Footsteps to Follow by Charlie

FOOTSTEPS TO

FOLLOW

FOOTSTEPS

TO

FOLLOW

WRITTEN BY

CHARLIE SKÅNBERG

COVER ILLUSTRATION BY

GRACE COFFEE

Dedicated to

617 Westridge Lane

Prologue

Dear Reader,

Between the cardboard covers of this book is the story

that shaped my life in its entirety. Perhaps you could call

it a brief synopsis of the last 3 months, but in this case,

the whole is bigger than the sum of its parts. It’s really

much more than that.

hen I was just a child, but then again, no one really

When you join MI5, I guess you come to the

ion that your life is an exception. I guess that no one

normal life would ever experience many of the

described in this book. Normal is a funny word

It implies that nothing out of the ordinary happens

but then that begs the question: What is ordinary?

is the perfect example of why perhaps the words

and ordinary should not exist.

ly,

Chrysanthemum Shrubert

Part One

One

V E R

Chrysanthemum Shrubert is my

name. Yes, you were probably not expecting

m a CIA field agent. But then again, there are

few details you will find out about me that

unexpected.

orning I awoke to the clattering sound of my

or’s noisy cooking, and the never ending buzz

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alarm clock. As usual, 5:30 am appeared on the

clock’s circular face. I began my morning like every

morning. I changed out of my footie pajamas, which

I wear every night to sleep, put on my nicest 3 piece

suit, and combed my hair. After that, I headed down

the hallway from my bedroom, past the toilet, and

into the kitchen, where I contemplated which tea I

would be savoring this fine morning. I am a tea

sommelier, which means I know how to identify

different types of tea, I taste and brew using only the

proper techniques, and, of course, I have a deep

understanding of tea and food pairings.

As I opened the cabinet where I store my finest

collections of tea, I checked to make sure all the

canisters were properly organized in alphabetical

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ults please me. Never once has this cabinet

isturbed of its very well organized display,

t’s why, when I saw the mint tea from my trip

rakesh, Morocco next to the Cinnamon tea

y recent visit to Punjab, India, I knew today

going to be a normal day.

Two

T H E R E is an old folktale about an abandoned

house on the cliffs of Clovelly, a town located on the

south western coast of England. A family lived in the

old stone house that consisted of a mother, father,

and son. One night the child was awoken by his

parents, who told him they would have to leave.

They did not say why, just that they had to go, and

fast. That cold, rainy night, they boarded a small

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vate airport in London.

mily resettled in London, where the child

p. Years later the young man still did not

why his family had to leave their home that

but he knew that, when he came home from

ity one autumn afternoon to find that his

had gone missing, their escape had

ing to do with it. Who was that child you

e wondering? That child…was me.

rents were both a part of MI5 during my

od. I knew their work had something to do

hy we had to leave so suddenly. I never

a secret agent because I wanted to. I became

t because I had to.

Three

A S

I rearranged my tea cupboard and tried to

ignore the odd events of the morning, the kettle

began to shriek. I picked it up, and as I began to pour

the steaming water into one of my favorite antique

tea cups, my hand slipped, and the kettle shattered

on the kitchen floor. Tiny pieces of china scattered

across the wood. Exasperated, I bent down to clean

up the pieces when something caught my eye. A slip

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on the corner, trying to remove it from the

sturdy grasp without ripping it. The paper

ded neatly in a rectangular shape. I unfolded

aling a handwritten phone number.

37-6775-3289

back to my mother dialing our grandfather’s

number came to my mind as soon as I saw the

digits. +44 is the country code for England.

r flashback to my young fingers slowly

g the circular face of the rotary phone in my

m -1237 was the area code of Clovelly.

ever this phone number belonged to was from

dhood town.

to the landline attached to the kitchen wall. I dialed

the number, and waited as the phone buzzed against

my

ear.

“Brrrrrrriiiinnnngggg…

Brrrrrrriiiinnnngggg…Brrrrrrriiiinnnngggg…”

Finally, someone answered the phone.

“Hello?” I asked, nervous about who might be on the

other end of the line.

“Hello?” A scraggly voice responded; he sounded

elderly, and clearly British.

“Who is this?”

“Henry D. Shrubert. And who might you be?”

I could say anymore, the phone hung up, and

g filled the silence.

