Spy Between the Lines (formerly New World, Old Foe) [Gallagher Girls Fanfiction]

Chapter Eight

Macey knocked on the small dressing room's door. "Hey, Cam, are you all most done in there? Because we also have to get the boys a decent suit too."

I sighed and adjusted the clear strap on the dress Macey had forced me into. I opened the door and stepped out.

"Turn," she ordered.

I lifted my arms up slightly and spun in a circle, catching my reflection in a mirror. It wasn't bad, really, the dress that Macey had picked out for me.

The dress I was going to wear to the gala was made of navy blue fabric that flowed down the floor. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were embellished with black sparkles, covering the scar from the bullet that Dr. Steve had shot into my upper arm my senior year. Macey had chosen that dress for a reason, and being fashionable probably wasn't the main factor.

My self-appointed stylist handed me a pair of black heels with straps around the ankles. "Put these on."

When I tried to walk in them, I almost fell over. Macey steadied me. "That's a wrap."

I took off the torture shoes, thankful to put my three dollar flip flops back on.

"Don't worry, darling," she said, helping me unzip the back of my dress. "With a little practice, you'll be strutting across the room in no time."

Macey knocked on the next door and Bex stepped out in a gold, form-fitting dress that reached a few inches from the floor. The straps were goddess style, covering the bullet wound on her shoulder from breaking Preston out of the Alaskan prison. Macey had accessorized with black pumps and gold bangles. If Bex didn't look like and Egyptian goddess before, she certainly did now.

"Wow, you look gorgeous, Bex!" The sight of the gold fabric up against her skin really did take my breath away.

"That looks nice," Macey said, almost to herself. "Let's purchase these items and get the boys ready."

"What are you going to wear, Mace?" I wondered. I didn't see her carrying anything to the register.

"I all ready have a dress that I brought with me. It's always nice to be prepared."

Outside, we found the boys sitting on a bench. Zach was resting his head on his hands and Grant had given up trying to shove a sleeping Preston off his shoulder.

I held out the credit card to Zach. "Here you go."

Macey snatched it from my fingers. "I'll be taking that." She smiled a sugary smirk. "I'm going with them."

Zach and Grant groaned.

"What? You think I was going to leave you three to fend for yourselves?" She shook Preston. "Wake up, sleepy head. You're not escaping this."

Preston groggily opened his eyes. "Make me."

Macey grabbed his arm and twisted it into a painful position. "Wrong thing to say to a Gallagher Girl."

His eyes went wide. "Okay! Okay! I'm ready! Let's go!"

She looked at Zach and Grant. "Do I need to do the same to you?"

They shot up. "Nope! Let's go!" Grant said.

"Smart choice," she smirked. Macey looked at us. "I'll meet you two up at the hotel."

The streets of Kabul were busy. The aromas of food wafted from carts and restaurants. Colorful scarves blew in the breeze from shops. People milled around, looking at fresh produce and textiles. It reminded me of Rome.

But then something caught my eye. More like someone. A tail.

"Bex," I said calmly. The man was dressed as a tourist now, but the last time I had seen him, he was wearing modern Afghanistan clothing.

"I see him," she replied, never taking her eyes off of the road ahead of us.

"Can we do anything to improve our situation?"

"Nope. All we can do is use the methods of losing a tail."

So that's what we did. It was a lot like the CoveOps exercise in the D. C. Mall, but this time, the stakes were higher.

In the entrance of a store and out another. Zig-zagging back to where Macey had left us. Diving into big crowds. By the time we were a block away from the hotel, we were sure we had lost him. But not one hundred percent positive.

"We should split up," I suggested.

Bex nodded. "Meet you there."

We separated, Bex taking the main road and I took the side streets. As I walked down the last alley, I had the feeling that someone was watching. I'm okay. I've already made sure I'm clear.

But I still couldn't shake the sickening feeling. A spy has to trust her gut. So I turned around and started to walk toward the busy streets.

A flash of red. Someone dropped down in front of me.

The voice I never hoped to hear again said, "Hello, Cameron, dear."