Page 53 of Code Name: Michelangelo

“The rest is history, as they say.”

Flick shook her head. “Not even close. Fast forward several years. What’s between you now? Are you lovers?”

“We were. Now, no.”

“Interesting,” she mumbled.

“In what way?”

She shook her head. “So, why not now?”

“Nope. Not answering you until you answer me.”

Flick laughed at my response. “Very well.”

I remained silent, hoping she’d elaborate. Just when I’d decided she didn’t intend to, she spoke.

“The two of you are clearly in love. There’s danger in that, as I’m sure you know. Not that it isn’t commonplace among our set. In fact, there are few outside of the intelligence business who can fathom the lives we live.”

“That’s true for Brand, err, Michelangelo, and me. Except it has nothing to do with intelligence. Just our backgrounds. How fucked up our parents are. Boarding school life.”

“Understood.”

She stood in one fluid and graceful motion, then held her hand out to help me get up. I’d say do the same, but there was nothing fluid or graceful about the way I did it.

“Come on. I still wondered what that meant, until I spent the next few hours staring at a computer screen, monitoring situations I wasn’t sure were real or simulated from around the world, I wondered if there was any aspect of this job I was suited for. Clearly, I was out of shape physically. And worse was my attention span for the things Flick was teaching me.

“They make it look far more interesting in the movies,” she commented when I yawned for the second time in minutes. “The next few days will be better, I promise.”

“What are we doing?”

“The stuff that is as interesting in real life as it is in movies.”

Not only was Flick right, but by the end of day five, I’d discovered the parts of intelligence work I might actually be good at.

I was a crack shot when it came to firearms of all kinds, all five of my sky-diving jumps were successful, and I excelled at the simulations, both on the computer and during live action for bumps, dead drops, and recruitment. I was also proficient at things like escape and evasion techniques and survival training once I’d put what I learned after the kidnapping into practice.

I couldn’t help but wonder how big a role knowing I wasn’t truly in danger played. Would I be as sure of myself when attempting to convert a target or doing drops if I knew real bullets were used for the shots that might be fired at me?

Flick made it clear I would never face the kind of danger “real” agents would. Not that she put it that way. There were varying levels of risk based on different levels of skill was how she’d phrased it.

The hardest part for me would come the day after tomorrow, when I’d go through captivity training. While I’d been “educated” in what to do if I was ever abducted again after the kidnapping, I knew as well as anyone that I needed to develop far more skill in that area. As Flick had pointed out, especially given if Brand or I were discovered to be undercover, the outcome would either be being held prisoner or killed.

Flick said she had a meeting to attend and that I could return to our quarters. I was on my way when I heard someone call my name. I turned and shielded my eyes from the sun, but I recognized Kade Butler’s voice without seeing him.

When close enough, he put his hand on my shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“I understand why this is typically a six-month program. I feel like I’m about to get on the autobahn after only completing an hour’s worth of driver’s education.”

He smiled. “An excellent way of putting it, and you’re right. What you’re receiving is an overview, and a brief one at that.”

He motioned to a picnic table under a tree, and we took a seat.

“Are you here to check up on us?” I asked after we’d sat in silence for several minutes.

“Sundance asked me here. He and Flick suggested the five of us should meet.”

“I suck, don’t I?” I blurted, momentarily forgetting Kade was more than the father of one of my best friends.

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