Four

T H E morning sky began to darken with heavy

clouds, and the pitter patter of rain slowly descended

the glass window panes in the kitchen. I scurried to

collect a few items, and neatly placed them into a

suitcase. The honk of a car startled me as I zipped up

the bag. I turned to look out the window; the taxi sat

waiting at the curb. I ran down the hallway, and out

the door. Opening the back seat door, I hopped

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, not much older than myself, sat in the

seat. One hand was on the wheel, the other

g through songs on the radio. Finally he was

d, and returned his other hand on the wheel.

r began to slow, and I looked outside the

w to see where we were: The British

ate, an intimidating skyscraper of glass,

g into a pyramid stood before my eyes. I had

who worked there, and I thought maybe she

elp me track down the phone number a little

recisely. As I exited the car, the driver in the

eat rolled down the window, allowing me to

im his payment. I reached for my wallet,

out 2 green bills, and placed them in his

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Erin Gonzalez was the Deputy Head of

Communications, and a good friend of mine from

London. She moved there around the same time I did

when I was a child, and we have been friends ever

since.

As I entered the large double doors of the building, I

looked around. The room was like a large office with

multiple desks scattered throughout.

Erin was not in a position that would enable her to

track down the phone number on her own. But

luckily, we had another way in.

Erin and I were both in training for MI5 in our early

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ggest competitor. After my parents went

, Erin wanted to find them just as badly as I

a young teen, her parents passed away, and

ents were the closest thing she had to family.

months after their disappearance, we found

ere was an interaction between MI5 and the

ausing us both to go undercover as double

The plan was that I would join the CIA for 2

o research them, and return to London, in

of bringing back some information on their

operations, and Erin would join the Consulate

ame goal of retrieving some form of a clue.

ar had passed, and this was just the evidence

ded.

Five

I looked around in search of a receptionist that could

help me locate Erin. A woman with a short red bob

and freckle splattered face was seated in a tall black

office chair at a desk near the entrance. A pair of red

Gold and Wood glasses sat on her nose as she gazed

at some paperwork; I walked over to her.

“Excuse me? Do you know where I could find Erica

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we were both given new identities.

might you be?” The woman asked.

y Miller.” I gave her my assigned name, of

It’s the only one I use in public.

u have an appointment?”

I replied as confidently as possible.

y Miller, Miller…” The woman muttered as

olled through a list on her computer. “No.

You are not on the list.”

ery important,” I pleaded. The woman gave

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dialed a few numbers, then paused until there was a

small click on the other end of the line.

“Yes. Is Erica Wolf available?” The woman paused

again. “Thank you…” Pause. “Erica, there is a man

here…Jeremy Miller. He claims he has an

appointment, but he is not on the list. Should I send

him up?” Pause. “Yes…Ok…Will do…bye.” With

that, the woman took the phone from her ear, and

placed it back in its cradle. “She will see you now.

Go down the hall, to your right, down another hall,

make two lefts, and then take the elevator to the 5th

floor. Suite 6A.”

“Thank you very much.” I replied as I began to walk

away.

office. A tall elm door with a plaque that read

6A stood at the end of the hallway. I

ched it, then, before I could knock, the door

open, and an angry woman marched out. I

for her to exit, then slid into the room and

he door behind me. “Oliver!” Erin exclaimed

t down in one of the leather office chairs.

have you been?”

ne. You know, just the usual. And how have

en?”

ust terrific. I just had a wonderful meeting

ne of my colleagues…Anyway, what brings

he consulate?”

slip of paper under my kitchen table, and on it was a

phone number leading back to Clovelly. I called the

number, and it was my father who answered-”

“What? Your father? But we have not been able to

track him down for years!”

“I know. That’s why I need you to pinpoint the

location of the cell tower that received the call.”

“I see. Do you happen to have the phone number

with you?” I pulled the slip of paper out of my

pocket and slid it across the desk. “Do you have any

idea how it could have gotten there?”

“No, it is all a mystery to me. In all honesty, it’s been

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amined the paper further.

s not just a normal piece of paper.” With 2

firmly holding the face of the note, and her

finger nails grasping the back, she was able

her unfold the note. “This is the back of a

for a furniture company. And this is not just a

number, it is the item number for a kitchen

Six

T H E familiar city lights of London illuminated the

sky as the bus came to a halt. The two double doors

swung open, and I stepped down to the curb,

followed by Erin. Clutching small suitcases in both

of our hands, we approached the private airport. It

was the same airport I had arrived in that cold rainy

night so many years ago.

ate, it took her only minutes to track it down.

ced it to the solitary cell tower in close

ity to 762 Lighthouse Lane, my childhood

. Erin put a tracker on the phone number

we left for the airport. The phone call had

en a few hours ago, and it appeared that the

one was still in the same location it had been

n I received the call.

all puddle jumper finally landed 45 minutes

n the tiny beach below the cliff. Déja vu

my mind as the pilot guided us up the cliff

he house. It was a strange feeling landing on

ach, almost like I was reliving my childhood

y, only this time in reverse.

which had been torn off the hinges. The old welcome

mat was now rotted, and turned to mush. I cautiously

stepped over it as I entered the threshold into the

vestibule.

