I glanced down at my wrist. It was almost seven, time for us to leave for the delegate's dinner party hosted by the Belgian Embassy.

"Dari, are you ready?" I called.

I pressed a subdued shade of red on my lips. It was never my preference to wear bright colors, but the Director told us we had to look our best any time we attended dinner parties. Apparently that meant heels, pink eyeshadows, mascara, blush, and lipstick.

I leaned back to look at myself in the mirror. Staring at myself as a thirty-five-year-old was once a strange occurrence.

Not any more.

I'd grown used to—perhaps even fond of—seeing the older me in the mirror. The once suffocating make-up had become part of my skin. The wrinkles and fledgling crow's feet at the corners of my eyes were a normal sight.

"I can't believe that it's our final evening here," I murmured to myself. Out of all my years, this was the craziest time of my life. I had learned more about the world in the past week than I had in the seventeen years that I had been fed data. I felt like I had grown into the thirty-five-year-old face staring at me in the mirror. When I turned eighteen, I could call myself a proper adult.

I knew that my present circumstances were ephemeral. Soon, we would have the real Agent X, and I would be sent back to my room. But for some reason, I didn't mind it.

"What did you say?" Dari yelled, jostling me from my thoughts.

I peered into the other room to find Dari in sweatpants and a t-shirt. She lifted her headphones off her head.

"Oh, I was just saying that the week has gone by very fast."

"Yeah." Dari set down her computer and stretched. She glanced down, and her eyes went wider than dollar coins. "Oh, wow, it's late. I better get ready."

She must have seen the clock in the corner of her computer.

She ducked into the second bathroom. I shook my head and carefully stepped into my silver heels and clipped on a pair of crystal earrings. The one part of this job that I couldn't get used to were the painful clip ons I had to wear, since Xara refused to get her ears pierced. I would never say this to her face, but I always wondered if it was because she was afraid of the needle piercing the most tender part of her ear.

I stepped out of the bathroom. The satiny fabric of my black jumpsuit shifted around my ankles. Dari rushed from the bathroom in a simple, maroon gown.

"That was fast," I said.

"Um, yeah. Why are you surprised?"

I shrugged. "Just commenting on it. We'd better go." I grabbed my black clutch from my bed.

"I'm ready," Dari said.

"Great, come on."

I walked across the hall and knocked on the guy's door. A hodge-podge of footsteps raced to the door. I stepped back to allow the three, suited agents to shuffle past us.

"Are you all ready?" I asked.

"Yes," they chorused.

"Did you forget anything?"

"No," Jax and Finn said.

I wrinkled my brow. "Ty? Are you forgetting something?"

Ty snapped his fingers. "Just give me one minute." He dashed back inside the hotel room.

I rolled my eyes. Good grief. What is it now?

Ty returned a moment later. He unfolded his palm to show two, gold-monogrammed cufflinks.

"Seriously?" Dari said, unamused. Her eyes shot daggers at him.

"Yup! Now we can go." We all gave him a 'look.' Ty grinned sheepishly, clipping the cufflinks onto his sleeves.

"Come on," I said, grabbing Dari and Ty by the wrists. "Agent X is not one to be late."

If I had a few extra arms, I would have pulled Finn and Jax along, too. Fortunately, they matched my quick pace.

We exited the hotel lobby to the street. Dusk had fallen, and the neon city lights shone in the darkened sky. A sleek, gray honda waited outside the hotel. Mr. Whincliff poked his head out of the passenger seat's window and waved us over.

"Come on, Mr. Whincliff is over here," I said. I took long strides to the car. According to my clock, we were five minutes late. How embarrassing!

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I apologized as we entered the car.

"No problem at all," Mr. Whincliff said. "We're right on schedule. I usually tell people an earlier time than I expect just in case they are running late."

"Smart idea," I said.

"Thank you."

There were two rows in the back of the car. Ty and I sat in the first row, while Dari, Finn, and Jax piled into the second.

"Are we all ready to go?" the chauffeur asked once we were situated.

"Yes," I answered for the group.

"Wonderful. Please put on your seatbelts and we'll be off." I watched to make sure that Ty actually fastened himself in place.

The chauffeur backed the car out of the parking space and began cruising down the street. Golden light illuminated the ancient architecture, reflecting on the ground as if the cement were a pool of water.

Our car pulled in front of a skyscraper, stretching high above the rest of the city. The shiny sides reflected hues of blue, pink, and purple.

"That's where the restaurant is?" I breathed.

