3 - Ethan

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     I can't get Chloe off of my mind. What is she going to do in England? Then again, why did Hunley call her to go there? I sit on the edge of my bed, looking through the open glass doors in front of me. There's nothing but Hawaii's sand, dark blue ocean and a pale blue sky to stare at. It's beautiful, but it's not enough for me to get her out of my head. You're on vacation, relax. My mind can't just make up what to do.

Ilsa sits behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning her head against my back. "Are you still worried about her?"

"I've been worried about her. The worst part is that since she's an adult now, she thinks she's almighty and won't listen to me."

"Ethan, everyone has to grow up sometime."

"But she doesn't have to act like this."

"Do you think we should call Hunley?"

I nod. "Yeah, I think so. Good idea." I grab my phone from the counter, dialing Hunley.

After two rings, he answers. "Ethan?"

"Hunley, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"The mission. Why is everyone going to England?"

"Because there are bombers in England-"

I glance at the TV on the dresser for a moment. It's on CNN. There's a video of a man in a suit shooting at a man holding on to a woman's hand. The headline is: BRITISH SECRET SERVICE AGENT KILLS INNOCENT HUSBAND.

"The man known as 007 in the British Secret Service has killed a man who was just staring at a parade in Manchester." The reporter announced.

"Alright?" Hunley finishes.

I forget what he said before I hear his voice again. I just tag along to what he says. "Uh- yeah..."
"Ok. William recently told me you had a problem with Chloe tagging along, right?"
"Yeah, I did."

"Ethan. You agreed to let Chloe fully decide what she wants with the IMF once she turned 18. Remember?"
"Not until you told me."
"I think you just remembered when you wanted to."

"Hunley, have some slack, please! My daughter's an adult now!"
"I would show you slack, but my kid's 21 now. At least she can't drink, yet."
I sigh, knowing he's right. "Fine. Just let her go, ok."
"Alright. Bye."

"So, what was that about?" Ilsa asks.

I shrug. "I dunno."
"You were just on the phone with him!"
"I know, but I saw that a British Secret Service agent just killed an innocent bystander."

Ilsa squints as though she knows him. Then again, how would Ilsa know a British Secret Service agent? "What's his name?"
"007."

Her face becomes pale. "James Bond."

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