behind it, facing the lawn. Everywhere around me boasted "Winters-McHenry" so I took a button, hoping it would help me blend in. 

I kept an eye on the stage where the McHenry's were standing. Macey went up to give a speech on her parent's behalf.

"It's great being here today." Macey looked out over the crowd. She looked lost for a moment—dazed. But then I could have sworn she saw someone else in the crowd... A Gallagher girl. A new light seemed to fill her eyes as she looked at us and added, "With my family." At this point Senator McHenry put his arm around his wife. "And there's something I want to say," Macey went on, even stronger now. "There's nothing we can't do if we stick together. There's nothing we can't overcome if we try. I learned that from the people who love me. The people who know…the real me." This time I knew Macey wasn't alone here. She had her girls.

As the crowds pushed through, trying to get closer to the canadates, I slipped away. There was a small sound. A flapping in the wind where a yellow banner had broken free of its restraints, banging against the aluminum posts. I slipped through the tiny crack, trying to get away from the noise, the hot Ohio sun. 

And then I saw her come through as well.

Cammie.

She pushed her way under the bleachers, and stopped as her eyes adjusted to the dark. I ran towards her, and grabbed her shoulder to spin her towards me, to kiss her. But she reached back to grab my hand, stepped into the move, and swung me smoothly through the air as I landed on the red balloon with a pop.

"Hello Gallagher Girl" I managed to wheeze out and her mouth opened with shock. She didn't move from off of me but instead just sat there, questions darting through her eyes. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things I wanted to do, but instead I just sat there, gazing up at her while she sat on top of me, my arms pinned down under her knees.

"Hey Gallagher Girl..." I said "You going to let me up now?"

But she just leaned over me, like a Gallagher Girl. "What are you doing here?"

I looked her, trying to explain but unable to find the words. How was I supposed to tell her that my mom wanted to extract her, and that she killed her dad, and that it was all my fault? And now I was trying to protect her from it.

So I just tried to smile when I said "Oh, I'm very interested in Ohio politics."

She scooted backwards, stumbling into her feet. "You can't vote."

"Yeah, but I can campaign" I say, gesturing to the button pinned to my jacket. 

Her breathing got uneven and her hands started shaking. She looked down at me and muttered "You're a long way from Blackthorne."

"Yeah." I smiled. "Well, I heard that Macey McHenry was going to be making her first post-convention public appearance here today"—I stood and brushed some stray confetti from her hair—"and where there's one Gallagher Girl, there are usually others." I smiled bigger, unbelievably happy that I was seeing her again. 

"We're like smoke and fire that way," she stuttered.

I smiled at her,  "Something like that."

"I thought you'd vowed to stay out of secret passageways and laundry chutes, but I guess…" I started but didn't finish. I couldn't finish. Instead I reached up and traced the bruise that had all but faded along her hairline, and I got a flash of anger so deep I knew it could only be quenched by vengeance. Next time I saw my mom, I wouldn't hesitate. I'd do what I'd been trained to do. 

To kill.

Lost in thoughts, I faintly heard Cammie say "How did you know about the laundry chute?" 

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, and I pointed to myself like I use to. "Spy." 

Cammie lifted up her hand to her ear piece and said "Bleachers"

"Bex?" I asked her

"Yeah" She said bluntly.

I was relieved that she wasn't here alone on one of her "Special Missions." That Joe was there, and the other Gallagher Girls. She was safe.

"So you got back up?" I asked, just to be certain. "The girls are here? And Solomon?"

"Of course they are" she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

She put her hand up to the comms unit on her head once more and turned to me. "Zach there's someone under the bleachers-" And she stopped, realizing we were the people under the bleachers. I turned away, expecting her to follow me so we could talk more but I heard her voice behind me.

"Miss this area is restricted." Said a guy

"Oh my gosh!" She said, sounding ditzy and not at all the Cammie I know. "I had to go to the bathroom so bad so I-"

"We?"

But I was already gone.

Chapter Text

Authors note: SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING. I know it's been TWO WHOLE DAYS. I just didn't feel like writing ;-;. I've just been scrolling through the void that is tiktok and lying in bed doing absolutely nothing. 

How's your day? What do you guys think of the book so far? LMK if you have any suggestions. 

At this point I realized the best way to find Cammie is to follow Macey McHenry. She was going to be in Philadelphia for another convention, and although I didn't think Joe would risk having them do an assignment I had no doubt in my mind that Cammie would do anything to make sure one of her friends were safe.

The problem was, it wasn't her friend in danger.

The train station didn't look like a train station. It was a huge roman-style building with giant columns sprawling across its entrance, adorned with a giant banner that read:  WINTERS-McHENRY: PUTTING AMERICA BACK ON TRACK.

The rain fell hard against the sidewalk, the white wig and suit I wore getting drenched quickly. I ran to the side of the east side of the building where (according to the blueprints) there's an elevator access panel. Surprisingly, there were no guards in that area so I was able to slip inside easily. 

The station was like another world; the ceiling was 50 feet tall and covered with intricate carvings. A string quartet played Tchaikovsky's String Quarter no. 1 in D major, the music echoing off the stone floors, and I thought back to a very different night, where I wore formal clothes while listening to a string quartet and pretended to be someone else. The ball, the Gallagher academy, and Cammie seemed like such a world ago, but I missed it.

There were at least 500 men and women in the room, eating, drinking, talking. But every pair of eyes in the room was on one girl. She wasn't tall, but she wore stiletto heels paired with a very short dress. She walked with confidence, like every step she took just demanded we look her. She had waist length sweeping black hair that swished when she walked. 

The crowd started getting excited, and I knew the candidates must be arriving. A sort of energy was coursing through the old station while the rain pounded against the massive windows. 

An ancient looking train with an old-fashioned red, white, and blue bunting hanging from the caboose was slowly moving into the station. Every member of the crowd started screaming loudly. 

Governor Winters and Macey's dad stepped out onto the stage behind the caboose, and then their wives. Macey and Preston were one step behind them.

I looked back at the girl from before, but she wasn't smiling. She wasn't waving or screaming for the candidates. Our eyes met for a split second and I knew that the reason I couldn't stop looking at her wasn't because she was sexy... it was because she was Cammie. 

I ducked my head into the crowd running towards where Macey was standing, trying to get into the train. I looked into the reflective service and I saw Cammie bump into Preston Winters. She looked at him and smiled, grabbing his arm. 

I eased down the length of the train and into the stone tunnel from which it emerged and I ran into Joe Solomon.

"Joe" I said

"Zach? What are you..?"

"No time to explain. I just need you to know something." I said

"What?"

"Macey's not the target. She's never been. It's been Cammie all along."

"Why didn't you say this before?" He snapped at me

"Because... because it's my fault." I looked at him "They're after her because I hacked into the Gallagher Academy records and found her CoveOps report. I don't know why they want her, but they do and-"

"Well, she's safe at the school. I'll make sure headmistress morgan keeps her that way." Said Joe.

"She's not." I said

He looked at me, bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"She's here."