"Yes, it takes up the top three floors. The rest is a hotel," Mr. Whincliff said.

"Why would they put the restaurant on the top floor?" Dari asked. "It's kind of a lot of stairs to walk up."

"Don't worry we can use an elevator," Whincliff chuckled. "As for why they would put a restaurant on the top floor, why wouldn't they? The view from above is incredible."

Dari shrugged. "I guess. It just seems excessive."

I stepped out of the vehicle. My eyes were glued to the top of the building. I could hardly wrap my head around such an architectural feat.

"Please return to pick us up at half past nine," Mr. Whincliff instructed the chauffeur.

"Certainly, sir." The car drove off into the night.

"Shall we enter?" Mr. Whincliff suggested.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. Perhaps I was a bit too eager in my reply, for the diplomat's eyes widened, though he quickly relaxed into a smile.

I walked up white-stone steps to reach a revolving door. I had always wanted to see how they worked. Excitement bubbled in my chest as I stepped inside the little compartment. If I had been all alone, I would have squealed with delight as the doors spun round, landing us inside the restaurant.

Mr. Whincliff strolled to the elevator like he had been here a thousand times and pressed the 'up' arrow.

"Which floor are we dining on?" I asked, trying to keep my voice perfectly even in spite of the anticipation coursing through my veins.

"Number fifteen," Mr. Whincliff said.

Dari frowned. "I thought that there were only fourteen floors?"

"There are. We're dining on a floor that doesn't exist." He winked at us.

According to the panel of buttons inside the elevator, Dari was correct. Mr. Whincliff pressed the fourteenth floor button, the highest number available. The doors opened to a dimly lit room filled with men in suits and women in gowns. Mr. Whincliff strode to the opposite corner of the room, where two security officers stood. He held up six tickets, and they stepped aside, revealing a secret passageway.

I stepped up the winding staircase, lifting the sides of my pants so they didn't catch under my heels. A gentle breeze began to tousle my hair.

My jaw went slack. At the very top, I stared out at the entire city of Belgium, enveloped in bright lights. The dark sky seemed so close, I could reach out and touch it.

"See?" Mr. Whincliff said. A satisfied grin stretched across his face.

"I should have dug deeper into this restaurant. I did not see this coming," Dari muttered in my ear.

"It's fine," I whispered back. "It doesn't really matter."

We were the last to arrive. All of the other diplomats had arrived and were talking with each other on the terraced balcony.

"Agents, you made it," a voice said. I turned around to see Miss Monpelie standing with her escort and Miss Omni.

"Yes, we did," I said.

"It's a shame that Mr. La Foie couldn't come," Miss Omni commented.

"Especially since the Belgian Embassy is hosting," Miss Monpelie added.

"At least the Prime Minister is here," Miss Omni said. "They need some sort of representation for their country. I wonder who's going to present at the upcoming convention."

I remained silent through their conversation. Naturally, I knew the reason for Mr. La Foie's absence. We hadn't been able to track down his location yet. We had notified the embassy of the problem, and they had been working nonstop to try to figure out a replacement for him. There was even talk of canceling the meeting, considering the unforeseeable situation. However, they also didn't want to cause alarm. Finding a replacement and saying that La Foie suddenly had family business to attend to was the best solution they came up with.

"Well, it was nice seeing you," Miss Monpelie said.

"You too," I said. The two ladies walked away just as Miss Checklovia approached, her black chiffon dress swishing around her ankles.

"Hello, Miss Oclen," she greeted. She wore no jewelry tonight, probably still unnerved by her bracelet robbery only a few days ago. Instead, she accessorized with a beautiful, red-rose corsage.

"What beautiful flowers!" I said.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Anton brought them for me. They were exactly what I needed to add a pop of color."

"Surely."

Anton, her escort, approached her, placing a glass of punch in her black-gloved hands.

"There you go my dear," he cooed.

"Thank you." She turned back to me. "Well, I hope to see you again soon."

As she and her beaux slowly strolled away, arm in arm, I couldn't help but feel mildly bothered by something. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but I knew that something wasn't quite right.

"Dinner is served," a stuffy waiter announced. Shoes clicked on stone as the guests made their way to the table.

I shoved my concerns from my mind and plastered a neutral expression on my face. I didn't want anyone to suspect anything.

I ascended a set of stairs to the long dining table, stretching the length of the rooftop. A navy-blue card stood in front of each blue-and-gray marbled plate, a name written in silver on each. I stopped at the place that spelled "Xara Oclen" in cursive letters. Dari and Ty took their seats on either side of me, while Finn and Jax sat across the table.

