Spy School: Zoe or Erica?

The Trap

Attaching the last piece of the pulley system into place, I laid back, wiping my brim of sweat off my face, and examined the lovely trap that I had created within that past few hours.

It was beautiful- at least in my opinion. With a perfectly weighted pulley system, a large metal cage set directly under the gleaming pressure plate that would set the trap off within milliseconds, I didn't think that the SPYDER Agent knew what was coming.

Strolling out of the door that I had easily lock-picked, I locked it again, made sure I didn't leave a trace of my trap, and stood at the door, waiting for the shop to open. When it did, I would make sure the owner didn't set the trap off, buy an Ice Cream, and silently wait inside the shop for the first customer, or the SPYDER Agent to arrive.

After a few minutes of playing Clash Royale on my phone, I heard the closing of a car door echo through the parking lot. Quickly shoving my phone into my pocket, I stood up and pretended that I was a jittery customer waiting for my daily Ice Cream sundae.

The owner, who was in his fifties, didn't seem very surprised at my early arrival. Apparently, his shop was relatively successful, and judging from the Rolex that he was wearing, I expected that he probably took in a high amount of income per day.

He strolled past me, barely acknowledging of my existence (which is what most girls did to me), and quickly inserted the key into the hole of the shop's entrance.

Now, I had planned this whole 'prevent-owner-from-setting-trap-off' thing out, so I was ready for this.

The second the owner was about to step in, I shouted in fear, jumping straight in front of him. This caused him to trip over my body, virtually flying over the pressure plate that I had skillfully set. 

The owner picked himself up, casting a dirty look my way and shaking his head. I grinned innocently, stepping over the trap myself and grabbing a bill out of my pocket that I had prepared beforehand. The owner's face immediately lit up, walking behind the counter and turning on the lights.

"What would you like to order, sir?" he said as I quickly scanned through the menu. There were a wide variety of items that Erica would've never even have tried in her life, but I settled for a low-calorie one. When you were a spy, you didn't want to consume too much fat per day (hear that, Murray?)

The owner rang up my purchase, walking over to the machine, and flicking it on. He went through his whole morning process, cleaning the tables, setting the plates, making sure all the machines were up and running, and making virtually no small talk with me.

"Sorry, you're going to have to wait a while for the Ice Cream machine to warm up," the owner said after watching me stand for an unbearably long time in front of the counter. I held back my 'You're tell me this now!?' and silently strolled over to a table.

I didn't exactly mind, though, since I would be staying here as long as I could to wait for the SPYDER Agent to arrive. And that was probably going to be a long time, since the SPYDER Agents weren't exactly going to get an Ice Cream at 7:34 AM in the morning.

About an hour later, I had comfortably settled down in a large table with my ice cream and my phone. Considering my life as a spy, life couldn't get better than this.

Until, of course, the first customer arrived.

The first telltale sound was the soft tinkling of the bells when the door opened. My eyes quickly averted from my phone, ripping my gaze away from Instagram, and watching as my eyesight settled on...

Trixie Hale, smiling and waving at me.

"Wait!" I shouted, springing up from my seat. "The trap hasn't been set ye-"