Project Seven - Chapter 2

A L E C

It's  been  four  and  a  half  hours  playing  what  I  hate  most  about  being  a  field  agent:  the  Waiting  Game.  I  drummed  my  fingers  against  the  steering  wheel  while  Have  a  Drink  on  Me  by  AC/DC  played  softly  in  the  stereo  system.  I  looked  out  the  window  of  the  passenger  seat,  glancing  at  the  small  photo  from  the  file  every  now  and  then.

"You  know  what  I  don't  like?"

"What,  Jasper?"

"Jokes  about  German  sausages.  They're  the  Wurst!"  He  laughed  at  his  own  “witticism”.

I  sighed  and  said,  "That  was  terrible."

"C'mon,  Alec.  You  gotta  admit,  that  was  a  good  one.  Now  I'm  in  the  mood  for  sausages.  How  about  you?"  I  didn't  answer,  and  instead  rolled  my  eyes.

I  was  getting  sick  of  Jasper's  lame  jokes  and  ways  of  passing  time  in  my  left  ear.  When  I  was  a  certified  field  agent,  it  just  so  happened  that  Jasper  was  assigned  to  be  one  of  my  partners.  Part  of  me  sometimes  wished  I  didn't  have  to  wear  my  earpiece  at  all  times.  That  was  only  if  the  operator  found  new  information  about  our  target's  location.  I  would  always  have  to  be  alert.

We  didn't  have  a  tracking  device  on  the  girl  yet.  But  Jasper  could  seamlessly  hack  into  security  camera  systems  anywhere,  and  keep  visual  tabs  on  her  as  well  as  what  she  was  doing  if  I  weren't  there  to  see  it.  Anywhere  else  that  didn't  seem  to  have  security  cameras,  Jasper  was  still  able  to  see  everything.  Don't  ask  me  how,  because  I  don't  know  either.  It's  an  operator  thing.

With  any  mission  or  operation,  the  same  procedure  goes:  first,  I  have  to  observe  and  note  the  places  our  target  visits  most.  This  process  usually  took  weeks,  depending  how  much  of  a  busy  schedule  the  target  has.    Figuring  out  their  clockwork  patterns  makes  everything  easier.

When  I  glanced  up,  I  found  the  person  we  had  been  searching  for.

Bingo.

Dakota  Ashton  was  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  building,  looking  bored  and  gazing  elsewhere.  But  I  got  a  clear  view  on  her  profile  from  where  I  sat.  For  a  female,  she  was  surprisingly  tall  by  being  five  foot  eight  inches.  At  least  she  was  easier  to  spot  that  way.  Short,  asymmetric  black  hair  with  dark  red  undertones  framed  her  face.  She  wore  glasses  that  were  identical  to  Jasper's,  and  there  were  multiple  piercings  on  both  of  her  ears.  This  girl  was  an  obvious  fan  of  punkish  fashion.

"Jasper?  Hack  into  the  camera  system.  We've  got  our  girl."



K O D Y

I  was  leaning  against  a  brick  wall  outside,  with  my  arms  folded  and  my  backpack  slung  on  one  shoulder.  The  last  period  of  the  school  day  just  ended  a  few  minutes  ago.  

I  watched  some  students  walk  in  cliques  or  alone,  and  they  were  either  getting  rides  home,  walking,  or  going  to  their  extracurricular  activities.  I'm  extremely  tired  of  this  repetitive  routine:  I  wake  up,  go  to  school  and  barely  learn  shit,  go  home  and  eat,  then  sleep.  Repeat.

"Hey,  Ko."  I  heard  the  voice  beside  me,  and  turned  to  see  Ryan  Page  with  his  elbow  on  my  shoulder.  That's  my  boyfriend—one  of  the  small  number  of  people  who  help  me  get  through  the  day.  "You  look  pouty.  It's  cute."

I  grinned.  "Don't  you  always  say  that?"

"Yeah,  but  it  can't  hurt  to  let  you  know.  Anyway,  what's  wrong?"

"Oh,  the  usual,"  I  replied.  "School."  My  train  of  thought  abruptly  stopped  for  a  moment.  He  looked  at  me  with  questioning  eyes,  yet  I  didn't  answer  him  right  away  he  asked  what  was  wrong.  My  ears  rang  softly.

Something’s  not  right.

I  looked  around,  revolved  in  a  slow  circle  to  see  who  caught  my  attention.  No  one  appeared  to  be  watching  me.  "Kody?"  I  faced  Ryan,  who  was  only  a  little  taller  than  me;  my  forehead  could  touch  his  nose.  

"Sorry.  Just  had  a  weird  feeling . . .  Are  you  doing  something  later  today?  It's  a  Friday,  and  I've  got  nothing  planned."