He turned around and walked away, back towards the party, varying his pace in order to hear the footsteps of anyone who might be following in the dark tunnel, a textbook countersurveillance procedure if ever there was one.

The Secret Service was standing guard at the ends of the tunnel, but a small service hatch was open, a cart loaded with trays of food and crates of beverages was waiting to be wheeled on board. I walked slowly toward it, and then in a flash I ducked inside the compartment, knowing Cammie would go in to see her friend. 

I grabbed a clipboard and read it's contents. Macey would be in compartment 14. I darted inside and waited for her to come in. 

I heard the lock turn, but I had locked it, knowing that wouldn't stop a Gallagher Girl from coming in, and I was right. I grabbed for her, but she ducked out of my reach. I pulled the wig off of her head looking at the wig and then to her wondering why she didn't have the sense to bobby pin the wig on. 

I looked her in the eyes, and I was mad. How could she be so stupid? So careless?   "You aren't supposed to be here, Gallagher Girl." I'd never been as mad as I had been then. But I wasn't only mad at Cammie. I was mad at myself, for letting this happen.

She looked shocked...then angry. She looked at me coldly and said  "You're telling me that I shouldn't be here?"

"It's dangerous," I said, not wanting to explain more. I shouldn't have to explain more. She should be able to trust me. If she loved me, she wouldn't have to question why. 

"But she doesn't love you" a small voice inside me whispered.

"In case you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself." she said, just as the trained lurched forward. She lost her balance and I held her in my arms, inhaling her scent of vanilla lotion and cherry chapstick. She started to pull away, but I held her tight, never wanting to let her go ever again.

"Shhh,"  I said as the voices in the hall outside faded for a second. I looked into Cammie's eyes and then they darted down to her lips. I wanted to kiss her, to freeze time hold her in that moment forever. But I couldn't. She deserved better than me. So instead I smiled at her.

"Nice disguise," I told her.

"You too," She said "It looked even better in Boston."

She saw me in Boston?

I didn't know what to do or what to say. In that small space, my arms still wrapped tight around Cammie, I was completely frozen. 

"Yeah I-" I began but was interrupted by someone knocking on the door of the compartment. She looked at me, eyes wide and I looked around the room for somewhere, anywhere to hide.

And finally my eyes landed on the collapsible sleeping bunks. Cammie and I darted inside of it, pressed up closely against one another. 

"What's going on, Zach?" she whispered through the pitch blackness of the little collapsible bunk. 

My arm was around her waist. My breath was warm on the back of her neck. I could hear a woman in the tiny compartment saying, "Macey, I don't want to argue about this anymore. Just wait in here," but Cammie didn't really feel like being quiet. 

"You were in Boston, Zach." she said

"Shhh," I whispered, pulling her closer with a jerk around my middle.

Outside our tiny bunk I heard more voices coming from compartment fourteen. I recognized Macey's voice, but not the man she was with. 

"You know," the deeper of the two voices said, "I've been told this is my best suit."


"That's how you knew about the laundry chute," she hissed. "Why were you there, Zach?" she whispered, growing desperate.

"Not now." I whispered firmly.

"And don't say it was because we were in danger, because at the time we weren't in any danger."

"You want to take a nap or something?" I whispered.

"Yeah, and while we're on the subject, why are you here?"

"I could ask the same thing of you, Gallagher Girl, except we should be shutting up now.

 The voices outside had stopped. Macey and the man weren't talking anymore, but they were still out there. Because there were sounds. Sounds I recognized. Sounds I really didn't want to think too much about. Because I think they were the sounds of kissing.


"What were you and Mr. Solomon talking about?" she said a little too loudly. 

"You don't get it, do you?" I twisted her  so that our faces were inches away from each other in the black. "This is dangerous"

"Cammie," I said "This is—"

"Yeah. I kinda figured that out the day I woke up with a concussion." she snapped

"Don't make light of this."

"What about 'concussion' is synonymous with 'making light'?"

"You shouldn't be here," I said again slowly, trying to make her understand. 

"You're here," she snapped back.

"Listen, this is no place for…"

"A girl? A student?" she said. "What, Zach? Tell me what you are that I'm not."

I looked at her, not wanting to lie, but not up to the full truth either. "I'm someone who doesn't have anything to lose."

Everything else went away then—the noise from outside, the rocking of the car, the pressure, and the fatigue. I wanted to kiss her, to tell her the 3 words that had been ringing through my mind since we met sophomore year that night in D.C. And maybe she would have said them back.

But we'll never know.

Because just as I touched her face, the world fell out from underneath us. Gravity took hold. One moment I was holding the girl I loved in my arms, and the next I was landing like a ton of bricks on the hard, cold floor of a moving train while Macey McHenry stared down at me. And the girl underneath me. And said, "Well, this wasn't on my agenda."

"Ms. McHenry!" a male voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Secret Service! Is everything okay?"

I was splayed on top of Cammie, one of my legs tangled with Macey's backpack. A tray of food had fallen with us and was now splattered all over the floor.

Macey looked at us, the most unusual look on her face, as if she knew that, with a single word she could bring that door—and our entire world—crashing down. She smiled, savoring the moment before she slowly said, "Everything's fine. I just knocked over a tray."

"Shall we send a porter to—"

"No!" Macey snapped. "I want to be alone, or is that too hard to understand?"

I heard retreating footsteps.

Macey dropped to the bench across from us while Cammie and I tried to right ourselves.

"Hi, Zach," she said, her right leg swinging as she sat with it crossed over her left.

"Hey, Macey," I said, as if I fell out of ceilings and into the private chambers of the most highly protected girl in the country every day. ( I didn't) "Sorry to drop in," I said, looking over and Cammie with a mischievous glint in my eye "but Cammie just had to be alone with me. You know how she gets."

She smacked my arm.

I flinched. "You know, you're going to hurt me one of these days, and then you're going to feel really bad about it."

"Yeah," she started, "well, maybe if you would be honest with me for one—"

"Um, just so you know," Macey said, cutting Cammie off as she leaned back, enjoying the show, "Abby will be back in approximately two minutes, so you lovebirds might want to make this quick."

I totally expected the Cammie  to recoil at the word "lovebirds." But she didn't. I grabbed the bag I've been carrying and turned to Macey. "Thanks." I placed my knee on the bench and leaned toward the dark window, staring into the black as I said, "This is my stop anyway."

"Hey, McHenry, you mind?" I gestured to the door then stepped back as Macey opened it and checked the aisle.

"Oh, officer," she called to the sentry stationed in the hall outside. "Can I see your gun?"

As the man turned his back on us, and I dashed out into the hall and to the door at the end of the car, Cammie following. I stopped suddenly and turned to her. "Hey, Gallagher Girl," I said, looking at me more deeply than he ever had, "promise me something."

The train was faster now. Night streamed through the windows. I stepped closer to her. 

"Be"—I reached up and gently touched the place where her bruise had been as if it were still fresh and swollen—"careful."

And then I stepped to the end of the car and slid open the door. The noise was overpowering for an instant. We were going over a great ravine, nothingness streaming on both sides as I spread my arms out wide. I looked back at her for one fleeting second.