On the left was a doorway which led to the kitchen; I

peered inside. Old grocery bags waiting to be

unpacked sat next to the sink. Food and kitchen

supplies scattered the green tiled floor. The cabinet

doors were wide open, with cans knocked over and

falling out. I entered the room further, and opened

the refrigerator’s plastic white door. Old, rotting

food was neatly placed on shelves, as if no one had

ever left.

I looked around. Erin stood in the other room,

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to be opened. Bills and advertisements were

led tightly in their thin blue and white paper

pes. Erin ripped one open, throwing the paper

dining table. 1966 was the invoice date; that

same year my family had left…

ered the living room. The sofa had been

d with a flowery sheet, and unlike all of the

ooms we had just been in, was clean and

ntact, as well as mostly empty except for a

okshelves and fireplace cleaning supplies.

amy white rug was stained with animal scat

ark red substance.

d up at a single light bulb that loomed from a

the wood ceiling. Erin stood on the sofa, and

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“It’s warm,” she said, then a loud car engine started,

and we both dashed for the door. But all that was left

was a large cloud of dust.

Seven

E cloud of dust began to fade as we dashed

e car. Tire marks swerved on the dirt road as

d to keep up. It almost made it to the corner

time we had gotten outside. Through the

saw the car come to a halt, but then swerve

ield, and disappear down a hill, compressing

ss in its wake. Erin stopped running, and I

eside her, trying to catch my breath. She bent

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dirt under one of the tire marks. She pulled on it,

revealing a black and white photograph of a man and

woman. Erin handed it to me, and I turned it over.

Clementine Ojo + Benjamin Taylor

+44 0208-568-3321

“Why would my father have this?” I asked, trying to

search my brain for these unfamiliar names and

faces.

“Maybe they know something your parents didn’t

want anyone to know?”

“But wouldn’t they have taken it the night we left?

Why would they leave it behind?”

hey probably have some answers that could

find your family.”

d I walked for a while until we reached the

town. Bug Creek was carved in big bold

on a tree stump.

int village surrounded by endless hills

d before our eyes. The main road stretched

the horizon, branching out behind buildings

walked. Small shops and houses perched

on sidewalks. The sound of a bell rang in the

ound as children exited a small brick building,

oded the streets on bikes, their laughter filling

ol spring breeze. It was nothing like New

It was nothing like the England I could

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For the time we lived in Clovelly, I was never

allowed to wander beyond the confines of our

backyard. A large barbed wire fence divided our

property from the outside world. Only my

imagination left the fenced area; I knew not to. I was

homeschooled, and not until we moved to London

did I get to attend school with other children my age.

As we walked through the town, I continued to

marvel over the world I had never been exposed to, a

world that lay right outside my home.

An old red telephone booth sat next to one of the

many shops. I walked over to it and Erin followed.

Turning its metal handle, I noticed a thick layer of

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in quite some time. I pulled harder, still, the

id not budge. Finally, on the fourth try, it

. The rust began to crack, and the door swung

We stepped inside; the room was small, but we

d to fit.

ialed the number, and held the receiver

n us so we could both listen. The phone rang

minute, then a small elderly voice answered.

” The voice said. “Who is this?”

Wolf speaking. Is this Clementine Ojo?” The

on the other end paused, then smoothly

ed.

nd what may I help you with?”

pressure in your area, has yours been low today?”

“No. As a matter of fact, it has been quite strong.”

Clementine seemed to sense that something was off

about the conversation, but continued to follow

along. “Is that all?”

“I was also wondering if you like hedgehogs. Did

you know hedgehogs are lactose intolerant?”

“I did not know that about hedgehogs, but will be

sure to remember it. Now, I really must go, but it

was nice speaking to you, Erica.” With that, she

hung up, and the phone began to fill the silence with

its usual buzz.

n its cradle. “Hedgehogs? Really? How on

oes that help us? We had one phone call, and

sted it on hedgehogs?” Frustration filled my

s I struggled to figure out why someone as

s Erin would do something as stupid as that.

ax, Oliver. While we were talking, I plugged

ble tracking device into the phone, so we

race her location, and see where Clementine

out seeming suspicious. The tracker takes a

to pinpoint the location, and I needed to stall

it would have enough time to download all

rmation we needed.” I struggled to figure out

hat conversation was not suspicious, but

to let it go. Erin then removed a small chip

e bottom of the phone, and placed it in her

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probably leave, as we have no time to waste. We are

going to Washington D.C.”

