Page 3 of Knight Moves

“Of course. You’re under eighteen, so it’s up to you to convince her. Keep in mind, she will not know it’s called UTOP. It’s referred to as the George Washington National Training Academy in the official paperwork.”

“Where’s the campus located?”

“About a two-hour drive from here in central Virginia.” He didn’t offer any further details, and I realized that was all I was going to get for now. At the very least, it meant my mom could visit occasionally. I knew that would be important to her.

“There’s something else you need to know, Angel. It’s not as simple as being invited to UTOP and being automatically accepted. You have to pass the trials…or go home.”

My bubble of excitement abruptly deflated. “Trials? What kind of trials?”

He nudged me forward, so we started walking again. “The government selects students who have important skills we need in the operative field. Those students who pass must show certain physical, psychological, and emotional skills to continue their training. I’ll be honest with you, we invite a very small and select number of students to try out for UTOP. You’ll undergo a series of trials for four weeks, most of which are highly challenging on different levels. Unfortunately, only a few of those selected to try out are able to make it through all the trials successfully.”

“Wait. Are you saying I could flunk out because I can’t do a pull-up?”

Slash chuckled. “I assure you, no one is flunked for not being able to do a pull-up. Scores are cumulative and derived from multiple sources. There are physical challenges, yes, but this is not a fitness test. It’s testing your specific capabilities and skills in numerous areas in the field. But it’s also testing the way your mind works, how you process information, and how you handle yourself in stressful and dangerous situations. Also, you don’t flunk. It’s just determined that you don’t have the necessary skills required for an operative. It certainly doesn’t mean you can’t ever work for the government or an intelligence agency. In fact, most students who don’t make it through the trials are given special handlers across the agencies. They go on to secure degrees at regular universities and come back to us later. In fact, the last time I looked, ninety-six percent of students who went through the UTOP trials and didn’t make it still returned to work with one of the agencies. That’s an extraordinarily high percentage.”

“But not as an operative.”

“No.” He paused for a beat. “Not as an operative.”

I stopped, crossed my arms against my chest, and studied him intently. “You actually think I have a shot? Me? A geeky girl with the upper-body strength of an infant?”

Slash’s expression softened a bit as if he were remembering something. It occurred to me he might be thinking of Lexi, and maybe she’d once felt the way I did. “This isn’t boot camp, Angel. Regardless, I won’t lie to you. It will be challenging and test you to your limits. All your limits. But, yes, I think you have what it takes to make it as an operative or I wouldn’t have recommended you.”

That knocked me back for a second. “Youpersonallyrecommended me?”

“I did.”

So many thoughts ran through my head, most of them screaming in excitement that one of the world’s best wizards behind the keyboard thought I had what it took to be a spy. “And, if I don’t pass, I just come back to Excalibur?”

“Yes, at the four-week point. They will tell you then whether you made it or not. If you don’t make it, you simply tell your mother it didn’t work out. You cannot, however, tell her the details of the trials. That must remain classified.”

“They can tell in four weeks whether I’m spy material or not?”

“They can. Sometimes even sooner.”

I blew out a breath. “Wow. This is a lot to think about.”

“Yes, it is.” He slid a hand into his leather jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. “Here is the information and the registration packet for you and your mother to review. You have one week to let me know your decision. After that, the slot goes to someone else.”

I swallowed hard. “Am I able to talk to Wally and Frankie about this?”

“You may, but you must be in a secure location before you discuss anything about it, and nothing can be exchanged electronically. We’ll know. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Oh, I knew what he meant, all right. The NSA would be watching me. Then it occurred to me that maybe they already were. Perhaps the brown sedan was from the agency, and all of this cloak-and-dagger stuff was part of the deal. It was odd, but I figured that was likely the life of a spy.

A mystery inside a puzzle.

I looked over his shoulder at the rest of the park. Some guy was throwing a Frisbee to his dog, while the young mother had given up on the ducks and was pushing her stroller toward the far side of the pond. It seemed so normal—just an average day in America. People going on about their lives, not having a clue that a short, freckled, redheaded teenager was being recruited by the US government to be a spy.

“I understand, Slash,” I said. And I did.

I had one week to make the decision of my life.

Chapter Three

ANGEL SINCLAIR

Slash dropped me off at our apartment complex since I’d missed the bus. I clutched the manila envelope in my hand so tightly I crushed one corner. To my surprise, my older sister, Gwen, was sitting at the dining room table working on a laptop when I walked into the apartment. Her presence was surprising because she usually spent most of her free time with her boyfriend, who lived in Jessup, Maryland. She didn’t typically drop in on Mom and me during the week unless something was up.

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