The Spy

Chapter 12

Agent Carter and John were standing by Reyes' bedside in the infirmary, whispering to each other about the events of the past few days.

"How are you feeling, Reyes?" Agent Carter asked, noticing that Reyes had started to stir.

Reyes slowly opened her eyes and groaned. "What happened?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"You were attacked by Carlo," John explained. "But you managed to get away."

Reyes nodded, wincing in pain. "Did we catch him?" she asked, struggling to sit up.

"No," Agent Carter replied, "but we're hot on his trail."

Reyes frowned, looking confused. "What happened to me?" she asked, rubbing her head.

"You had a concussion," John replied. "You've been out for a few days."

Reyes groaned again, her hand moving to her head. "That's why I feel so lousy," she said weakly.

Agent Carter and John exchanged a worried look, but tried to keep their composure in front of Reyes. "Don't worry, Reyes," Agent Carter said reassuringly. "We'll catch Carlo soon enough."

Reyes nodded, a determined look on her face. "I'll be ready when you do," she said, trying to sit up straight.

"Easy, Reyes," John cautioned, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You need to rest and recover."

Reyes sighed, but knew he was right. "Okay," she said, lying back down on the bed. "But i have to tell you something,"Reyes tried to sit up, but John gently pushed her back down. "Don't strain yourself," he said. "Just rest for now. We can talk later."

Reyes nodded and closed her eyes. "Okay," she said softly.

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Just rest," he whispered.

John was sitting at his desk, staring at the computer screen, when his phone rang. He picked it up and answered with a hesitant "Hello?"

"Hello, John," a voice on the other end said. "I have information for you."

"Who is this?" John asked.

"That's not important," the voice replied. "What is important is that you go to Italy. You'll find what you're looking for there."

"What am I looking for?" John asked, but the line went dead.

John sat there for a moment, pondering what to do. He knew that Agent Carter would want to know about the anonymous tip, but he had a feeling that she would try to stop him from going. He thought about it for a moment longer before making a decision.

He grabbed his coat and headed out the door without telling anyone where he was going. He knew that he was taking a risk by not telling Agent Carter, but he felt that he had to follow up on the tip.

As he boarded the plane to Italy, John couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap. But he had a job to do, and he was determined to see it through.

John stepped off the plane and into the bustling airport of Italy. He glanced at his watch and noted the time, 11:45 pm. He had arrived late but was relieved to find a car waiting for him. As he walked towards the car, he took note of his surroundings; the night was dark, and the airport was quiet. He didn't see anyone around except for a few workers who were cleaning up.

The car was sleek and black, and the driver got out to open the door for John. "Good evening, sir," the driver greeted him in Italian, "I'm here to take you to your hotel." John nodded and got into the car, taking in the luxurious interior.

As they drove through the quiet streets of the city, John couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He didn't know who had sent the car or why, and he wondered if it was a trap. Nevertheless, he kept his cool and waited patiently to see where they were going.

After a few minutes, the car pulled up in front of a grand hotel. The driver got out and opened the door for John once again. "Enjoy your stay, sir," he said before getting back into the car and driving away.

John stood in front of the hotel, taking in the grandeur of the building. He walked into the lobby and approached the receptionist, who greeted him warmly. "Good evening, sir. How can I assist you?" she asked.

"I have a reservation under the name John Westwood," he replied, showing her his ID.

The receptionist looked up the reservation and smiled. "Yes, Mr. Westwood. We have your reservation. Your room is on the seventh floor. Here is your key card."

"Thank you," John replied, taking the key card and making his way to the elevator.

As the elevator doors opened on the seventh floor, John stepped out and made his way to his room. He inserted the key card into the door and opened it, revealing a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a desk, and a balcony with a view of the city.

John closed the door behind him and walked over to the balcony, taking in the breathtaking view. He wondered what lay ahead for him in Italy and if this anonymous tip was going to lead him closer to the truth.