Eight

opped in a taxi and arrived at the airport in

n an hour. Erin got our boarding passes, and

we knew it, we were in front of gate 17A. I

wn in one of the metal barred seats that

ed to 3 more in a row. Our group was called,

boarded, as the echoing sound of suitcase

bounced along the metal ramp into the

rectangular door frame. We were greeted by

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The plane was big. A long green and blue carpet

extended before us, lined with 35 rows of seats.

Each one was wrapped with a cushioned blue fabric,

and a red plaid built-in pillow. The plane was empty

except for a few passengers, and Erin and I took our

time making our way to the middle of the plane.

Seats B11 and B12.

As we began to get comfortable, other passengers

filed into the rows of seats, and the booming sound

of airplane chatter filled the small space. People

bumped into each other, babies cried, tiny dogs

barked in their travel crates, flight attendants

chatted with passengers, and suitcases banged into

the overhead bins as they were hurriedly stowed

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s is our estimated flying time. We hope you

njoy the 200 free movies on your

mentary in-flight television service this

on. Now, a few safety announcements while

pare for take off. I’m Janelle, and I’ll be your

oday. I hope you enjoy your flight to

gton D.C.”

an with short brown hair and a sleek black

ttendant uniform stood in the aisle before us.

ad was angled just enough so I could not see

e.

& Gentlemen! The safety instruction card is

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it. It shows you the equipment carried on this

aircraft for your safety.

A life jacket is in the pocket under your seat. To put

it on, place it over your head. Clip on the waistband

and pull it tight. Please do not inflate it while you

are still inside the aircraft. An evacuation slide and

life raft is at each door. Your crew will direct you to

your door. Additional emergency exits are shown on

the leaflet.

In case of emergency, oxygen masks will drop down

in front of you. Please pull the mask down toward

your face and place the mask over your mouth and

nose. If you are traveling with a child, please attend

to yourself first, then the child. Breathe normally,

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oman then turned to me and Erin, revealing

e. Her bright green eyes brought back too

memories. The woman smiled, then quickly

and walked down the aisle, disappearing into

ht deck.

around to face Erin, “We have to get out of

leanor is on board!”

Nine

“ W H E N I get out of this place, I am coming for

you Oliver,” Eleanor threatened, as the sound of

sirens echoed in the background. Those were the last

words I had heard from Eleanor, the last words

anyone had heard from her before she was hauled

off to a small jail cell in Feltham.

My childhood was complicated as you know, but

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to London, my parents divorced. My mum

a fellow named Jack Griffon, and they had a

amed…Eleanor. Yes, Eleanor is my sister.

chnically half-sister. For many years, Eleanor

best friend next to Erin. We were the closest

in all of London.

as never really in the picture while I was

g up. He was the head of a big corporation,

as always away on business trips. The

ny was called Annie’s, named after his sister,

y sold mac and cheese.

long after my parents went missing, Jack got

accident that unexpectedly took his life, and

and Eleanor on our own. I guess it had not

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since we left Clovelly, my life was twisting and

turning in all sorts of unexpected directions.

As a 21 year old man alone in London with his 9

year old sister, I had to take on a parental role.

Eleanor needed a role model to follow, and with no

mother or father, I had to step in.

13 years later, it all went bad. As a teenager, Eleanor

fell into the wrong crowd. She had been in contact

with international thieves, but she seemed unaware

of the danger she was in at the time. When I found

out, I did all I could to keep her safe, for if she made

a single wrong move, she herself could be implicated

in the crimes committed by her associates. I was

only trying to be a protective brother, but at a certain

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came first.

he knowingly been in cahoots with these

? I could not tell. But, after seeing the dangers

was going on, -I–I panicked… which led to

ding my sister off to prison for 5 years, for

ing I never fully understood. I regretted that

the rest of my life.

Ten

T H E R E was no way out, no way of escape. I

could hear the loud rolling of the wheels gently

leaving the concrete runway as we began takeoff. I

panicked, looking around for something that might

be able to get us out of the plane, but there was

nothing. We were trapped.

I turned once again towards Erin, she too had no

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se from my seat and made my way past the

passengers who sat obliviously watching

and checking their text messages. I finally

the back of the plane where I entered the

m. The room was minuscule, with the sink

g half of the toilet and the door jammed up

the mirror.

d out the photo of Clementine once again to

e it. Her long wavy brown hair hung down

g her dress. It seemed the photo had been

when she was a teenager. Her smile beamed,

sat next to Benjamin; hand in hand they sat.

in’s eyes hung closed; he must have blinked

he photographer pressed the shutter. A smile

on my face as I began to form a faint memory

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A large room, with a couch sitting in front of a

fireplace lined with stone. Father handed Clementine

an envelope, which she tucked in her bag while

nodding assuringly. I sat in my mother’s lap, my

small hand in her palm as the adults went on about

something. Benjamin stood up and walked away,

Clementine called after him…and the rest faded into

a murky haze. My smile drifted into a frown as I

came to the realization that this was my only

memory of these people. It was almost as if my mind

was trying to give me a clue.