Mrs. Lopez and her husband sat next to Finn. While Ty was distracted from unwrapping his pure-white napkin, she winked at me. I rolled my eyes. She nodded in his direction.

I'm not the real Agent X.

Miss Checklovia slipped into her seat a few chairs away from where we sat. My eyes caught on her corsage again.

Red roses. It's a nice gesture. A symbol of love, I suppose.

The bustling guests began to settle in their seats.

Red roses. There shouldn't be anything wrong with that, right?

And yet there's something off about it...

Bells chimed, the brisk air sweeping the sound away.

Russia!

In Russia, red roses are associated with death. They are often seen at gravestones and funerals. So why would a Russian give a bouquet of red roses to Miss Checklovia? And why would she wear them?

I caught a glimpse of her in my peripheral. She smiled, displaying her perfect, white teeth.

Is there any way that there are two WAOIC agents?

There was no time for me to think. A parade of ten servers in blue uniform marched onto the rooftop in perfect succession. They each held a silver platter with a mirrored lid in his or her right hand, and a large, white napkin in the other.

My mind quickly calculated that there was one server for every five people at the table, which to me, seemed excessive. But that's the way things work at fancy restaurants.

The servers took up their posts around the table, each equidistant from the others. In perfect sync, the servers lifted the shiny, domed lids from the platters. The scent of seafood reached my nostrils. The servers delicately, but rapidly, placed a plate in front of each person at the table. I glanced at the menu to see what the first course was.

Lemon Stuffed Lobster Tails.

I looked back at my plate. Lemon, stuffed, and lobster appeared to be an accurate description of the first course, but 'tails,' plural, was not. In the center of the glossy plate was a single, small, lobster tail. With all that money, you'd think they could afford bigger portions.

Though don't get me wrong, it still was quite fancy. The shell was a bright red, and the top was covered in broiled cheese and panko breadcrumbs.

I dug my fork into the hollowed-out shell to collect a bite of all of the components. The melted cheese stretched as I pulled my fork out. The flavor was superb. I could taste the freshness of the lemon, the crunch of the panko, the salt of the cheese, the herbaceous parsley, the sweet and salty lobster, and of course, the richness from all of the butter they must have used.

"What do you think?" Ty asked, nudging me with his elbow.

"It's good," I said.

I was about to eat another bite when I saw Sofia looking at me again. I completely ignored her, as Agent X would have done.

As much as I enjoyed the food, I felt a sickening feeling in my stomach. Every so often, I would glance in Miss Checklovia's direction. She seemed normal, until my eyes fell on the red roses on her dress.

We were halfway through the third course, a savory pea panna cotta with lemon and crab, when I felt my wrist vibrate. My eyes fell on the glowing name. Director Rokmond. This must be important.

I set my fork down. "Excuse me for one moment," I said.

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Lopez said.

I held my head high and casually strolled out. I didn't want to portray any hurry, for surely that would clue them into my true motives for leaving.

I descended the steps to the next floor. I needed to find a restroom where I could read the Director's message without being spotted. My eyes zeroed in on the guards on the bottom of the staircase.

"Excuse me," I said. The two whipped around, ready to spring into action. Slowly, they relaxed when they realized it was just me.

"Oh, yes?" the female guard said.

"Where's the nearest restroom?"

She pointed around the corner. "Down that hallway to your right."

"Thank you." I walked around the corner and found the restroom where she had directed. With a quick scan of my surroundings to ensure that I wasn't followed, I ducked into the ladies' room.

I nearly choked on the artificially-sweet scent of perfume upon entering. I felt like I had stepped into Professor Nyryn and Professor Endal's lab back home. But as I recalled the smell, I realized that even the lab's smell was better than this.

I slipped into one of the stalls and locked the door. I turned my attention to my new message from the Director.

Yesterday evening, our Belgian cyber team intercepted a message to WAOIC headquarters coming from the hotel. We couldn't trace the device, but considering that we had already picked up the enemy agent, we can only assume that there is another WAOIC agent at the hotel. Keep your eyes open for anything else that may be suspicious.

The wheels of my brain started turning round. Everything started to fall into place.

Red roses.

Another WAOIC agent.

There were two enemy agents, or rather, three, if we counted Miss Checklovia's beaux. WAOIC had feared that we would discover one of their agents, so they sent two. They were hoping to get our guard down.