"I love you" I thought

And jumped into the night.

Chapter Text

Tumbling into a ravine with nothing but a parachute wasn't one of my smarter ideas... particularly when the parachute gets snagged on a tree and you sit there like a dysfunctional trapeze artist while trying to unhook yourself... and when you finally do you tumble down the hill into the water that sits on the bottom. 

"Great." I muttered through clenched teeth. The night was cold, and being soaking wet didn't help much. Not to mention it was raining. 

I made my way out of the slow-moving river that flowed through the ravine, and was met by raindrops falling on my face. 

I hunted for a cave, a pipe, anything I could conceivably sit in and become dry but there was none. I grabbed the parachute and pulled it over a low hanging branch, pinning the edges to the ground using stones. I ended up laying on the wet ground in soaking clothing while the wind howled outside and the rain only poured harder. I had no way to make a fire, to get dry.

Somehow, I fell asleep.

My dreams were broken fragmentations of the last few months previous. I heard the song my mom sang relentlessly those weeks I was with her. I saw Cammie dancing alone in a strapless red dress, her figure bloody and disformed. She was screaming for help on the streets of Rome but I couldn't get to her.

I woke up screaming.

Well, as much screaming as one could do when they have a pounding headache and a sore throat.

I was sick. I was so sick I could hardly move from the spot I was lying down at. Even though the warm sun bathed the area I was at in a golden light, and the trees only had a glazing of dew on it, I was shivering. 

I looked around me trying to get a hold of my surroundings but I couldn't focus. I was coughing, a wet cough that rattled my lungs and sent waves of pain to my brain. Every part of my body ached.

I inched over to my pack to grab a bottle of water. The pain of getting there was excruciating. Even though it was only a couple of feet it took me an hour... or at least it felt  like an hour. My internal clock was all wonky from the sickness. When my fingers finally closed around the bottle I raised a shaking hand to unscrew the cap, but I couldn't do it. I was too weak, too tired. I trembled, not knowing what to do. Unable to form a coherent thought. I looked through my pack for anything that could help me.

And then I came across my little stack of burner phones.

I dialed the number that I had memorized.

"Hello?" The voice asked, picking up on the first ring.

"Hi." I said weakly

"Zach?" said the voice

"It's me." I replied, sneezing.

"Oh god, what's wrong. Are you-?"

"I'm-" I coughed a great heaving cough. "Sick. Could you-"

"Yes. Where are you."

"Pennsylvania. In a ravine along the Warminister line regional trail."

"I'll be there in an hour. Zach be-"

"Careful. Got it." I finished.

I couldn't do anything but lie there, helpless. Waiting to die. 

Authors note: Who do you guys think the voice is? Good or bad vibes? I feel bad for Zach!

Chapter Text

I dreamt of Cammie. We were walking along the streets of Roseville hand in hand, not talking but not an awkward silence either. It was just the two of us, alone. And we were in love. I could feel it radiating off of her and I felt it inside me, stronger than ever. She leaned towards me a gave me a kiss, her breath warm against my cheek and I felt like I was floating. 

When I finally woke up, someone was sponging my forehead with a damp cloth. I was in a warm room, tucked into the most delicious bed I'd ever slept in. Of course, it helps that I hadn't technically slept in a bed in a while. I opened my eyes to find Abigail next to me. I smiled up at her.

"Mornin' sleeping beauty" she said and I laughed.

"Can't laugh- hurts." I stumbled on my words. "I feel better though."

"Yeah, well, you've been out for two days. But your fever finally broke. What the heck were you doing in the bottom of the ravine?"

"I.. well... um... I might have jumped out of a moving train." I said, forgetting Abigial didn't know about my special abilities. "Uh.. I mean-"

She looked at me. "Zach. I need to tell you something."

I looked around the room startled. "What is it?"

She bit her lip and closed the door.

"Well, I've been taking care of you the last couple days, and you've been having weird dreams and hallucinations. But also... you've been talking in your sleep." she said. "And... well... you said something about being an um.. spy. And that would explain a lot. But I get if you can't tell me, so just don't respond. I don't even know why I brought it up, honestly, I'm so-"

"Abigail." I said "It's true. I'm a spy." I said, wincing. I wasn't used to telling the truth.

She nodded. She wasn't surprised. I was merely confirming what she already knew. I wasn't normal. 

"So. Cammie and Macey they-" she began

"Yes." I said. "When I told you I met Cammie in D.C, that was only part of the truth. I met her on a CoveOps assignment. And then my school did an exchange with her school."

"The Gallagher Academy?" she asked

"Yes."

"So the girls who go there aren't snotty heiresses... they're.."

"Spies." I finished. "They're all lethal in fighting and have genius IQ's and can speak 14 different languages. They're able to hack into the CIA for credit and they're far better at pretending to other people."

She was speechless.

"It's a lot to take in, I know. But you can never let anyone know the truth, about me, about the Gallagher Academy. About anything I've said. And everything I'm going to tell you." I said

"There's more?"

"Of course. I left school this year. My mom's apart of the circle of cavan, an ancient society that most people don't even realize exist. But they do. And they're after Cammie."

"Why do they want her?" she asked

"Well, that's partially my fault. Actually it's entirely my fault."

She raised her eyebrows. "You mean to tell me that you set an entire terrorist organization onto the girl you love?"

"Well, when you put it like that... uhm. Yes." I launched into the tale of what had happened in Rome, my semester at the Gallagher Academy. The time I spent with my mother. I told her everything, and it felt good to be able to tell somebody. But I was also afraid.

"Abigail" I said. "I shouldn't have told you that. I think I'm still delirious from the fever I-"

"Don't worry. I did a bug sweep of the room. " She raised her eyebrows "I knew that befriending you after you left my increase some risks so I-"

"Where's you learn to do that?" I asked, amazed.

"The head of my dad's security showed me... but don't worry. No one except the helicopter driver knows you're here. And I paid him off to keep quiet. Not to mention made him sign a stack of NDA's. You're safe. I was even able to disable all of the security cameras when him and I carried you up here."

"Wow." I said. "Well... thank you."

"It's no issue. I'd do it for any of my friends." she paused "not that any of my friends would be as ah... interesting as you are."

"That's a word for it." I said. "but still... me being here increases so many risks for you. I can't stay for long."

"Of course." She said getting up. "I'll be right back."

"Okay." I nodded, closing my eyes. I was still so weak... so tired.

When she came back she was holding a bowl of the most delicious thing I've ever smelled. I woke up immediately. 

"Here you go, sleepy head. Some of my chef's home-made chicken noodle soup." She placed the bowl on the table and helped me prop myself up on some pillows. She dragged a chair over and lifted the spoon up to my mouth. I opened it obediently and she spoon fed me the soup. It was amazing. 

"This is the best soup I've ever tasted" I declared 

She smiled. "I knew you would like it. It's my favorite when I'm sick too." She gave me another mouthful. "So, how was it like to see Cammie again?"

