“Oh, yeah?” Owen shifts the way he’s seated just a bit. “Okay, I’m ready for the doozy. Hit me.”
“First, I need to swear you to secrecy. This stays between us.”
Owen makes a motion of zipping his lips.
“When we were sitting on the stage, you asked if I wanted to be a spy. I’ve wanted to pretty much my whole life.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Because you were kidnapped?”
“I’m sure that factored in.”
“That’s pretty cool. But wow. I was prepared for more of a doozy than that. I guess I should tell you that when I was five, I wanted to be amagician who solved crimes. Basically, if Sherlock Holmes had a top hat and a rabbit.”
I chuckle quietly and give him a playful push. “That wasn’t the doozy part. Stay in that prepared state, because I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone before.” I take a breath. “You know how I told you that I work for the family business?”
“Yeah.”
“Lancaster Business Solutions isn’t actually the family business. That’s just our cover.”
Owen cocks his head.
“The family business, or at least the business most of my family is in, is the spy business, although we don’t actually call it that. I work for a top-secret government intelligence agency.”
Owen pauses a moment, then says, “Wait. Are you being serious?”
“One hundred percent. IT Systems Coordinator is my cover job title. I’m actually a Technical Operations Officer. Tech op for short. Or handler, whichever you prefer. Tech op is better, but I prefer handler because I don’t know. I guess it makes me feel like I have more control, even though the term is most used for an intelligence operative with their asset. I’m the one who’s behind the computer while the intelligence operative is out in the field, doing a mission.”
“Oh. So you’re the one who hacks into trafficlights and security systems, and guides the operative in the field through a laser-grid hallway while chewing on gummy bears and being wildly underappreciated.”
“And who says things like ‘I’ve got eyes on you’ and somehow knows everything even while sitting in a windowless van. Yep! That’s me.” I give Owen a minute because he looks like he needs it.
Eventually, he says, “So… it’s like the CIA.”
“Similar. Except the CIA isn’t a secret agency. We are.”
“Oh, right. So, back when we were lying on the blanket in the grass behind our townhomes, you said you’d been recruited into the family business. So, that means you were recruited into a top-secret government spy?—”
“—intelligence.”
“—agency right out of college?”
“Yes. It’s a lot to take in, I know. Well, I mean,” I gesture to our surroundings, “so is being kidnapped.”
“Abducted.”
“By the guy who was single-handedly funding your dream and secretly bulldozing it at the same time.”
“And you work for?”
“The Clandestine Services Agency. Or you can call it the CSA. We do.”
“And I can’ttell anyone.”
“Right. No one. Not even Tessa. Reese doesn’t even know what I really do.”