I watched as the door handle turned, and then

twisted back as someone tried to open the door

thinking no one was inside. I flushed the toilet,

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ace. Then I turned on the water, and counted

ade my way back to my seat, I tried to be

s an old man had fallen asleep in the seat

mine. “You ok?” Erin asked as she looked up

er book. “Oh yes, just using the restroom.” I

and tucked the photo back in my pocket. A

oice then startled me.

ms you must have left this in the bathroom.” I

ound to see Eleanor standing before me. Her

red lipstick painted a perfect smile as she

down to hand me a small wallet bound in

ather. It was my wallet, but I could not seem

l leaving it anywhere. I had not removed it

my pocket in the restroom, and had been

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motioned to grab the wallet, as Eleanor stood

smiling. “Thank you…” I managed to say, then she

walked away.

Instinctively I scrambled to open it, trying to see if

maybe Eleanor had taken something, or perhaps left

something inside. Sure enough, a corner of a napkin

stuck out between the card pockets. I pulled on it,

revealing a small line of blue ink forming a sentence

on the napkin’s thin surface. The writing was

smudged, so it was hard to read but I managed to

decipher the print.

Orange eyes are dangerous. If you look into them

too deep, you might lose your way.

Part Two

Eleven

ge eyes are dangerous. If you look into them

too deep, you might lose your way.

~

s later…

E N we arrived in D.C, we had no idea where

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able to track her phone, and even after hours of

research, found no record of anyone named

Clementine Ojo or Benjamin Taylor. But, just when

it seemed logical to give up, we finally found a lead.

On the paper map of D.C. that I had snatched from

one of the train stations, we could see that there

were 2 streets located on the east wing of D.C., one

called Optische Frucht Drive, and the other called

Right Handed Tailor Way. Erin had pointed them

out to me earlier. I did not see anything special

about the names at first, but once she explained

them to me, it could never be clearer. Optische

Frucht was German for Optical fruit. Clementine

Ojo meant orange eyes. This connection could not

have been coincidental. Optic means eyes and

orange, well…it just means orange. We then moved

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Benjamin comes from the Hebrew root, Ben

which translates to “son of the right hand.”

lved the first part of the riddle. The second

s not hard to figure out, as it was the same

ciation but with different spelling.

ntine Ojo = Optische Frucht

min Taylor = Right Handed Tailor

at we had figured out the first part of all this,

e trying to figure out what these streets had

with each other, as they were located 5 miles

This led us to check the RFI map: Restricted

Intelligence. This resource is automatically

to CIA laptops with Level 3 clearance. The

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present and past records, and it showed that, while

these roads were far apart on the paper map, 20

years ago, when the streets were originally named,

these 2 streets intersected. We tracked down the

intersecting point which led us to our next clue.

Twelve

2:05 that afternoon, the taxi dropped us off

18th Street NW ended at Columbia Road,

on the RFI map, was the intersecting point of

Handed Tailor Way and Optische Frucht Dr.

t of us stood a tall blue and yellow house,

p against a row of more colorful homes; a

rick staircase led up to a short wooden door

metal s attached to a hook. The house was

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stood out at the same time. I walked up the stairs,

my hands gliding against the cold metal railing. I

knocked on the door, and then, waited…

I could hear footsteps creaking across a worn

wooden floor as a shadowed figure approached the

door, then a small click. The door opened slowly,

revealing a woman. She looked exactly like the

woman in the photograph except older.

“Agents Oliver and Erin, what a delight to see you.

We were alerted of your arrival in DC two weeks

ago. Please, come in, we need to talk.”

The woman ushered us in, leading us to a bash

couch by a small fireplace. She disappeared for a

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Piles of books and files were stacked on

urface. The whole room was a mess except

mall nook carved out for the couch. A half

pizza sat in its box under a mountain of

pers, and two computers were barely

d atop a jumble of clothing. She returned

manila envelope.

she said as she handed it to me. “This is an

w of what we have so far on the case. As

you called with the code word, I knew you

n your way, and sent Dante out to retrieve it

arter-” The woman began to go on, but Erin

off.

m, who exactly are you?” The woman looked

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the situation.

“I am Yael Barlow..."It seemed she was waiting for

us to figure something out, yet we had no clue what

was going on.