I thought about it. "Well... I was mad at her for being there in the first place. And she was mad because I couldn't tell her. Not that she knew that" I added with a glance at Abigail "But... I just couldn't bring myself to tell her. I don't want her to look at me how everyone else looks at me. I want her to see me, not my mom."

She nodded. "I feel like that about my parents sometimes too. They're... well... you've seen them. But I'm just me." She shook her head. "But yours is way worse. " 

 "Yeah. My mom went crazy right before Rome. I kept thinking I could get her back, to help her through it y'know? but I couldn't." My voice cracked "She's too far gone." I laughed, a little half laugh that didn't quite reach my eyes. It sounded fake even to me. "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again thinking it would go differently. And if that's true, I went crazy a long time ago."

She smiled sadly at me, and grabbed my hand. "Everythings going to be alright. I promise. Now open your mouth."

I opened my mouth and she placed two pills inside. "Swallow." She said, pushing a glass of water towards my lips.

She got up. "Get some rest Zach."

And I fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Authors note: I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THIS SOONER WTF. I'VE BEEN GROUNDED :( MORE REGULAR UPDATES COMING SOON. 

A few days go by and I feel remarkably better. No splitting headache, no more cough, no runny nose. Just a little bit weak. 

"Zach" Says Abigail

"Yeah?" I ask. We're sitting in front of her movie-theater style TV playing video games. 

She's kicking my ass.

"Wanna go play some basketball?" She ask. Now I know normal boys like playing video games. They tend to be good at them. But at Blackthorne we didn't have TV, and I was constantly moving around as a kid, so no video games there either. Basketball, however, I was quite good at.

"1 on 1?" I ask, and she nods. "Sure" I say. "get ready because you're going down!" 

"Oh yeah?" She says, cocking an eyebrow "I wouldn't count on it, lover boy."

Ten minutes later we're out the door. Abigails wearing basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt, and her fluffy brown hair is in a ponytail. We bring along two men as her security detail, them walking ten feet ahead and behind us. We get to the park around dusk, the muted New York sky sending golden light through the skyline. It was beautiful, and I wished Cammie was there to see it with me. 

I dribbled the ball back and forth between my legs, taunting Abigail. "Come on shortie." I  smirk at her "Is that all you got?"

"Well if you would actually play, I'd wipe the floor with you, but you're all bark and no bite." she retorts and I laugh. I make my way across the court, but Abigail is fast and takes the ball out from under me. I run after her, forcing myself between her and the net.

"Zach look!" She yells and I turn around.

Rookie mistake.

She uses me as a spring board, launching herself into the air and dunking the ball into the net. 

"Aw Come on!" I say, but I'm laughing.

"Hah!" she says. She's still hanging onto the net, her short legs dangling down. 

"What are you doing?" I ask her. 

"I..." She stammers. "I- I'm just enjoying the view."

I look at her, raising my eyebrows. "You're stuck, aren't you?"

"Well... yes. Yes. That would be the technical term for it." she says

"Just let go!" I say laughing. It was less that three feet down. 

"I can't!" She says

"Why not?"

"Because..." she says, turning red "I'm scared."

I laugh even harder. "C'mon, I've got you." I say, grabbing her by her waist and lifting her down. Now we're both laughing, doubling over, clutching our stomachs. Across from me a lady has her sunglasses perched on the bench next to her. They're the kind that are so reflective that they're practically mirrors, and in the reflection I see something that makes my blood stop cold.

There's a guy in a red tracksuit looking straight at us.

A guy that I'd seen an hour before outside Abigails apartment in a suit and tie. I face Abigail, an excuse to turn around and notice that both the body guards are gone.

Chapter Text

"Abigail" I say quietly, a smile plastered on my face. "We have to get out of here."

"Why?" asks, starting to turn around but I grab her arm, keeping her faced firmly towards me. 

"Do you trust me?" I ask, my eyes meeting hers. 

"Of course I do."

"Then we have to walk away like nothing's happening. Do you understand me?"

She nods her assent and we both start walking away toward the direction of her apartment. "Grab my arm" I say "They won't shoot you if they might hit me."

Panic floods her eyes and she grips my arm tightly, like a lifeline. An unmarked van is speeding towards us, so we duck into the alleyway to try and avoid it.

No luck. 

The van makes a sharp turn into the alleyway and three masked men come bursting out of the vehicle. They run towards us at an alarming speed.

"How fast can you run?" I ask Abigail, not waiting for an answer, just gripping her hand in mine and running through the alleyway. I throw a dumpster in their way but they just push it aside. The alley's a dead end. I push Abigail behind me, and get ready to fight the guys who are coming closer and closer with every passing second. Abigail grabs my arm and points up to something.

I follow her gaze until I'm met with the sight of a fire escape, but it's too high to reach... unless you jump. I nod my assent to Abigail and she takes a running jump, launching herself off of my back, grabbing hold of the ladder. There's a fleeting moment where her hands meet the metal and she struggles to pull herself up where I think it's the end. 

But she does it. She yanks herself up and sends down the ladder for me. I scamper up the ladder, faster than I've ever climbed before, and yank it up after me. We run up the fire escape until we reach the roof. 

There are two helicopter's coming toward the roof at an alarming speed, three men coming up the stairs, and no exits.

"Abigail" I say "I'm going to have to ask you to jump." The buildings of the roofs are close together, about five feet apart, but if you don't make the jump then you fall ten stories onto solid asphalt. 

"Jump?" She screams "Are you crazy?" 

I shrug. "Crazy is apart of the job. Now jump!" I feel my feet lift off of the roof and for about 3 seconds I'm flying. I land solidly onto the other roof, but I don't hear Abigail land next to me. I turn around to face her, and she's frozen in place on the other roof. 

"I'm scared of heights" She admits and I curse under my breath. I forgot about the basketball hoop incident even though it was only 20 minutes ago. A lot can change in twenty minutes.

"It's okay. You'll be fine." I tell her, but she shakes her head. "ABIGAIL WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. YOU HAVE TO JUMP."

She takes a deep breath and takes a running jump...

and misses the roof.

She's dangling from the roof by her fingertips, tears streaming down her face. She has a gash on her cheek and her hands are all busted up. I run towards her pulling her up towards me and her blood stains my hands. She lets out a cry of pain when her hands meet mine, but I don't let go. 

Suddenly I hear a sound I'd know anywhere. 

They've sent a sniper. 

The shot lands ten feet to my left, hitting a door. I drag Abigail towards it, swinging it open. Together, we run down the stairwell, down four floors into one of the halls in the building. We're on the sixth floor and I run towards the end of the hall and kick open the window leading to a small balcony. They'll be here any minute. 

I look around for an awning, a bush, anything to help us escape. When my eyes find it, I look at Abigail uneasily. "Close your eyes" I say, and she does it. I clamp my hand over her mouth and jump into the trashcan below.

The smell is horrible. I want to throw up, the trash juices covering my clothes, my skin. But I don't. I force Abigail deeper into the bin, keeping my hand over hers to stiffle her soft cries. The van zooms past us and I realize that they didn't see us jump off.

