"No," he said, sinking to the corner of his desk. "If Joe Solomon can do it . . ."
I felt a flash of rage at the name, but if my mother felt the same, she didn't show it.
"And how are you finding things?" she asked. "Is there anything you need?"
"You mean besides access to the sublevels?"
My mother nodded. "Yes. Professor Buckingham has apprised me of the new safety concerns as far as the subs go. We're working on it.
"I see," Agent Townsend said, but the words sounded more like yeah, right.
Then a sort of shocked look crossed my mother's face.
"Oh, I'm so sorry Agent Townsend. Please, continue. Don't let me interrupt your lecture."
She took an empty seat in the front row on the far right side of the room, and it was Agent Townsend's turn to look surprised.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Morgan. Are you . . . staying?"
"Yes," Mom said.
"Well if I'd known, I would have prepared something special for the occasion."
My mother smiled. "Oh, whatever you had slated for today will be fine, I'm sure. I just like to pop in occasionally to hear all of our faculty teach. Please, don't let me stop you."
I heard Bex stifle a giggle. Tina Walters cut her eyes at me.
"Excellent," Townsend said with a smile. "You're just in time to begin our study of the Circle of Cavan."
Outside, the sky was a crisp, clear blue, but it felt like a storm brewing inside our classroom. There was a static in the sir so strong, I didn't dare touch anything - afraid I'd feel a spark.
He turned to look at Mom. "If that's okay with you, of course, Mrs. Morgan."
"That's something that would typically be covered in Professor Buckingham's senior level History of Espionage course, but given the circumstances, I think we can make an exception."
I expected her to look at me - smile at me - something, anything, besides turning to take in the entire class and saying, "You see girls, Agent Townsend is something of a legend in the clandestine services. I can't think of anyone more qualified for this particular lecture."
"Even Joe Solomon?" I doubt any of my classmates saw the malicious gleam in Townsend's eyes.
I don't think they heard the anger in my mother's voice as she said, "No. not even him."
And with that, Townsend spun on us, he sounded almost like a real teacher when he said," The most important thing that any of you should know about the Circle of Cavan is that it is an organization composed almost entirely of other organization's spies - I'm talking about double agents. Sleeper operatives. They have agents - traitors - at every level of every major security service in the world. They could be anywhere . . ." He moved around his desk. "Even here."
I watched my classmates' eyes as the Circle of Cavan became more than just some legend about Gilly and a ball gown and a traitor and a sword.
"Of course, they operate so deeply underground that some in the clandestine services think the Circle is nothing but a ghost story - and elaborate legend. But in the past hundred years alone, they have been behind at least five assassinations - that we know of
- and they've been strong instigators of three wars. They have sold the identities of dozens of CIA and MI6 undercover operatives to hostile governments, and they came closer than anyone outside the Secret Service will ever know to killing a sitting president of the United States."
He crossed his arms and stared at us. "So make no mistake, they are very real indeed."
We sat there for fifteen minutes, listening to him cite facts as if the Circle was just another group or movement or cause - as if this wasn't personal.
"What do they want?" I heard myself asking.
"Money. Power. Control of -"
"With me?" I interrupted. "What do they want with me?"
I expected him to glance at my mother or avoid the questions, but instead, he settled onto the corner of the desk. That, we do not know. Yet. He paused. "Anything you'd like to add, Rachel?"
I thought she'd tell him that was enough, that class was over. But instead my mother crossed her long legs and placed her elbows on the desk. "Perhaps you could talk a little about their history."
He nodded. "Ioseph Cavan was Irish by birth, and conventional wisdom holds that his followers retreated to his ancestral home after Gillian Gallagher allegedly killed him."
"Allegedly?" Bex said.
Townsend ignored her. "But now the Circle has strong-holds in every corner of the world. It is important to understand that, unlike most political and religious-based groups, the Circle of Cavan has no cause - no calling or purpose beyond profit and power. They are large enough to be dangerous and small enough to slip through cracks. They are mobile, careful, and very highly trained. And the scary thing is - for the most part - we're the ones who trained them."
"What does that mean?" Tina asked.
"It means I wasn't lying when I said they are almost always double agents," he snapped.
"The Circle excels at isolating and recruiting agents who are young, vulnerable, or both."
"But how do you know?" Tina asked.
A sly smile slid over his face as he stood and studied us all in turn. "Because I'm the man who tracks them."
If we hadn't hated him a lot, we might have liked him a little at that moment. But we did.
So we didn't.
"Make no mistake, girls, the Circle is dangerous now for what they are, but who they are.
And where they are. And they could be anyone. They could be" - he turned to look at my mother - "anywhere."