"Actually,  I  do."  He  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head,  a  gesture  he  often  did  with  an  apologetic  look  to  his  face.  And  it  was  cute.  I  wouldn't  tell  my  own  boyfriend  that  though,  since  he  was  already  a  little  conceited.

"My  mom's  telling  me  to  come  straight  home.  We're  going  to  Bello  for  a  family  dinner,  but  she  wants  to  beat  the  rush,"  he  explained.

Ryan  already  got  his  driver's  permit,  and  the  vehicle  he  inherited  from  his  uncle  wasn't  the  best.  The  Chevy  has  seen  better  days  through  the  years  it's  been  used.  But  at  least  it  was  kind  of  reliable.

"Italian?  Save  me  some  leftovers—I  love  their  food."

He  smiled.  "No  promises.  You  know  how  big  my  family  is.  See  you  later,  Ko."  Ryan  gave  me  a  chaste  kiss  on  the  mouth  and  was  about  to  get  to  his  car  until  he  did  a  double  take.

"Wait.  You've  got  candy-flavored  lip  balm  again."  He  got  close  to  my  face  for  another  kiss,  but  I  stopped  him  with  my  left  palm  to  his  forehead.

"Nope.  Not  unless  you  give  me  leftovers  tomorrow."  I'm  not  exactly  a  huge  fan  of  PDA.  I  would  fake  gag  when  I  saw  others  having  make-out  sessions  in  public,  so  now  that  I'm  in  a  romantic  relationship,  I  keep  myself  from  being  a  hypocrite.

Holding  hands  is  pretty  much  the  only  thing  I  can  accept  when  Ryan  and  I  are  around  other  people,  along  with  pecks  on  the  cheek  or  something.  He  was  okay  with  that.

"I'll  try  to  snatch  some  food  for  you."

"Cool.  Now  go,  before  your  mom  blows  a  fuse."  He  nodded,  and  as  he  drove  away  in  his  beat-up  Chevy,  I  was  left  smiling  to  myself.  Then  I  started  walking  home.



A L E C

I  followed  the  girl  at  a  safe  distance,  letting  her  lead  me  to  her  next  stop.  I  assumed  the  place  would  be  her  house.  While  I  slowly  drove  up  the  sidewalk,  I  easily  noticed  how  rough  the  neighborhood  around  me  looked.

The  road  was  infested  with  potholes,  and  there  were  weeds  growing  in  between  the  broken  fragments  of  the  concrete  sidewalk.  Poorly-constructed  buildings  were  either  dark  and  grim,  or  neglected  to  the  point  where  they  were  on  the  brink  of  crumbling  down.  Sometimes  it  was  both.  The  place  was  almost  entirely  vacant.

There  was  a  detail  in  Dakota's  file  that  informed  her  family  was  financially  struggling.  They  were  drowning  in  debt.  I  couldn't  help  but  feel  bad  for  the  girl.

I've  been  fortunate  enough  never  to  have  experienced  what  it  was  like  growing  up  like  that.  My  parents  were  adequately  wealthy,  so  you  could  say  I  had  a  lucky  break.  Private  schooling,  nice  colleges,  opportunities  most  people  wouldn't  get—things  of  that  sort.  But  my  family  wasn't  perfect,  no  matter  how  much  money  we  had.

I  saw  Dakota  walk  up  to  a  porch  and  open  the  front  door  with  a  key.  Then  she  stepped  inside.  I  took  note  of  her  address  and  the  street  I  was  currently  on.

"Jasper,  she  lives  on  Chamberlain  Drive,  fifty  six  forty  three."

He  echoed  my  words,  probably  typing  down  that  information.  "Okay.  Got  it.  Wow,  that  whole  neighborhood  is  a  dump."

I  scratched  my  chin,  silently  agreeing  though  I  wouldn't  have  said  it  in  those  exact  words.  "Where's  the  nearest  cafe?  I  could  use  some  coffee."

"Lemme  check . . ."  Jasper  was  quiet  for  only  a  moment  until  he  replied,  "There's  one  called  Mist  Haven.  On  Rowe  Avenue."

"How  do  I  get  there?"  I've  lived  in  this  large  town  for  a  long  time,  but  I  wasn't  familiar  with  this  particular  place.  I  was  much  more  accustomed  to  the . . . less  suspicious  areas  that  were  always  busy.

"Back  out  of  the  street  you're  on  now,  then  take  a  left.  I'll  be  your  GPS."

"Cool.  A  living  GPS  with  a  thousand  bad  puns  to  share."

"Don't  forget  to  mention  he  has  a  devilishly  handsome  face  and  personality,"  he  said.  I  shook  my  head  to  myself,  wondering  how  I  became  friends  with  someone  like  him.  I  put  my  car  into  reverse,  got  into  someone's  driveway,  then  drove  away.