Ex's and Oh's

I. Safe

Deep breaths. I'm safe here.

Three weeks had passed since my last assignment.

Two weeks since I had left for this beautiful paradise.

One more week till I receive my next mission.

I opened my eyes and was sad to say I had nobody to share this view with: a crystal clear, saltwater, outdoor pool carved into the rocks, overlooking the deep blue ocean from a small height; a mini garden with lantanas, their bright orange color contrasting with the purple hydrangeas which had just started to bloom; and an overall sunny day which was perfect for me to get a bit of color into my skin.

After only five minutes of basking in the sun, clad in my favorite yellow string bikini, I heard the doorbell ring.

Another delivery?

I pushed myself up from the outdoor chaise lounge I’d been lying on, then covered myself with the bathrobe I had prepared on the side table.

After entering the house and locking the sliding doors, I pushed a button underneath the breakfast bar. For additional security. Just in case.

Then I made my way over to check a small monitor beside the fridge, which constantly broadcasted a live video feed from the camera on the other side of the front door.

The small screen showed the usual, delivery boy with a vase of white lilies in his hands. He pushed the doorbell like he used to do the past few days.

Just as I stepped to side, about to open the door for him, the red button for the intercom lit up. He was pressing the other button as well. It lit up a few more times randomly, not in any code I could have recognized. I waited to see if he would talk through the mic, but he never did.

So I did the most random thing ever. I pressed the button for intercom, then asked. “Taco?”

“Bellybutton,” he said and smiled at the camera.

He’s Academy? I was surprised.

The random exchange was the Academy's standard way of knowing whether the person you’re about to deal with is truly a comrade.

Probably not the best code for ‘I am a Spy. You?’ We need something a bit more complicated. I need to call the bosses and make a suggestion.

I was about to push the button capable of unlocking the front door when I saw movement behind him. One man in a floral shirt and white pants replaced the boy in front of the camera and waved.

Speak of the devil.

I let them in. The door’s lock clicked open and Mr. Duncan, one of the Academy's directors, stepped inside with the boy in tow.

Mr. Duncan was a tall man in his early forties. His black hair, which was usually neatly combed, had been wind blown, resulting in a messy hairdo that— kind of matched his cheerful attitude. He looked quite young for his age except for the age spots around his eyes. I also noticed that both him and the boy now had sun-kissed skin.

I stepped forward to close the door shut when another person let himself in.

“Mr. Buble, as well? What a surprise. Please come in.” Thank goodness, he was in a simple white polo shirt and black jeans instead of his suit and tie, or everybody else would feel underdressed.

I quickly exchanged greetings with the two men. The boy, as I was  informed, was a nephew of Mr. Duncan's and was a new recruit he was training himself. Both of them were staying in a resort about 20 miles south from here, and had been doing a little training after the one-week vacation they just had. Explained why Miles, the Academy boy, had been doing the deliveries for my flowers for the past week.