Chapter Twenty-One

"What about the old ventilation shafts in the basement?" Bex asked as we sat beside a roaring fire in the library late the next night.

I shook my head. "Covered with eight inches of fresh concrete."

"The trick fireplace on the second floor?" Macey tried.

"Maybe." I considered the locks and bars that had been added over winter break.

"Assuming we could get a blowtorch. Do any of you have a blowtorch?"

Liz perked up as if she were about to say that yea, she did have a blowtorch in the back of her closet.

"I'm afraid to know," I said, holding out my hand to stop her.

"Boy, they really want to keep us in, don't they?" Macey said.

"No." Bex shook her head and stared at me. "They want to keep the Circle out." She waited a second, as the truth of the matter settled down on the three of us. "This is dangerous. Too dangerous."

"I'm with Bex," Macey said. "He's asking you to take a really big rick, Cam"

They were right, but all I could think about was the way he'd walking into the center of the very people who were scouring the world to find him. "Maybe it's my turn."

"Okay. Fine. Let's say it isn't true," Bex offered. "Let's say Mr. Solomon is innocent and wrongly accused and that he didn't kill . . ." She looked away, then back again. "Let's say he is the man we know. Does the Mr. Solomon we know tell you to sneak out of the Gallagher Academy, go into town, and meet up with a know fugitive? Does Joe Solomon tell you to be stupid?"

The answer was obvious. That was probably why none of us said it.

"Why don't we go?" Liz said, pointing to herself and Bex and Macey. "See him. Get the message. Bring it back."

"I can't explain it, guys," I said, shaking my head. "I just know I've got to go."

"That doesn't mean you have to be stupid!" Bex shot back, and I realized that Bex was being cautious. Bex had become the voice of reason.

"You didn't see it, Cammie," she went on. "You didn't have to watch them drug you and drag you away like a doll. You were there, Cam, but you didn't have to watch your friend almost go away forever. You don't know how that feels."

"Yeah," Macey said softly. "She does."

I looked at the girls I would trust with my life. Then I thought about my dad and the man he'd probably trusted with his.

"I have to go," I said. "It's my mission."

"It's our mission," Bex countered.

"What are we saying?" Liz exclaimed. "Cam, we don't have to sneak out. We don't even have to go by ourselves. I bet your mom -"

"No," I said, cutting her off. "If she got caught helping Joe Solomon . . . No. We're on our own."

"I know, Cam," Bex said, stopping me. "I know. But if we do this with our backup -"

"What if they're wrong, Bex?" I pleaded. "What if he' the only chance we'll ever have at finding out what happened to my dad? What if while everyone is chasing him, no one is trying to stop the Circle? What if he didn't do it?"

Bex's voice was flat and calm and strong as she looked at me. "What if he did?"

Chapter Twenty-Two

Covert Operations Report

The Operatives utilized a basic Trojan horse scenario. If, instead of a horse, you substitute a 1987 Dodge Minivan.

Well, it turns out that when one of the world's most dangerous and covert terrorist organizations is after one of your students, school officials care less about keeping in than they care about keeping people out.

Or at least that's what Bex and Macey and I told ourselves as we crawled beneath a tarp, a blanket, and about ten million physics notebooks, and lay as quietly as possible in the back of Liz's van.

"Where to this evening?" the guard at the front gate asked. I could picture him leaning against the driver's side window, chomping on his gum.

I had to hold my breath as I waited for the soft, Southern voice that answered, "Just a road check, Walter."

"What's she up to now, Lizzie?" the guard asked. In the light that crept in through the weave of the blanket, I saw that Bex was holding her breath too.

"Almost four hundred miles per gallon," Liz blurted. "I mean three ninety-five to be specific - which I can be. Specific, that is. You know me, Walter. I'm a very detail-oriented person. I'm just going out to test it in stop-and-go driving. I'm not hiding anything!"she blurted, and Bex's eyes went wide.

PROS AND CONS OF BREAKING OUT OF SCHOOL

(A list by Operatives Morgan, McHenry, and Baxter)

PRO: As Trojan horse operatives go, the back of a minivan isn't nearly as bad as it can get.

CON: Rebecca Baxter, despite her many good qualities, is a cover hog.

PRO: There's nothing like a completely unsupervised, possibly illegal covert operation to take a girl's mind of the terrorist organization that is after her - not to mention her Culture

& Assimilation homework.

CON: The girl really should have been doing her Culture & Assimilation homework.

PRO: When you haven't had a real CoveOps lesson in months, you'll take any practical experience you can get.

CON: When you haven't had a real CoveOps lesson in months, you can't help but feel really, really rusty.

I know the streets Roseville. I've walked them with my classmates. I've held hands on them with my first (and technically only) boyfriend. I've seen them filled with football fans and parade spectators, with ladies selling cakes and candies for the church auxiliary, and kids out for a Saturday matinee.