But I figured it out. At least, I was pretty sure that I had figured it out. I would have to confront the Russian representative after dinner.

I exited the restroom. I forced myself to walk at a normal pace through the halls, to act natural.

I walked back to the rooftop dinner party and slid into my seat. My fourth course was waiting for me, a cream of potato soup.

"You'd better try the soup before it gets cold," Ty said. "It's amazing."

I lifted a spoonful to my lips. It was very good. But my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't help but feel mildly annoyed with WAOIC. If they hadn't had two imposter agents, then I would have been able to sit back and enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime dinner.

After all of the food, our tenth course was set before us. I understood why the portions had been so small. I was thoroughly stuffed. But I could never have been too full to taste the chocolate mouse. It was light and airy, not dense like most chocolate. It was the perfect end to the dinner.

"I should've worn my sweatpants," Finn joked. "I think my stomach has expanded."

One last time, the servers came marching out and collected the plates. But this time, they were led by the head chef of the restaurant.

"Bon soir, ladies and gentlemen," the man in a white coat and tall chef's hat began.

"What did he say?" Dari whispered.

"Good evening," I said. The chef went into a long spiel about how honored he was to host the diplomat's party. But my focus was on Miss Checklovia. One false move, I was ready to pounce.

But of course, she wouldn't make a false move. She had been so smooth, so unassuming. I hadn't noticed her true colors.

Is this seriously the first time she messed up? Wouldn't the real Agent X have picked up on it sooner?

"Thank you for dining, and I hope you all have a beautiful evening," the chef finished. The crowd politely applauded his speech. Slowly, they rose from their seats and trickled down to the lower level of the rooftop.

"Are people leaving now?" I asked Mr. Whincliff. I was itching to get back to the hotel.

"Some are, but some are staying as well," he said.

My gaze fell on Miss Checklovia and her escort exiting the party. They were likely going back to the hotel.

I fake-yawned. "My, I am exhausted. I think I'd like to go back to the hotel." I looked at Ty. His brow furrowed as he looked at me. My eyes shifted to the exit, where the black dress of Miss Checklovia was disappearing down the steps.

"I'll take you home," he quickly offered.

Mrs. Lopez grinned. "Yes, you two go home."

My eyes turned to Jax. Finn and Dari could manage the party, but we may need Jax in case they decided to open fire on us.

Jax, fortunately, picked up the cue. "I'll join you."

Mrs. Lopez glowered at Jax. He quickly added, "I'll take a seperate cab."

Mrs. Lopez nodded reluctantly. The three of us hurried down the steps. We arrived down the steps just as the doors of the elevator containing the agents were closing. We power-walked to the second elevator. The doors opened for us instantly and we stepped in. I dialed the cab service.

"Hello, I need a cab ASAP, please. For the Lux Hotel in Brussels. Yes, thank you." I hung up the phone and faced Ty and Jax. "The cab will be here in a few minutes. Hopefully, Miss Checklovia will have to wait for her cab, too."

"What's this all about?" Ty questioned.

"We have two enemy agents, not one. Miss Checklovia is the second one."

"How do you know?"

"I'll explain later. Right now we have to focus on catching them. When we go outside, try not to draw attention to yourselves. We don't want them to realize who we are, or that we are following them."

The elevator doors opened on the ground floor. From the glass windows lining the sides of the lobby, I saw Miss Checklovia leaning against her escort's shoulder outside the hotel left of the front door."

"We need to stick to the right and try to blend in with the other people outside," I whispered.

"Don't worry, your black hair and jumpsuit will blend into the night," Ty said.

I frowned. "Be serious for once!"

A cluster of high-class diners posed for pictures in front of the hotel. I motioned for Ty and Jax to follow me around the group. They provided the perfect barrier between us and the WAOIC agents.

A waxed, black Toyota pulled up. Miss Checklovia and Anton ducked inside. Right as the car was pulling away, Miss Checklovia's eyes locked with mine. They narrowed ever so slightly. I gulped.

She knew.

"Uh oh," I muttered.

A taxi rolled to a stop in front of the entrance. My phone started ringing, the caller ID notifying me that it was the taxi service.

"That must be our taxi," I said. "Come on."

We hustled to get inside the cab. I could feel time passing at rapid speed. Each second wasted increased the chance of losing Miss Checklovia's tail.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked as we stepped inside.

"Follow that car," I said, pointing to the black Toyota, that was just pulling out of the drop-off circle in front of the restaurant.

The driver's head tilted to the side, like an innocently curious child. "Why?"