I sigh in relief "We'll wait here for twenty to make sure they're gone. Then we'll make our way to the train station."

"No." She says "We'll make our way to the airfield."

"Okay."

"Zach" She says to me "Is this what you're doing when you're not hanging out with me."

"Nah" I tell her "It's normally more dangerous than this."

Her eyes widen in disbelief "You're kidding, please tell me you're kidding."

I smile. 

"You're not kidding." She groans.

When the twenty minutes are up we make out way towards the airfield. A single runway lies between two fields of grass, and two planes and a helicopter lie in wait. Abigail's parents have 24 hour on-duty pilots, so it takes less than five minutes to get into the plane, ready for lift off. 

Once we're safely in the sky, I tend to Abigail's wounds. I wrap her hands in bandages and clean the cut on her face. "Thanks" she mumbles not looking at me.

"I'll be back. I need to talk to the pilot."

"Okay."

I make my way towards the cockpit where a young man is flying the plane. "We need to get to Roseville, Virginia." I tell him, but he doesn't make any adjustments. He just keeps flying north, the exact opposite of where I want to go.

"Sir?" I say again. 

He shrugs. "Sorry Mr. Goode, but I'm afraid there's been alternate arrangements.

Chapter Text

When he says my name it sends a shiver down my spine. "I never gave you my name. How did you know?" I asked. On the radar it registered two objects flying steadily on either side of us, flanking both sides, too close for comfort.

"Oh." He says "My boss told me."

"And your boss is...?" I asked cautiously, noticing that the cockpit voice recorder had been tampered with. 

"Your mother. You have quite the bounty on your-" 

But he doesn't finish. He can't. Because I have my hands around his neck, strangling him. The plane starts tilting to the side and I push him down as hard as I can and then jump into the pilots seat. I put on the headset, but instead of a flow of normal flight information I get silence.  "Abigail!" I yell, and she comes darting in. 

"Zach what the hell?" She says. I press the autopilot button. 

"The guys with the circle. So are those two helicopters." Her face goes white.

Suddenly the guy grabs her leg and she screams trying to shake him off, but his grip is like iron. I get up and kick him on the side of the face. Hard. His eyes roll up into the side of his head and a bruise is already forming. I bring him into the back of the plane and tie him up with a seatbelt. I couldn't bring myself to throw him off the plane... yet.

"This is bad Zach." She said and I nod.  The helicopters are drawing closer, trying to figure out whats going on.

"Get ready for a bumpy ride!" I say and Abigail screams, burying her face in her hands. I send the plane into a nose dive, heading down into the nearby mountains. Helicopter's can't descend or ascend as fast as a jet so I'm at a slight advantage.

But not much of one.

I hear a beeping sound and look down at the radar to find a rapidly approaching red dot coming towards us. I send the plane up and the missile skips over us landing into the chopper on our left sending it into a downward spiral.

"Oh my gosh!" Yells Abigail as I send the plane lower and lower into the mountain range. I dart between hills, flying as low as possible, but the other helicopter seems to have disappeared. After about 20 minutes of nothing appearing on the radar I manage to say words.

"Abigail, where am I going to drop you off?"

"Drop me off?" She says, dazed. I nod, but she doesn't say anything further. 

"Abigail." I say. "Where?"

"I have a house in the Hampton's. We could go there-" 

"Not we. You. And you can't go there. You have to get off the grid and stay off the grid. Get a disguise. A new name."

"I'll be back." She says warily and I sigh in frustration. She disappears for a good forty minutes.

When she comes back, I don't turn around to greet her. I keep my eyes on the dark skies around me. "Where have you been?" I snap. The smell of peroxide hangs in the air. "And what is that smell-" I turn around and am momentarily silenced by the girl in front of me. I can hardly recognize her. 

"Drop me off in Pinehurst. It's a town in North Carolina. From there I'll hop on a train until I get to Cavendish, Canada. My parents own a shipping port there. Then I'll ride stowaway on a boat until I get to the family plantation in Kuantan. There I'll work as a laborer until I hear the coast is safe."

"Abigail" I say, in awe "Are you sure you're not a spy?"

She smiles. "Not yet." She gazes out the window, her face taking on a far-away dreamy quality. "But maybe someday."

We land in the middle of a grassy field in North Carolina right before midnight. We're in the middle of nowhere on a private piece of land owned by a friend of Abigail's parents. The sky is clear and the moon is full. Around us, a million fireflies light up the night sky around us.

This time, we shed no tears while saying goodbye because it wasn't goodbye. It couldn't have been. I knew I'd see her again someday, and she'd be stronger. She was no longer that girl I rescued that hot July day. She was tougher. I knew she'd be okay.

"I'll see you around Zach" She says with a wink, disappearing off into the night. We didn't tell each other to stay safe, to be careful. Safe and careful were no longer a variable in our lives. 

I turned around walking in the opposite direction she did, trying to make my way into a town. We left the plane and the pilot there, stranded. There was nothing we could do with it.

I walked five miles into town, and in the dark, it looked just like Roseville. It was an all-american town with an old-fashioned main street and a gazebo. I curled up inside of it and finally went to sleep.

Authors Note: Hi!!!! What do you guys think of Abigail now? Do you think they'll meet again? Is she good or bad? 

Also thanks for all of the comments and kudos!!! They make my day!! 

Chapter Text

Authors note: So uh... I'm officially horrible. Please don't stop reading. LOL. I just started school again (senior year woohoo) and the thought of being online more than I have to makes me want to gag. But I shall update! Yes indeed!

I wake up when the sun first strained it's early morning rays, bathing the town in a heavenly glow. I made my way to the bus stop thinking about how long the bus ride to Roseville was going to be. 

Six hours.

I spent six hours on a rickety bus going 40 miles per hour along a freeway. But as I gazed at the town square that I knew every inch of I felt like I was home. I went back to the dead drop that Joe and I frequented and recovered another note. 

Same Time, Same Place.

I had a date with Joe Solomon. 

Three day's later him and I met in the town square under the gazebo. 

"Zach!" He says "Hugging me. "You're alright."

I give him a grudging smile. "Barely"

"What's the difference?"

And perhaps that was the scariest thing of all. In a spies life death isn't uncommon. Double that if your mom is in the Circle of Cavan.

"How's Cammie?" I ask

"Ah. Already want to get into the specifics don't we?" 

I rolled my eyes, my face going hot. I try to shrug nonchalantly " I just want to make sure she's okay" 

Joe shakes his head "She's fine." He pauses before adding "She's not your concern. She's an amazing operative and besides that" he raises his eyebrows "her little ahh.. stunt got her banned from leaving the school grounds."

"Yeah like that's going to stop her" I say shaking my head. "When has that ever stopped her?"

"I assure you, Mr. Goode, that we have a great number of eyes on Miss. Morgan at the moment."

"Does she know?" I ask my voice barely a whisper. 

"She most likely suspects that she has eyes on her, after her mother's warning."

"No. Does she know that she's the target?" I lock my eyes with his.