“Don’t you remember? It was only last month. You

called me from Clovelly. Ms.Gonzalez was talking

nonsense for the most part, but the one thing that

stood out to me was that you used the code word.”

I was confused. What was the code word? I was not

able to recall this happening.

“Clementine Ojo? You asked for Clementine Ojo.

Anyway, MI5 was surprised you had figured it out

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with the code word, Dante and I had been

ed to go to the CIO, the Central Information

and pick up anything we had on this case to

ady for you as soon as you arrived,” Yael

ed.“You both look like you need some rest.

on’t you lay down for a while, and then we

et up for dinner later. Perhaps 7:00? Fiola

On K Street NW.”

Thirteen

E R I N and I arrived at Fiola Mare at exactly 6:58

pm that evening. Yael and a tall, muscular man with

short wavy black hair sat next to her at our four

guest booth. I could only assume it was Dante.

“Well, shall we order first or…” Yael began, then

paused as the waiter approached.

your waiter today. Can I offer you any

ges to start?”

d at Erin, “Water’s fine.”

will be back momentarily. In the meantime, I

mend taking a look at the soup section of our

We have a new special: onion soup au gratin.

y popular.” Then Luca walked away. Yael

until she was sure he was out of earshot, then

ed.

ow that you have had time to look over the

Erin interrupted her, looking up from her

The appetizers alone are $152. Who is paying for all

of this?”

“Don’t worry. The head of our department has given

us a large sum of money to cover all expenses

related to the case.”

“Why would they do that?” Erin shot back, not

seeming to believe Yael’s quick cover. “Dinner is

technically not related to this case.”

“Why don’t you stop wasting your time questioning

my authority and show me what you have!” Yael

snapped. We all turned to her, shocked at what she

had just said. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just…We really

need this information. We have intel from Carter,

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AAA

nt me a message last week, and if we don’t

his soon, well…who knows what she has

d for me — for us.” she said, as her

hing gaze shifted steadily between me and

I began. “Erin and I saw my father briefly at

house in Clovelly. We had not actually seen

ut due to previous events, assumed that it

ave been him. In the case file, it stated that

time anyone had verifiably seen my father

security camera footage dated 3 weeks

we arrived in Clovelly, not far from here.

ood out to us was that he was with a woman,

we could not identify.”

“Yes. That’s it,” I lied. The truth was that we did

know who the woman was, but we could not tell

Yael, not just yet.

Fourteen

E R dinner, Dante helped us arrange a hotel

own the road so that we would be able to

p with them again in the morning. The room

aint but nice. Two twin beds sat pushed up

opposite walls, with a mini kitchen next to

d, and bathroom next to the other. I chose the

arest to the bathroom. The food from Fiola

as not sitting in my stomach well…

after brushing her teeth that night.

“Why do you say that?” I asked, my voice muffled

by the large bubbles of toothpaste still in my mouth.

“Organizations like MI5 don’t just give you money

to go out and have an expensive dinner. It just

doesn’t work like that. I mean, how do we even

know we can trust these people? We just met them,

and while they know a lot about us, we have no

such information about them. How do we even

know if Dante and Yael are their real names?!” Erin

exclaimed.

“You’re just being paranoid. Have you ever thought

that they just might be a couple of well-trained MI5

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AAA

hen how come we have never met them

” Erin seemed angry now, her eyes shining

ierce gaze.

now what? If you are so worried about all

hy don’t you just call Carter.” I was finished

rin’s attitude. I was determined to find my

, and she had to stop getting in the way.

e I will!” Erin picked up her phone, and

he number.

h waited as the phone rang. Erin turned it on

so we both could listen.

line.

“Yes. This is agent 5217.”

“Yes agent, how can I help you?”

“Can you please transfer me to Agent Carter?” Erin

asked, tapping her foot as she waited.

“I am sorry, but Carter is currently in a meeting. Is

there anything I can assist you with?”

“By any chance did the agency recently wire

$50,000 into Operation Shrubert’s funds and

services?” The voice paused, only the sound of faint

typing in the background.

ontinued typing. “Ah, here it is.” Another

“No, no money of that sort has been added to

ubert account.”

gaze immediately shot back at me in worry.

money had not been from the agency, then

d Yael acquired it? Was she working as a

agent? Had she stolen it? Was she

ndently wealthy? Or did Yael Barlow have

ing to do with my parents’ disappearance?