"They're friends of ours," I said calmly.

"Then why don't you ride with them?"

"We wouldn't fit," Ty blurted out. Now the man looked really confused.

"They're moving, and their car is full of stuff," I quickly made-up. "Now please follow them. We're staying with them tonight, and we don't know the directions to the place."

The taxi driver shrugged. "A euro's a euro."

He shifted the car into drive, but remained stationary. A car cut in front of us before we inched forward.

That was not a good sign. Finn could allow multiple cars to get in front of him, but I feared that a less experienced driver would lose sight of our target.

We crawled through the busy streets. My shoulders tensed. Why is he driving so darned slow? I felt like I was about to explode if he didn't pick up the pace. We would never keep up with the agents if they decided to make a dash for it.

"Could you go a little bit faster?" I said impatiently.

The driver's eyes glanced at me in the mirror in the front seat. "Sure."

He didn't change his pace. I caught a glimpse of the speedometer. Ten kilometers per hour? Are you kidding me?

"Can you go a bit faster now?" I prompted.

"Yes."

"Then why don't you go faster?"

His pointed gaze was reflected through the mirror. "Because you should enjoy the beautiful scenery and lights in the city."

"We have seen the lights of the city," I countered. "Please go faster or we will not tip you."

The man laughed. "I don't get tips."

It seems that he needs a little bit of motivation. I pulled a crip, one-hundred dollar bill from my purse. "Please hurry up."

The man's hunched-over posture immediately amended itself into being upright. He expertly passed cars on the road until we were right behind the enemy agents.

"It's a little hard to see," the taxi driver said. "It kind of blends with the night."

"That's why I suggested you pick up the pace," I stated.

The black Toyota turned off of the bright, main street onto a dimmer, backroad. There were no cars in sight. Our driver followed, though I could see the reflection of his eyes darting to and fro.

"You do have your gun, right?" I murmured to Jax.

He nodded, pulling his miniature machine gun from his waistband. I hoped we wouldn't have to use it, but if they decided to fire on us, we would have no choice.

A shot rang through the air.

"Ty, switch seats," I commanded. I slid into the right side of the car, while Ty took his place in the middle.

"Hey, no unbuckling your seatbelt in the car," the driver said.

Too late, we had already swapped.

I had a clear line of sight now. In the darkness, the outline of a man pointed a gun at us through the window. Another shot blasted through the air. The window beside me cracked. I pulled my gun from my purse and fired through the window.

"Woah, woah, woah, no violence," the driver said. The car dropped its speed. I could feel my heart sinking in my chest. Gosh darn it, why can't Finn be here?

I shoved a fifty dollar bill into his face. "Do you want this?"

I could practically see the driver's eyes turn green. He reached out to take it, but I snatched it from reach.

"Drive," I commanded.

He slammed his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward, and we went barreling down the road.

WAOIC picked up the pace. Pellets cracked in the air as Jax fired his machine gun.

"I just have to say," the driver said through gritted teeth, "That if this is how you treat your friends, then I would hate to see how you treat your enemies."

"It's really a game," Ty tried to explain. "Don't worry about it."

Gunfire exploded all round. It was all out war.

I vaguely heard the driver comment, "And I thought American football was dangerous."

I focused on the car in front of us. A bullet came straight for me, but I ducked. The metal buried itself in the seat behind me.

"We need to try to crash the car or something," I said.

"What?" the driver exclaimed.

"Not this car, the other car."

Bullets pummeled the side of the car.

"Oh, my company is not going to be happy about this. This car just got a paint job."

"Don't worry, we'll buy a replacement. For now, just drive as fast as you can and try to pass the car."

The man gritted his teeth, but pressed on the gas nonethless. "You know, I used to want to be a spy. But you know what ma mere said? She said that it would be too dangerous! And so here I am, a taxi driver who's following a car while two parties are shooting at each other."

We were getting closer to the car. I suddenly glanced at the tires. Hmm, yes, that may help.

I shot a bullet into the two back tires of the car. It wouldn't stop the car immediately, but in the long run, it may help since they couldn't travel a far distance.

"Ty, call the Belgian IIA. We need back-up."

"On it," Ty said.

"What do you mean we need back-up?" The driver's face was now pale.

"It's just a part of the game," Ty said. "We're calling some friends to join us. We're having a late-night dinner party."

"Might I suggest you start playing a game that isn't fatale?" The driver's voice rose until he was nearly yelling.

