Disappearing, Inc.

Chapter 2- Disappearing Inc.

Chapter 2- Disappearing, Inc.

We strained our ears to hear the hushed voices through the big oak door.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Asked Morgan quietly. We all shrugged our shoulders, equally as lost as she was. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind the door and the knob started to rattle. Scrambling to our hiding spots, I saw a swab of blonde hair followed by a head full of brown hair exit the room and start down the hallway.

"Girls, we know your watching us," hissed Madame Miranda angrily, "You try to eavesdrop every time we go in there."

"Yeah, makes it kind of hard to have private conversations," the blonde added on jokingly. We all chuckled guiltily as we climbed out of our places.

The blonde is Madame Miranda's apprentice, Amy. She is twenty-three and completed the same program that we stand in now. After she graduated, she had to apprentice to one of the master spies before she could go on to her own spying career. Unfortunately, she got stuck with Madame Miranda. However, Amy is the exact opposite of Miranda. Amy is fun, funny, and drop dead gorgeous. To go along with her shiny blonde hair, she has gray-blue eyes that matches the color of stormy skies. Her skin is naturally flawless except for a thin and faded scar running from the bottom of her ear to the side of her jaw that she got many years ago during a mission. Amy is a goddess and our idol.

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"Ladies, up to your room, you have a big day tomorrow," pounded Madame Miranda.

We hung our heads low and dragged our feet along the carpet grouchily.. Once we had walked out of sight, we dashed up our twirling staircase and down the velvet lines halls passing hundreds of different doors and paintings to our room.

Each and every hall and door of our house is unique. One hall has thousands of crystals spanning across the ceiling, and all the doors are made from a different gemstone. Another hall looks as if it was from a cartoon and everything is different shapes and bright colors. Yet another hall is covered in floor to ceiling mirrors like a fun house.

However, my favorite hall holds our room. Everything in it looks like it came from Mount Olympus. Towering marble pillars dominate the walls and a burgundy velvet carpet lines the floor. Candles flicker on the golden and red walls leading to our bronze plated door. Even the way the light reflects off the golden leaves on the chandelier give the effect of Ancient Greece.

The interior of our room is a different world than the hall. A quadrant of four-post beds lie in the corners covered in shades of aqua and white to match the costal modern theme of the room. Connecting each of the beds are woven hammocks overstuffed with pillows. Book shelves line the bottom of the wooden floor and in the center of the room is a fire pit, complete with stone benches. Above us, the ceiling is painted to match the night sky with specks of white on the midnight blue surface. With the press of a button, food appears and with one more click, our closet can be scanned electronically or the old fashioned way of walking through it. Basically, our room is paradise.

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I thrusted myself onto the bed like a beached whale and heaved a sigh.

"Team, we need to get talking." Ordered Morgan, clapping her hands. I sat up and started drifting towards the fire pit with Brooke and Kelsey until she cut us off.

"Not here. Privately." She dragged out. Immediately, we understood. Sure, our room was perfect, but no place to talk. Luckily, unlike Madame Miranda, we had a special spot that no one else knew about.

Secret passages fill the mansion, and the entrance to our special room is quite difficult to access. First, you have to enter something like a locker combination into one of the bed posts. Then, that opens up a hole under the shoe boxes in our closet. From there, a slide that descends into the basement. Finally, in a cellar in the basement there is a rickety, old ladder that continues to our secret room.

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The rusty rungs rattled against the drywall. I peeked over the ledge and into the pale yellow room. Sitting down in an over stuffed chair, I asked "Morgan, what is it?"

"Guys, how long have we been a team?" She asked. I looked around. We've been a team for well, forever. All of us came for different places and met here. We are different in our own ways, but fit together perfectly.

I glanced at Kelsey. She came from who knows where; one day many years ago she arrived on the door step wrapped in a blanket. Now she is the techno-geek of our group and constantly comes up with new gadgets. Her short black hair is her trademark and juxtaposes her pale skin.

Morgan is the glue to the group and quite the joker. Although she is short, she is amazing at getting in and out of a situation. Sadly, her parents died in a car crash when she was really young. Morgan has her own sassy style and olive colored skin and even though she knows some tricks of the trade, she can never seem to find the right shade of lipstick.

This is where Brooke comes in, she is the fashionista of the group and unbelievable at distracting the enemy. Her parents travel the world and are widely known stock traders (the gene obviously missed Brooke), which leaves me.

My parents are still out there, in fact they are spies themselves. They started this program and they ditched me here when I was four. They rarely visit although they never miss a birthday or Christmas to send me gifts. These both annoy me, if they care so much to send me gifts, why was the last time they saw me face-to-face five years ago? I guess my contribution to our 'squad' is my combat skills. They always rant on how I can handle a weapon and all the ways I know how to kill a man with my bare hands. They say it's genetics, I say it's my anger issues.

"Okay, I'm taking your silent response as forever." Morgan concluded.

"Yeah. It has been, I can't remember a time without you guys." I thought aloud. Beside me, I heard Brooke choke down her tears. Along with being the fashion addict, she was also the softie.

"Okay, I was thinking we needed a team name. 'Ladies', 'girls', and 'guys' aren't going to work. We need something real." Morgan stated.

"Yeah," agreed Kelsey, "How about 'Kelsey and Company'. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Uh no." Morgan declared, the rest of us laughing.

"Okay, we should include something about spying right, but we don't want it to be cheesy since this isn't some after-school club." I concluded.

"Good thinking. No 'Spy Girls' then."

"Agreed." We responded simultaneously.

"How about 'Only the Good Spy Young'?" Brooke offered.

"Too long," decided Kelsey.

"Disappearing, Inc." I said as I got up. No questions asked. None needed. It was perfect.