Fifteen

E R I N was born in Monsanto, Portugal, a small

fishing town located near the border of Spain. Erin

grew up with her mother, Carolina, and father,

Duarte. Their house was small, but as Erin

described it, “the most magical place she had ever

known.” Erin lived in Monsanto until she was 8

years old. After her parents had been assigned a

case in Florence, she had been sent to London so

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AAA

ndmother. When Erin’s parents passed away

unexpected attack, and her grandmother

ill and unable to care for her, Erin came to

h our family across the street.

as extremely smart and at the top of all her

but it seemed that she always kept to

When she turned 17, MI5 offered her a spot

r field team. Erin’s goal had always been to

Stanford, and eventually to become an

ysicist. But her dreams were quickly pushed

hen the invitation presented itself to become

nt. Erin was a natural born leader, and it

that after being recruited, a spark ignited in

t I had never seen before. Erin was all of a

more self-assured and took charge in any

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learned that you never knew who you could trust

after she sustained such inexplicable childhood

traumas. She learned that people would not always

do what they said they were going to do. I guess

betrayal had been a large part of Erin’s life. And

that’s why, when Yael Barlow had misspoken at

dinner that night, Erin had been right to be

suspicious.

Sixteen

N shifted her gaze back to the phone in her

“One last question. Have there been any

by the name of Yael Barlow or Dante Silva

n the Shrubert case?” A pause.

orry…no.” Erin’s eyes widened as she tried

verything together.

in thought. A buzzing sound filled the silence as the

other end of the phone hung up.

~

Erin and I got to work brainstorming what Yael and

Dante could be up to. If Yael had in fact been

behind my parents disappearance, she did a good

job hiding it. The only lead we had so far was the

mysterious money, and the security footage. Yes, the

woman with my father earlier that month had been

Yael. I had noticed it the day before when Yael got

up to get us tea. She often kept her hair down, but

this time it was in a bun lumped on the top of her

head. As she spun around, I caught a glimpse of the

small spherical tattoo on the back of her neck. It just

happened to be that the woman in the video, for a

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AAA

walked away from the camera. I had to

the footage to make sure I had seen it

but sure enough, it was a perfect match. I

let Erin know about my discovery yet that

t dinner, but thought that now would be a

time to tell her. I slipped a folder out of my

ck, and we got to work.

ors swung open with a loud crash as Erin and

ed the building where Yael and Dante had

aying. The house had been cleaned and the

hat had once been hanging by the door were

ger there. I ran into the kitchen, hastily

ng each room for a clue. Where had she

The beds were made, the carpets had been

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windows, an almost unnoticeable trace. A faint shoe

print about 43 degrees from the left corner of the

window, and another 90 degrees to the top right

corner of the window. “Erin!” I cried. “I know

where Yael went!” I could hear Erin dart up the

staircase and within seconds she was in the

bathroom beside me. “Look; don’t you see?” I

pointed to the shoe marks once again. Erin wasted

no time in finding out more. All of a sudden, she

began rummaging through bathroom drawers,

looking for something, but I couldn’t tell quite

what. When she couldn’t find what she was looking

for, Erin ripped off the spout of the sink, and then

returned to me at the bathtub.

“Step back,” she warned, the sink spout still in her

hand. With one powerful thrust, Erin stabbed the

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AAA

“Now come on,” Erin gestured for me to

and that’s when she jumped out the window.

Seventeen

N I G H T had fallen and although the window

was not too far from the ground, I could barely see

Erin as she descended. I climbed up to the window

sill, preparing to jump, with the wind blowing

through my hair. I felt like a superhero, until I

realized exactly what I was about to

do…“Ahhhhhhhh!!!” I yelped. I had, for a short

moment, forgotten that I was afraid of heights. My

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AAA

the wood as sweat dripped down the

w frame. All of a sudden, I did not feel so

ed to climb back down, but my foot got

on a shard of remaining glass, and I tumbled

ally out of the window, hitting a tree, and

anding in a line of garbage cans, which rolled

street. The rattle of the tin was not even the

part of the fall as I cried in pain (this was

e of my finest moments). I could hear Erin

o hush me, and at that moment my senses

d: I had just awoken an entire neighborhood.

see as the door to one of the neighboring

opened, and a man in a bathrobe stepped

seemed confused and looked around to see

all the noise came from.

worried about. We should probably call animal

control, this one seems like it’s in pain.”

The man took one last look, then returned inside. I

contemplated waiting around for the animal control

to see if maybe they could help me with all of my

new bumps and bruises, but Erin began to pull me

to my feet and drag me down the road.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as Erin

continued to drag me, my feet fumbling as I tried to

stand.

