Angels, Pop Stars, and...More Spies? Oh My!

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I nearly dropped the file out of pure shock. In my entire career as a CIA operative, I have never heard of anything this bizarre. A secret spy agency, supposedly headquartered in Los Angeles, who are unknown to most every other agency in the world. I skimmed over the contents of the file for the seventh time, even though I memorized every word when I read it a third time. How can it be unknown to all databases checked?! According to the file, the databases of MI6, MI5, NSA, CIA, FBI, and CSIS were scanned numerous times. It is also unclear what ACE stands for. I sighed, rubbing my eyes and swearing under my breath. Damn. This is a heavy case.

I glanced over at my alarm clock, sitting on my nightstand beside my iPhone. The glowing green numbers read 9:24. I closed the file, hiding it under my mattress and getting up off my bed. My legs, from being folded up for so long, were numb as hell. It's like Shanghai all over again, minus the recently discovered spy agency. My eyes lingered around my room. I walked over to my window wall. The waves crashed against the shore of the beach next to the house, the full moon reflecting off the rolling waters of the Pacific. Sighing, I opened the window and sat on the window sill. Suddenly, I got an idea. What better way to clear my head than to fly around Los Angeles?

The sky was clear, the stars twinkling like diamonds. If I fly high enough, even in the lights of Los Angeles, I can go undetected. Standing on the window sill, balancing myself on my feet, I closed my eyes and jumped. The air rushed around me as I fell until I let my wings go, swooping upwards and into the ink and diamond sky. Adrenaline ran through me as I went higher and higher, the air rushing around me fueling my thrill. I absolutely love flying. Always have. Flying is one of the best escapes for me. All my stress is let go when I fly.

Executing a loop-de-loop that I learned back in training (the one day my trainer decided to have some fun), I flew over the busy, nightlife bursting Los Angeles. The skyscrapers and lights twinkled, causing me to gape. The ever-so-famous Hollywood sign, lit up completely in white lights, stood proud on it's mountainside. I swooped around a cellphone tower, my right wing nearly clipping it. Oh shit, that would've been bad. I laughed as I swept over Los Angeles, clearing my mind and letting my body take over. SO much better than flying over Washington DC. Honestly, and I thought DC was pretty (which it is.)

I flew for what felt like a hour, watching Los Angeles and letting myself forget about the documents in the file. God, I'm tired. Swooping downwards, I landed on top of a skyscraper to take a quick break. I smiled as I landed on my feet. Hence my codename, Kitty Cat. A cat always lands on her feet. I sat down on the edge of the skyscraper, letting my legs dangle over the side and leaning back on my arms. Down below me, a red carpet event was in full swing. Paparazzi and press and crazed fans pressed themselves against the barriers, screaming and trying to get autographs or pictures. On the red carpet, celebrities sauntered by in gorgeous (and expensive) evening gowns and tuxedos, posing for pictures and stopping for interviews. I folded my wings in closer to my back. If anyone jut so happens to look up, my wings would stand right out.

A light summer breeze blew through, ruffling my air whipped hair. I forgot a hairtye too. Damn. When I go flying, I really gotta prepare. Oh well. It's just a quick trip. Getting bored of watching the red carpet event below me (it's not the same as being on the street and watching all the insane fans), I stood up and spread my wings. Turning my back to the event, I walked over to the opposite side of the skyscraper's roof and jumped. Two minutes into my fall, the wind caught my wings and I flew back in the direction I came. If I'm not back soon, everyone will start to get suspicious. Especially President McGallen, Joshua, and Mrs. McGallen. They might just send out a search party to find me. I chuckled at the thought of a search party for me. Sure, they'd find me...if they could fly. Or if one of them owned a helicopter. But, we are in Los Angeles. You never know what people might own here with their crazy money.

It was truly breathtaking to fly over Los Angeles at night. On an early June night, it's perfect. Not too hot yet not too cold with a slight breeze. Perfect flying conditions. I do wish there would be more clouds. It's easier to hide, naturally, but I'm fine. Wary of the cellphone tower that nearly took out my wing before (that not-so-little bitch), I saw the beach where the McGallens mansion sat. Suddenly, just as I was swooping in to make my final descent, I felt a sharp pain in my wing. Cringing, I lost control and plummeted. Screaming for help, I thrashed and flapped my wings frantically. My vision span as I tumbled down towards the Earth. By now, people would be able to see me. Dammit! Giving it one last attempt, I flapped my wings and shot forward. The pain throbbed as I flew back to the McGallens, making it almost impossible to fly.

I reached my open window, fortunately, not too much later and practically threw myself through it. My foot caught the bottom of the window and I tumbled into the room, hitting my head on the wall. Hard. My vision span as I staggered around like a drunk. The last thing I saw before passing out was my bed before my eyes.