It's all-American as a town can possibly be, with its white gazebo and movie marquee and town square, but it seems different as I stood in the library bell tower, staring down at the square. There was nothing there but me and sky - no walls, no guards - and yet I felt stranded. Like the ravens, I know I couldn't fly away.

"You have good cover here," Bex told me.

I could hear Macey through the comms unit in my ear, saying what I already knew: "The square is clear." I could see Liz in the van, circling the block.

"Liz is tracking you from the van," Bex said. "We've got back-up relays outside of town in case the van is compromised."

Bex kept talking, but all I could think of was how the air was colder. The stars felt brighter. The breeze was softer as if blew against my check. It was as if all my senses were in overdrive, and I couldn't help but think most people feel like that sometimes -

when they're alone or in the dark. When they hear a noise in the closet or a creak on the floorboards, they sense it. It's not about being scared - it's about being alive. The nerves work harder, carrying messages to the brain, getting it ready for fight or flight, and that night, well, let's just say that night my nerves had their work cut out for them.

"Cam?" Bex asked as if I hadn't heard her. But she was wrong. That night I heard and saw and smelled everything. "I'm gonna get into position. Are you satisfied with this position?"

I scanned the square and nodded. "Yes."

"You're safe here." She touched my arm almost as if she were trying to get my scent, as if she might soon be chasing me around the world.

And then I watched her go.

Standing alone in the tower, I reminded myself of all the things in the world that I knew to be absolutely true: Rebecca Baxter was the best spy at the Gallagher Academy and the absolute last person who would lie about my safety. I had GPS trackers in my watch, my shoes, my ponytail holder, and my stomach (thanks to a new edible model Liz had been trying out).

My roommates and I all carried panic buttons that could summon an army within the blink of an eye. They could track me anywhere in the world (and ,Liz firmly believes, the moon).

And yet I couldn't shake the feeling that the square seemed smaller from where I stood, or maybe the world just felt bigger.

I held a pair of binoculars to my eyes and scanned the streets, telling myself that I was as safe as I could possibly be. I was prepared. I could handle anything. I ready for everything . . .

Except for the sight of a tall figure with broad shoulder, appearing as if from nowhere at the edge of the gazebo, and saying, "Hello, Gallagher Girl."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Perspective is a powerful thing. Seriously. I highly recommended it. There are things you just can't see unless you take a good step back and watch very, very closely.

I mean, if I'd been standing in the town square and not the bell tower, I might have heard the girl say, "Well hello yourself," but I might have missed the way the boy stumbled backward as she turned. I might not have noticed the way his shoulders fell and his head jerked in the manner of someone who had not found what he was looking for.

I might never have realized that Zach was disappointed to find another girl in the gazebo.

"Macey?" Zach asked as if he couldn't believe his eyes, which was maybe the most flattering thing ever. Because no one has ever mistaken me for Macey McHenry. Ever.

But it was dark, and even without access to the world's greatest closet for deception and disguise, Macey was still the daughter of a cosmetics heiress. And in a wig and Zach's old jacket, she made for a good decoy, or at least good enough.

"Where's Cammie?" Zach asked.

"You look disappointed to see me, Zach," Macey teased. "Don't you like my jacket?"

"Where is she?" Zach demanded.

"At school," Macey lied without missing a beat. "Watching from a live video feed. "She's safe." She inched closer, staring up at him.

"The jammers at the school wouldn't allow that, Macey. Now where is he?" he turned. "I know she's around here somewhere," he said, scanning the alleys and buildings that lined the square.

"She's safe where she is, Zach." Bex stepped out of the darkened alcove by the movie theater and moved into place behind him. "And we're going to keep it that way."

"I need to talk to her," he told them.

"So talk," Macey said. "We've got comms. She can hear."

"I need to see her."

"I'm coming down," I blurted, desperate to be off the sidelines, but Bex's hand was on her ear. She was shouting at me. "You stay where you are!"

But I was already gone.

"She's lucky to have you," Zach said after a long time. "She needs you."

"What are you doing here, Zach?" Macey asked, but Zach only shook his head. He looked down at the ground.

"It's complicated."

"So un-complicate it." Even as I said the words, I knew I might regret them. And soon.

Maybe Zach was bait and I was walking into a trap. Maybe Bex would save the Circle the trouble and kill me on the spot, but I couldn't stay away.

"You're with him," I said.

"Technically, he's on an errand halfway around the world right now," Zach tried to joke, but my mind raced on.

"Liz and Macey told me that just because you go to Blackthore doesn't mean . . ." My voice caught. "But you really are with him."

"Gallagher Girl, listen to me."

"So . . . what happened, Zach? Did the Circle recruit you too?"

He looked at me for a long time before he lowered his head and whispered, "Not exactly."