I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You by Ally Carter

Author:Ally Carter [carter, Ally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781423132011
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2010-05-06T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Spies are wise. Spies are strong. But, most of all, spies are patient. We waited two weeks. TWO WEEKS! Do you know how long that is in fifteen-yearold-girl time? A lot. A LOT, a lot. I was really starting to empathize with all those women who talk about biological clocks. I mean, I know mine's still got a lot of ticks left in it, but I still managed to think and worry about Operation Josh every spare minute—and that was at genius spy school, where spare minutes aren't exactly common. I can only imagine the misery of a girl going to a normal school, since she probably isn't going to spend her Saturday nights helping her best friend crack the codes that protect U.S. spy satellites. (Liz even split the extra credit she earned from Mr. Mosckowitz with me—the cash prize offered by the NSA, she kept.)

We were in the classic holding pattern, gathering info, building his profile and my legend, biding our time until we had what we needed to go in.

Two weeks of this. TWO WEEKS! (Just in case you missed it before.)

Then, as with all good covert operatives, we caught a break.

Tuesday, October 1. Subject received an e-mail from Dillon, screen name "D'Man," asking if The Subject would like a ride home from play practice. The Subject responded by saying that he would be walking home—that he needs to return some videos at "AJ's" (local establishment located on town square that specializes in movie and video game rentals). I looked at the e-mail as Bex slid it onto the breakfast table in front of me.

"Tonight," she whispered. "We're on."

During CoveOps class I honestly couldn't write fast enough. Joe Solomon is a genius, I thought, wondering why I'd never realized it before.

"Learn your legends early. Learn them well," he warned as he leaned over, gripping the back of the teacher's chair I'd never seen him sit in. "The split second it takes you to recall something your cover identity would know is the split second in which very bad people can do very bad things."

My hand was shaking. Pencil marks were going everywhere on the page—kind of like the time I picked up a pencil to use in Dr. Fibs's class, only it turned out it wasn't an ordinary pencil, but rather a prototype for a new Morse code auto-translator. (Needless to say, I still haven't fully recovered from the guilt of sharpening it.)

"Most of all, remember that going into deep cover does not mean approaching subjects." Mr. Solomon eyed us. "It means putting yourself in a position where the subject approaches you."

I don't know about regular girls, but when you're a spy, getting dressed to go out can be something of a production. (Can I just say thank goodness for Velcro—seriously—no wonder the Gallagher Academy invented the stuff.)

"I still think we should have put her hair up," Liz said. "It looks glamorous."

"Yeah," Macey scoffed, "because so many girls go for glamour when they hang out at the Roseville town square.

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