Until Death Do We Stop Spying-a Gallagher Girls fanfic

Chapter Two

I still like the Zach changing his last name to Morgan headcanon, but I'll keep it as Goode for you guys. Besides, I can make so many not very Goode jokes...

Walking into the main floor of the CIA headquarters at Langley was a relief. I clipped my name tag to my shirt collar and smiled as I read it.

Cameron Ann Morgan Goode, CIA field operative

Zach took my hand as we walked across the giant CIA logo on the floor. "Survived first life-or-death experience as a couple. Check."

We walked down the long corridor and stepped into the small reception room of our division director, Ross.

No first name for him. Just Ross. Our director is kinda on a last-name-only basis. So that's how we knew him as.

I twisted the wedding band around on my finger as we waited to be called in.
Ever since Zach had slid the ring on my finger, I hadn't been able to stop sliding the silver band off my finger and reading the engraving on the inside of the ring.

I always finish what I start.

The door to Ross's office swung open and I looked up. A man stepped out, wiping his sweaty hands on his dress pants. Our boss's cold voice carried out the door to him. "And next time, finish the job!"

His nervous face glanced at me and he hastily walked out of the reception room. The image of the man's face tugged at the edge of my mind, like I'd seen him before.

Probably saw him on a training op.

I was unable to think that over more because Ross called us into his office.

With the press of a button, he made the door shut behind us, the lock clicking into place. His message was clear: I'm in charge.

With his dark hair, expensive suit, and proud posture, Ross was certainly the most intimidating division director in the CIA. Perhaps in all of America's clandestine agencies. The only thing that seemed human about this man was the faintly amused look in his eyes.

Weird.

Before we had a chance to sit down, his beefy hand slammed a thick file on the dark mahogany desktop.

"That is mahogany!" Zach whispered in my ear. I suppressed a smile.

Ross's head shot up. "What did you just say, Goode?"

Zach lowered his head, although I could still see a smirk playing on his lips. "Nothing, sir."

Although Ross was only a few years older than us, he treated us like he was the headmaster and we were naughty children. Great if you wanted to instill fear (or at least fake fear), not so great if you want to be called Mr. Teacher behind your back.

Our superior eyed my husband and started to talk about our new assignment. (Which had very rudely interrupted our honeymoon. I'm never going to get over that.) "I'm sure you've both heard of the Circle and how there's splinter groups, such as Catherine Goode's." With that, his dark stare seemed to bore into Zach's eyes.

"Don't-" Zach started, but bit his tongue with a quick squeeze of our clasped hands from me.

"I assume you're aware of her leadership of one of those splinter groups. Those groups, her's especially, have been gaining power. We sent several agents into the groups, but we haven't heard anything from them. We assume they're dead." He paused and took a breath. "I've assigned the two of you the task of going undercover into one of the remaining splinter groups in New York City. You leave tonight."

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I panted as Zach and I ran through the narrow alleyways of New York City. "What's up with us and assassins at airports?"

"I don't know," Zach huffed, pushing me out of the way of a homeless man lying in the middle of the alley.

"Watch it!" he cried with slurred words.

I stole a glance back at the dark, narrow passage. "Sorry!" I moved to take another step, but my attempt was futile.

Without almost any warning, I felt a sharp pain race up my lower right leg. Through the inky black of the night, I could see my foot had twisted in a deep crack in the rough cement. The voices and heavy footsteps of our pursuers started to close in on us. "Zach!"

He spun around, his eyes assessing the situation I had thrown myself into, almost costing him to lose his balance on the uneven pavement.

I tried to untangle myself from the ground, only exceeding in twisting my foot even more. I could hear the curses of the men who chased us come closer.
My ears picked up on their constant stream of curses, coming closer by the second. I struggled more.

Zach jerked me up with a sharp pain shuddering through my ankle and pulled me into the shadows behind a stack of large crates. He had pulled me away just in time as our three pursuers came upon the homeless man, also almost tripping over him as I had done.

I watched the scene unfold through the cracks between the crates' boards.
One man nuzzled the drunk with his boot. "Where are they?" he demanded.

The street man shrugged. "Don't know what you talkin' 'bout."

The pursuer kicked him. "Don't act dumb! We know you know where they are!"

The drunk spread out his arms. "I don't know. They could be here. Over there. Heck, they could even be on my head and I wouldn't care."

The men shared a glance and the leader nodded. One of his men took aim and I buried my head in Zach's arms, willing ourselves to become invisible, anticipating what I knew was going to come next.

A shot sounded, I knew that would be the last time the homeless man would never scold someone for tripping over him.

"We'll break up and search the area," I heard the leader tell his group. "No one can disappear into thin air."

I let out a sigh of relief as the men passed us by. Maybe my wish had come true and we did dissolve into the air.

Zach waited five minutes before he helped me out of our hiding place.
"I'll call into Headquarters and tell them that we'll need the safe house instead of the hotel. Then we can check out your foot. Okay?"

I nodded. "Just don't tell Ross about my ankle. I'm staying with you on this mission."

Sorry for the long wait. (Over a month, I think. Geez.) I was so stuck on this chapter. So, yeah...

EDIT MONTHS AND MONTHS AND MONTHS LATER: I haven't abandoned this story . . . I have an ending, it's just that I have nothing for the middle without making it mindless trash like I did the last book in this series . . . Please forgive me for my absence.