“Remember that coat that was hanging in the

bedroom closet?” Erin replied, sounding somewhat

distracted.

don’t you think it’s a little weird that Yael

behind a single jacket?”

r really thought about it.”

ed at the tag embroidered inside of the coat,

ere was the logo for the clothing brand,

. The name did not appear strange to me

noticed that there were other small items left

the house of the same brand. I tried to

r a clue as to what Yael could have been

o tell us. Sinoian starts with an S , and an S

ached to the metal hook on the front door…”

used, her eyes fixed on the concrete sidewalk

of us. “Do you understand what I am saying

” I tried to put the pieces of what Erin had

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in the right direction though, even if I had no idea

how she would.

Eighteen

e moon rose, our walk became a jog, then

to a run, and finally a sprint. I didn’t know

e were moving so fast, but following Erin’s

got the memo that time was of the essence.

rted through alleyways, and jumped over

until we arrived at an abandoned warehouse.

ame large

S

from the brand Erin had

ced earlier was painted across a tattered

d that appeared to be falling off the hinges

side of the building. “What does S

stand

asked, my voice shaky.

led me to the back door of the building, and we

slipped inside. A musty silence filled the air as we

headed through the darkness. Cracks in the

floorboards revealed a single source of electric

light, and led us down to the basement.

“Oliver?” a voice coming from a shadow in the

room called.

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it

was.

“Father!” I exclaimed and turned to hug the man.

His hair was ruffled and greasy. His shirt was torn

and charred. Tears welled up in my eyes, and ran

down my cheeks. Erin joined the hug too, and then

we all just stood there. Together. Like it used to be.

“I need to show you both something,” my father

said as he began to lead us down the shadowy

corridor and into another room. My mother, Yael,

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AAA

and files scattered across the surface, their

t in blue tones as their eyes scanned their

.

” I ran to embrace my mother for the first

over 20 years. She stood up from her chair,

ng her arms. Her hair still smelled the same

lways did, like cinnamon. I took in the

t all that I could until Yael interrupted.

o see you got my message, Erin. I trusted

ould. I wasn’t sure if you would remember

sit to the Washington Salmon Imports, but..

e are.”

is she talking about Erin?” I was confused

What did she mean by “remember the

ighed as she opened her mouth to

,“When I was 8, right after we moved to

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Salmon Imports warehouse. It was the main

warehouse where salmon was processed and

shipped across the country. I didn’t know why he

wanted to show it to me, but when I saw the two S ’s

on the items left in Yael’s bedroom, a memory

rushed to my mind from that day. ‘This is not only a

warehouse full of fish’ my father told me, ‘It’s a

safe house full of spies.’ I remember laughing at

what seemed to be a clever joke my father had

attempted in an effort to cheer me up on what was

shaping up to be another boring visit to one of his

offices.”

All the pieces seemed to align. I wondered why Erin

had never told me about her visit to Washington,

but, I guess there are a lot of things that I have yet

to learn.

Nineteen

is not the answer that enlightens, but the

question.”

- Eugene Jonesco

S quote I do rather enjoy. I often ponder over

hink, and as I think, I ask questions, and as I

hink some more. As we stood in the silent

n the warehouse, I began to think about the

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following my thought, I asked Yael, “Is it true you

and Dante are not actually part of MI5?” She

seemed skeptical about my question at first, but then

smiled warmly.

Before Yael could answer, another figure emerged

from the shadows. “Yes, it is true, Oliver. Your

parents and I are a part of another international

operative organization.” The voice was familiar, too

familiar.

“Eleanor? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, but why bore

ourselves with the details.” She smiled, raising her

face from the shadow. “I thought you knew I was

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AAA

nce with your father. I knew I had blown my

but luckily your paranoia of Yael saved me.”

mean it was you in the security footage?” I

red.

Each member of our organization has the

attoo on the back of their neck. I guess it’s

r fault you got me and Yael mixed up.”

t mean to interrupt, but we should probably

why we brought you both here.” Yael said,

me and Erin. “Your parents, me, Dante and

are all a part of a secret organization, which

mentioned a moment ago. Within the last

s, there has been a security breach that has

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more precise.”

“Who are the people after my parents?” My

stomach tightened as Yael got up from her chair.

“You must understand, Oliver, that your parents’

disappearance was carefully planned only in an

effort to protect you. Operation Firefly, as we called

it, was put in place just after you moved to London.

The night before you and your family had left

Clovelly, we had received communication–a threat,

to be precise– from an anonymous source

demanding a very high position in power in our

international operation. This power was not exactly

something we could just give away, of course. So

we did what we had to do to protect ourselves – and

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r to prevent the kidnapping that had been

ed by The System the next day in retaliation,

ought it better that you relocate to an

able location. Nothing too far, to throw them

k, but a place where we could keep an eye

family. After multiple years of keeping your

cation a secret, they-The System- found you.

up to face Yael,“Who is we ? Who are you ? ”

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