Until Death Do We Stop Spying-a Gallagher Girls fanfic

Chapter One

Squee! American cover released! Probably my least favorite out of all of Ally's covers, but it's one step closer to the release!

Aqua waves rolled onto the tan sand. Leaning palm trees shaded me and Zach from the blistering sun. Wind blew sand into my sandwich.

Our honeymoon was perfect. Well, except for the sand in my sandwich part. And what came next.

The burn phone in my beach bag rang, interrupting our peaceful silence. With a glare from Zach, I answered it.

"Goode, we need both of you back, stat," our division director demanded over the phone. No, Hello, Mrs. Goode. I hope I'm not interrupting anything, or Congratulations on your marriage.

I scrunched my face. (Let's just say I'm really happy the burn phones don't have cameras.) "Of course. I'll tell my husband right away. We'll get there as soon as we can."

"Hurry," he ordered, and hung up.

I groaned and threw the phone back into my bag. "The boss wants us back at work. He said to leave now. Wasn't very nice about it."

"Geeze, it's only been two days," Zach grumbled. "Somebody won't win the best boss award." He folded his towel and tossed it in the beach bag.

I gathered up the bottles of sunscreen and water. "You ready to count saving the world as family time?"

"Let's go."

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Stepping off the airplane at night into the crowded airport, I could feel something.

And it wasn't the warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you're about to get home.

Eyes.

I could feel eyes watching my and Zach's every move.

"Zach..."

He stared strait ahead, not portraying a thing. "I can feel it too. We need to get out of here. Now. We'll get our bags later." He pulled my hand and we walked faster. To anyone who might notice us, we might have looked eager to get our luggage before a wave of people swamped the luggage belt. But we were spies on a mission, and our mission right then was to lose a tail.

As we neared the main doors, I caught a glimpse of a man talking on his cell phone using the dark, reflective windows. Normally I wouldn't cast a second glance in his direction, but I saw something. The telltale print of a gun through his jacket. And his free hand was slowly creeping toward it.

I pushed Zach closer to the door as a shot rang out, zipping by where we'd been standing only a second ago. Screams pierced the air. Zach and I ran out the door as more bullets whizzed past us. It was a miracle we hadn't been shot; either that, or the man was a horrible shooter.

We ran all the way to our parked car, not waiting for the shuttle bus to pick us up. Zach shoved the keys in the engine and stepped on the gas, not even stopping at the toll booth to pay for parking.

"You're gonna have to pay for that," I said as a flash took a picture of our license plate.

"Good thing the plate's fake."

A car with dark windows pulled out of the lot and pursued us.

Let me tell you just a little bit about high-speed car chases. They're nothing like the movies. Sure, we use police methods of driving, but that doesn't mean we don't run into a few cars and other objects you wouldn't want to know about. High-speed chases are dangerous. Especially at night. You almost have no control over the car. Every second, you see your life flash before your eyes (especially when your husband's driving).

Speeding through the dark streets of Washington, D.C. is not exactly what you want to do after you get off a plane. I can't say that we lost the tail car after a block, even though it would've looked really good on our records.

Speeding down a long and vacant street, shots started to fire. But the bullets weren't flying into the car. I glanced at Zach with a questioning look.

"Installed bulletproof glass a few weeks ago."

"Oh. I guess that's saving our lives, then."

He grimaced. "It won't hold forever, though."

"That's comforting."

Zach made a sharp turn into a lit parking garage, making the man at the toll booth look up sleepily in surprise. The man noticed our tail car and shook his head, resting it on his hands to fall back to sleep.

"We're going to be cornered," I pointed out. Zach didn't respond.

Instead, he pulled into an empty parking space on the first floor and the lights shut off, leaving us in the darkness. The headlights of our tail car were approaching fast.

"No, we're not." He pushed a button and we pitched down into darkness.

Helloooooo. Sorry for the wait. Dance, volleyball, and homework take up wayyyyy too much time.