"No." He tells me. "We figured the information was need to know. And at the moment since she's trapped inside the grounds she doesn't need to know."

"Does she know about me?"

"No one knows." says Joe. "I have to get back to the school. Cove Ops test. See you around Zach." He said walking away. He called behind him "She'll be fine." But it didn't make me feel better.

Because she wouldn't. I knew that much.

Chapter Text

I didn't trust Cammie would be the good little girl staying dutifully inside her mansion walls. 

Because she wasn't a good girl. She was a Gallagher Girl. And that always means trouble.

So I tailed Joe. I don't know if he saw me, or if he knew what I was doing but I used every technique in the book. 

And that's how I ended up at the Roseville Highschool homecoming game.

The Roseville football stadium was on the far side of town, nestled against the tall hills that rose from the valley just fifty yards behind me. In the distance, the band started playing. The sound echoed through the hills. The cheering crowd grew louder as I walked toward the chain-link fence, joining the stream of people that flowed inside the gates. Steel beams framed the stands. Specks of dust and debris would fall sometimes like a faint snowfall as I stood beneath the bleachers, staring out onto the field. There were uniformed officials holding big orange markers. A coach paced back and forth, yelling orders no one seemed to hear. Cheerleaders moved in perfect unison, their red pleated skirts flipping as they yelled and kicked. And behind them sat a small stage with five girls in crowns and fancy dresses.

It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen. Formal wear and football in the same area.  Spies have to be comfortable in all kinds of social situations, but I don't think I'd ever been anywhere where some people were wearing tiaras and others were wearing sweatshirts.

And there she was. Cammie. Even wearing a black wig and blue color contacts she was gorgeous. She stood next to a girl with big red hair and glasses. A girl who (judging by the way she held herself up) could only be Macey McHenry. Cammie was looking through the crowds, surveying it for friends and foes alike (because she totally wasn't supposed to be there!) But something made her stop. Something made her eyes go big and worry crossed over her face. I followed her graze to something that made my blood boil.

It was Josh. 

"Did she really sneak out to a football game to see a boy?" I asked myself, watching her follow him. I rush up towards her putting myself between her and the boy.

"What are you doing here, Gallagher Girl?" I said, my voice quiet. I gripped her forearm and ushered her out of the way of a convertible that was driving the freshman homecoming attendant around the track.

"CoveOps assignment," she lied. "You?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to leave school," I told her.

"Yeah, because you're so into sticking around campus these days. Seriously, Zach, do you ever stay at Blackthorne?"

But I didn't answer. I couldn't tell her what I was doing there and I was too angry to anyway. 

"I had a feeling you might try something like this." I practically spat at her "Just tell me …" I started, and for the first time my anger seemed to fade. "Just tell me you didn't do this to see Jimmy."

Perhaps it wasn't all anger. It was jealous. 

"Josh," she corrected me for about the millionth time, but I didn't smile, the joke was long since over. "No," she said, and I didn't doubt that she meant it. "I'm just…here."

Josh was standing with a group of friends ten feet away. Cammie was right in front of me, but she didn't look for him. There I was, caught between the girl I loved, and would protect with my life and her past. And I didn't know what I'd do. 

"Why were you in Boston, Zach?" The air was crisp and cool around us. Soft music started on the loudspeaker as the homecoming court made their way to the center of the field. She looked at me, really looked at me"Why are you here, Zach?"

She stepped closer to me. Expectant. But I had nothing to say. 

The space between us shrank, but as she took another step forward, I took a step back. I felt if she stepped any closer, there wouldn't be space for my secrets. And that was more than I could handle.  Last spring, we teased. We flirted. But that game was over. It wasn't about how much I loved Cammie when it was her life on the line. 

"Come on," I said, taking the hand of the girl I loved so much, but wouldn't let myself have. Her hand felt cold in mine."We're taking Macey home."

"We're not doing anything."

I almost stomped my foot in frustration. Girls! Were they always so difficult?

"Fine," I said, starting away. "I'll go find Solomon, get his opinion."

"Zach," she started, cutting me off, but I wheeled on her, all the anger, frustration, and fear I've felt for the past months gaining momentum, snowballing down. I couldn't control it any longer.

"Do you even know who's out there?" I snapped louder now, and then just as quickly I stepped closer. "Do you even care?"

"The Circle of Cavan is after my sisterhood, Zach. Not yours. They're hunting my friends. They're sending Gallagher Girls down laundry chutes, so don't show up here and lecture me about what's at stake." I drew a breath to tell her the danger she was in, but she continued on her rant. "If Joseph Cavan's followers want to settle the score with Gillian Gallagher's great-great-grand- daughter, then they're going to deal with all of us, and that doesn't necessarily include you."

The announcer was talking over the loudspeaker, saying something about the homecoming queen and her deep love of puppies or something, but she just looked at me. "Why do I feel like I can't trust you anymore?"

I looked at her in the eyes. It was the only true perception she'd ever had of me. She saw me without a cover then, and she knew. She couldn't trust me. "Because the Gallagher Academy doesn't admit fools."

"The family tie to Roseville," Macey softly repeated what the man on the street had said.

Hundreds of people filled the stands around us. They were teachers and accountants, stay-at-home moms and men who worked at the toilet paper factory—regular people doing their best to live regular lives. They couldn't have been farther from Macey McHenry (both the spy and the girl) if they'd tried.

And yet she was right there beside them.

Beside us.

And she'd heard everything we'd said.

"Macey," she said, stepping closer to her, further from me.

"Does this mean …" she started, and I knew there were a dozen ways that sentence could have ended. 

"You knew about this?" she asked. Her voice was cracking. Her lip was shaking. "How long have you known about this?"

She could have lied, I would have lied. But Cammie didn't. Maybe because Macey had lived with her for over a year and would see through it. Maybe because they hadn't covered lying to a trained operative yet in CoveOps. Or maybe she was just a better person than I'd ever be.

"Yeah, my mom told us last—" said Cammie

"Us!" Macey snapped. "Does the whole school know?"

"No! Just Bex and Liz and me. Mom explained all that after you got accepted. She—"

"So I'm Gillian Gallagher's descendant?" The fire seemed to be fading from her, so she reached out, but Macey pulled away. "So that's why they let me in."

"Macey, it's not—"

"True?" she said, staring at Cammie, but she stayed silent.  She pushed away without another word, through the red-clad members of the Pride of Roseville Marching Band, who were exiting the field.

"Macey!" I called after her, but then I grabbed her hand tight. I needed to tell her what was going on and fast. Macey would be okay. 

thirty feet to my right and up three rows, there was a guy in a red cap who jumped to his feet to cheer a split second too late, as if his attention had been elsewhere. On the track between the cheerleaders and the bleachers, two women stood together scanning the crowd while wearing shoes that no small-town housewife would be caught dead in.

I ran, as fast as I could trying to find Joe Solomon. 

Chapter Text

I couldn't find him. 

Two days later I was sitting on a little bench in Roseville lost in thoughts, when I heard his voice.  I turned to see a disheveled Joe Solomon in a dirty white t-shirt and an unshaven beard.