"Don't worry, no one gets hurt. The bullets are fake," Ty said.

Man, he's good.

A bullet whizzed on the other side of the car, grazing Jax's skin. He winced. Beads of blood broke his skin.

The driver glanced in his mirror. "Oh my gosh! You're injured! I thought you said this game isn't dangerous?"

"It's not," Ty began. "That's just..."

"A part of the game," the driver muttered. "Whatever."

Suddenly, the car in front made a sharp turn to the left. The cab's brakes squealed as it cut its speed. The cab driver started to make the turn when a crunching sound resounded in the air. Our car jolted to a stop.

I grabbed my portable flashlight from my purse and turned it on. Four people in IIA uniform hopped out of two black cars straddling the road. I hurried over to join them.

On the right side of the road, the black Toyota was stopped on the curb, inches from a tree. The air in my lungs escaped.

"Thank goodness. We caught them," I said. I approached the driver.

The driver whipped his sweaty brow. "I-I'm alive."

"Yes, you are indeed sir," Ty said as he got out of the car.

"Thank you so much, sir," I panted. I pressed one-hundred dollars into his hand. "Sorry it's not in euros, but you can convert it."

The driver paused, looking at each of us. "That's it."

"Yes."

He glanced around him, then leaned in closer. "This isn't on the show 'Just for Laughs and Gags' or anything?"

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really."

The man shook his head.

"Excuse me sir." I turned around to see agent B-39 step from the shadows. If it weren't for the light of the car's headlights, I couldn't have seen him, for his black attire blended with the night. "We are getting a new taxi for you. Do you need to work anymore shifts tonight?"

The man looked at his watch. "Um, I-I, mean no, I don't think."

"When do you get off work?" I asked.

"Ten o'clock."

It was currently nine-fifty. Surely he wouldn't receive any more calls tonight.

"We'll return your car for you," Agent B-39 told him. "Henderson will drive you home."

A man and woman stepped forward in matching black suits.

"I'm Henderson," the man said.

The driver nodded slightly, though his eyes were glazed over. Before he could say anything, Henderson led him to the second IIA car, and the female agent, agent B-06, got into the beaten-up taxi.

"I'll do the taxi switch," she said. She gazed up at us with her most dazzling smile. "Surely if I do it, there won't be any problems."

"Good thinking," I said. "Posing as a car inspector or something?"

Agent B-06 held up a clipboard. "Sure thing."

"Great. They won't see it coming."

"No way," she agreed. She put the car into reverse and drove off into the dark road.

Agent B-39 turned to the WAOIC agents. They were all handcuffed by the final two IIA agents, Agents B-76 and B-77.

"Good work," I said. "Put them in the backseat of the car and drive them to the Belgian headquarters. Then come back and clean up this little... accident."

"On it," B-76 and B-77 said in unison.

Miss Checklovia glared at me. "How did you know?" She no longer had a Russian accent. Instead, she sounded like a person from the mid-western US.

"Your flowers," I said. "They're associated with death in Russia."

The woman's face hardened, but behind it, I could see something far darker. Revenge.

"Alright, get the car," one of the agents said. The three WAOIC agents disappeared into the IIA vehicle.

"Wow," Ty said, letting out a whistle. "I don't know what to think right now. We just caught two imposter agents?"

"Yes, yes we did." I exhaled. "And...I'm just as stunned as you are."

"You have done some great work," Agent B-39 said. "Shall I call you a cab? Or do you want to ride back to the hotel with us."

I looked at the eight-seater car. "I don't think we'll fit."

"Oh, of course! I'm sorry. "I'll call a cab right now."

"Thanks."

I surveyed the near car crash. We were lucky that the IIA responded so quickly. They must have cut off their escape down the road, and the driver made a quick decision to drive off the road instead of hit a car.

"That's pretty genius of you, you know," Ty said.

"What?"

"Figuring out that red roses are a symbol of death in Russia."

"Oh. Thanks."

As I recalled all that had happened, though, I realized that this wasn't the first time Miss Checklovia had red roses. No, when we had gone to the town square, her escort had given her a bouquet with red roses.

I should have picked up on her days ago. Why didn't I notice?

The robbery was so clearly staged, too. They must have planned a distraction so as to incriminate the other diplomats in the town square, since they weren't being watched.

How could I have been so stupid! She was right there, under my nose the whole time. And I nearly missed her. It's the day before the convention starts, I nearly missed her!

The real Agent X would have noticed. That single thought clouded my mind as I waited for a cab in the darkened road.