"Zachary Goode!" Joe said sharply, in a tone I'd hardly heard him use before, and certainly never with me. 

"Good of you to find me." I said sarcastically. 

"I thought you trusted me when I said Cammie's safety was none of your concern." Joe said.

"I thought you were a good enough spy to know that Cammie couldn't just sit still in a mansion." I shook my head "Do you really want to lose another member of the Morgan family?"

And for a second, Joe Solomon lost his cool. 

"It's not the Morgan family I'm worried about." Said Joe "Macey's missing"

My mouth dropped open in surprise. "Macey's missing?"

"Yes. Evidently she heard your little chat with Cammie and felt like she wasn't good enough to be in the Gallagher academy." He rolled his eyes. "The girl's good though. We haven't found her in 48 hours. We think she's in Switzerland. There was a girl matching her description found booking a plane ticket using her families private accounts."

I looked at him dubiously. "Do you really think she's in Switzerland?" 

"Well, given that we haven't found her in nearly two days, we think she might have gone somewhere from there. Maybe her house in the Alps. We've widened the band to include half of northern Europe. Wherever she is, we'll find her."

I shake my head in disgust. "Joe. You are one of the best spies I know. You ARE the best spy I know. And you've seen Macey every single day for what, a year? Do you seriously think she'd be that stupid? The Gallagher academy doesn't admit fools." I said, remembering my conversation with Cammie. "and Cammie?"

"Cammie is the least of your worries. She'll be fine inside the mansion."

"She'll do nothing then? Just sit idly by as dominoes fall around her? No she won't. Want to know why? Because if they even have an inking  of an idea that one of her sisterhood is in danger then it's their personal mission to make sure that girl is okay." Cammie might just be stubborn enough to find Macey McHenry, if the circle didn't find Cammie first.

"Do you really think a girl could outsmart some of the CIA's top operatives?"

"Is she a Gallagher girl?"

"Yes." he said.

"Then that's your answer to your question."

Suddenly there was a ring on the payphone twelve feet to our left. Joe picked it up. "Hello. Wise guy. Yes. Yes. No. She is?" he sighs "I'll be there." he hangs up the phone and turns to me.

"Cammie's gone."

I looked at him. I wasn't surprised at all.

"I told you."

"What do we do Zach?"

"We wait." I looked him in the eyes. "They'll find her, or they'll die doing it. But I'm suspecting the former."

"Zach. In two days, the polls open in D.C. You'll be there?"

I nod. "You couldn't keep me away."

Chapter Text

And that's how, two days later, I ended up in a grand hall on super Tuesday watching the girl I loved sit and talk with her bestfriends in the world. She looked happy and free. The McHenry's had lost the election and no doubt Cammie thought her friend was safe. 

But her friend was never the girl who needed saving.

Suddenly they all stopped talking and looked at me. I placed my hands in my pockets and Cammie smiled. 

"I heard someone's playing hooky," I told her. I smiled. Standing there, it felt almost like nothing bad had ever happened—or would ever happen again.

"There's a boy in my life," She told me "He's a very bad influence."

Then I nodded. "Bad boys have a way of doing that. But they're worth it."

The ballroom was too hot and crowded. I felt almost dizzy as I leaned close to her and whispered, "Can I talk to you?"

As soon as I felt her hand in mine I forgot all about my mother's words. I didn't think about how I was apart of the circle, or how the girl I loved might see me if I told her. I wanted someplace quiet, someplace cool. And most of all, I wanted to tell her the truth. So I led her out a side door and onto a street that had somehow become an alley, thanks to Secret Service perimeters and D.C. blockades.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest.

Someone had propped open a door to the hotel, and I heard the band stop. Some other state must have been called, because a moan rang through the night, but I wasn't really listening. Not anymore.

Because it was dark.

And she was cold.

And so I took my jacket off and draped it around her shoulders.

My hands stayed on her shoulders a second longer than they had to. She looked beautiful, her hair catching in the wind, stray pieces of confetti in the breeze and whirling them around us like a patriotic snowstorm.

And that's when I saw the van. 

One second we were standing in the shadows of the streetlamps, and the next, we were shrouded in black. Three city blocks were knocked out, and through the haze, only the Washington Monument kept shining.

"Macey!" she yelled running down the street, away from me and toward her friend, just as headlights pierced the darkness, just as the barriers were crushed against the van that careened so quickly down the empty street that she actually stopped. She actually stared.

Macey. Macey had wandered closer to her and farther from Bex and Liz. She was there, standing alone in the headlights' glare, twenty yards from help of any kind.

"Run!" she yelled, rushing toward her. I tried calling out to her, but I couldn't make my voice work. Part of me wanted to reverse time so I could tell her before she found out this way, but it was too late. The van was too close. Its side door was sliding open. Masked figures were leaning out. Everything was so slow that I wasn't sure my yell would even reach her as she stood dumbfounded in the glare.

And watched the van pass her friend by.

Tires screeched across the pavement as the van skidded past me, turning ninety degrees, blocking off the path from which I'd come.

"Cammie!"I yelled again, but she didn't look back. My yell was lost behind a mountain of rubber and steel.

To my right, I saw her roommates running closer, but the world was in slow motion. Help felt light-years away as a big man jumped from the back of the van. But he was too big— too slow. She dodged his blows and hooked her foot around the back of his knee as she pushed and he stumbled, pinning a second man against the van's door for a split second, and she started to run.

"Cammie!" Bex's voice rang through the night from the south.

"Macey!" she yelled in response. "Save Macey!"

But Macey didn't need saving. 

I kept running. Faster and faster towards her.  I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. All I knew was that I had to keep running— faster and faster until something made me stop in my tracks. Strong arms caught her around the waist. Before her feet even left the ground there was a rag over her mouth, and I knew she would collaspe in this man's arms and there would be no saving her . 

And then falling.

She fell to the ground. Looking around her, until her eyes met mine and I knew her whole world had just faded to black.

Through the eerie glow of the van's lights, we all rushed for Cammie. Everyone was fighting hard for her to get to her.
She was crushed underneath her attacker, a man three times her size. Her roommates battled the men, and I took on my mother.  Liz clung to the big man's back while Bex parried away his blows. Macey fought against the second man. Cammie didn't move, she just stared at us with a glassy reflection in her eyes.

I punched my mother, square in the gut, and she laid, doubled over as I rushed towards Cammie pushing the man off of her. But my mother yanked me back, and I watched as she summoned her last ounce of strength and crashed her head into my attacker's skull.

I heard a crack, and looked back to the sight of the blood of a broken nose pouring over her as she stumbled to her feet. But she wobbled and the arms found him again. The  van came closer as her heels dragged against the pavement, and I ran towards her. And that's when I saw Macey.

She was running toward Cammie. 

I saw Cammie's mouth moving, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. I was too distracted by the sight of the man in front of me, pulling a gun from the holster around his waist.

"No!" someone screamed.
And I stood there helpless as I watched Agent cameron rush past me, in front of Macey. Yells filled the air. Panic spread on the wind as the gunshot echoed down the dark street and out into the night. But Agent Cameron was running through the black, lunging through the air in front of Macey and then falling too hard to the dark ground.

The hand with the gun tried to pull Cammie back, but she spun and kicked,and the masked figure fell.

She stepped, but her legs failed her. She fell to the ground and tried to crawl, but couldn't. I ran to her, but Solomon beat me to it. 

"Get her out of here!" Mr. Solomon appeared as if from nowhere.

"Now!" My mother's voice echoed on the wind.

I  grabbed her arm again, but she lashed out with more rage than I'd had ever felt coming from her. Climbing to her knees, spinning, kicking, yelling, "Get…"

I looked at her, holding my hands out out to her. "Gallagher Girl"

And suddenly she looked so tired. All the adrenaline gone from her body. 

My hand found her's again. I pulled her to her feet as Joe and headmistress Morgan took on the men, and her roommates fought the men. 

"Run," I said, dragging her back the way we'd come— north, toward the door of the hotel. Away from the van. Away from the fight. Away from the gunshot that still echoed through the darkest parts of my mind.

In the distance a siren wailed. Someone yelled, "United States Secret Service!" And forty feet away Agent Morgan lay on the ground. Not moving.

Macey leaned over her. Macey held my jacket to the wound in Abby's chest, trying to stop the blood that spilled onto the dark asphalt, staining all it touched.

"Abby," she whispered, trying to pull away. But I wouldn't let her.

I heard the van come to life behind us. Secret Service agents yelled. More shots rang out, but I didn't move. she ran into my shoulder, too busy looking behind herself to see the man who stood between us and the door.

I saw the gun. I sensed the van as it rushed forward, seconds away and coming faster. I heard the screams of the fight behind us. But nothing that night was louder than the masked man's astonished whisper as he looked at me and said, "You?"
I remembered him from the circle meetings. I guess my mother didn't tell him about me. 

Chapter Text

I stood there watching as Cammie and Agent Cameron were loaded up into ambulances. Cammie was screaming, hysterical and Agent Cameron was lying motionless of a stretcher, her blood seeping through the white sheets. It was, a moment trapped in time only I was trapped there with it.

I sat down on the concrete, motionless, staring at the retreating lights and the masses of people converging around the scene of the crime. Everything happened so fast that night, but I replayed every incident in my head. And it was all my fault. Not just that night, but every incident of pain that's happened to her has been my fault. And I didn't want to love her, with my blackened soul, because she deserved better.

But I couldn't help but love her all the same.

And finally it was Joe who found me tears dripping down my face. I did not sob, my breathing was calm and steady. But even in the dark, Joe knew me. He placed his arm around my shoulders and whispered softly to me.

"Its okay, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. She is going to be okay." But if he was speaking for my benefit or his own, I'll never know. 

"Zach" he said "These past few months you've been doing things no kid your age should have to do. It isn't right. I should have been there for you. Fighting at your side." he paused. "And Zach?"

I looked up at him as he pulled me close and said "I'm proud of you."

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"Somewhere safe."

Chapter Text

FINALLY FINISHED!

This book took me SO LONG. BUT IM DONE.

Don't worry. This isn't the end of Zach's adventure. But tell me, what do you guys think so far? Of Abigail? Of Zach? Let me know!  
 

(Also side note: Where do you think they're going?)

I'll take this moment to completely update my plan for this series. It is now going to be a whopping TWELVE books. Here are the synopsis for all of them (please don't steal my ideas lol). And when I start each of these books, I'll link them here as well.

SYPNOSIS

(If any of you guys can make a better synopsis please do. I suck at doing these. If not, then these are just drafts and I'll deal with them later lol)

Book 3: To be Goode:

Zach has been staying at Joe's Cabin after Agent Cameron gets shot. Joe and him spend the summer together attempting to bring down the circle, but Joe ends up on the run from the CIA, his past out to get him. Determined to save both Joe and Cammie he's on the run once more until all his secrets are revealed. OGSY in Zach's POV. Mainbook # 3 Zach's POV series.

Book 4: The Difference Between Goode and Evil:

Cammie's missing after Zach suggested they should run... but she leaves without him. When she comes back she's not the same and Zach can hardly stand to look at her. Because he couldn't find her. And he can't forgive himself for that. OSOT in Zach's POV Main book #4 Zach's POV series

Book 5: The Fight for What's Goode:

After Cammie recovers from her amnesia, Zach goes and hunts down the circle. And he's shooting to kill. But the circle is dynamic. Zach and the girls must fight to stop the circle from implementing a masterplan to destroy the world before it's too late. But will Zach ever escape his past? Main book # 5 Zach's POV series

Book 6: Only the Goode Spy Young:

5 year old Zacky Goode lives in an old house with violent storms, is scared of the dark and loud sounds, and most of all loves G.I Joe. But when he meets a real G.I Joe, Zach gets to go on his first mission ever. And thats when things get complicated. Prebook #1 Zach's POV series

Book 7: Not all Goode, Not all bad:

Zach Goode is Circle of Cavan, second generation, and he's determined to be the best leader he can be. At eleven years old he knows how to shoot a gun and wield a knife. He knows that it's up to him to rid our world of governmental corruptness. He knows how to kill. But things in theory are always easier, and when he does it for real, he'll never be the same again. Prebook #2 Zach's POV series

Book 8:  The Greatest Goode:

 Zach Goode goes to the Blackthorne institute... and he's trouble. He's the top of his class in CoveOps and Tortual interrogation tactics, not to mention he never misses a shot. But what happens when his past comes back to haunt him? In this chilling installment of the Zach's POV series, we explore the physiological effects of the Blackthorne academy.  Prebook # 3 Zach's POV series

Book 9: Not Goode Enough:

When Joe Solomon comes to the Blackthorne Institute after leaving Zach alone for two years, Zach can't help but be a little resentful. But when he realizes how little he remembers about his past, Zach learns things only Joe can teach him. Prebook # 4 Zach's POV series

Book 10: They say I'm Goode:

When agent Townsend has Zach and Cammie go on their first mission together, things get pretty rocky. And suddenly the world isn't the only thing that needs saving. Will their relationship survive? Or will someone else come between them? Postbook #1 part 10 of Zach's POV series.

Book 11: All in Goode time:

 Zach Goode  Is marrying the love of his life, but while at the CIA he senses somethings wrong and ends up uncovering too much. And as a spy, being nosy can get you killed.

  Cammie Morgan is pregrant, but the father (and the love of her life) has gone missing... and things just don't add up. 

Post Book # 2 Zach's POV series. (This one is in BOTH cammie and Zach's POV because it would be difficult any other way.)

Book 12:  The Goode, The Bad, and The Ugly:

Zachary Goode is sixty years old when he gets the call that changes his life forever. He's been forcibly retired from the CIA. His wife, Cammie goes and takes her rightful place as headmistress of the Gallagher Academy, his kids are the best operatives in the CIA, his little twin brothers are CoveOps instructors at Blackthorne and Gallagher but Zach... is no one. Post book# 3 Zach's POV series.