Only the Good Spy Young (Gallagher Girls) by Ally Carter Page A

it.”
    I didn’t know what so say, so I sank to the floor and rested my arms on my knees, suddenly far too tired for the first day of school.
    On the other side of the room, Liz sat perfectly still on her bed, weighing options, waiting to cast the tie-breaking vote. When she spoke, her voice was low. “Cam, where’s your mom?”
    “Buckingham said she’s been temporarily detained. Whatever that means.” I sighed. “She didn’t even come to England after ... everything.”
    “I wish she was here,” Bex admitted. “There is something they’re not telling us.”
    I pictured Zach, his breath fogging in the air as he’d said They know more than we know . But my mother was gone. The Baxters and Abby were a thousand miles away. That morning Bex and I had walked away from England—from our last chance at answers—except . . .
    I smiled.
    “Cam,” Liz said softly. “What is it?”
    “Townsend.”
    “What?” Liz said. “Do you think he’s going to be a good teacher?”
    I shook my head.
    “Do you think he’s hot?” Macey asked.
    I laughed.
    “Then why are you smiling?” Liz’s voice went up an entire octave, but I just looked at her—thought about a folder on a metal table and eyes that looked like they’d seen everything.
    “I think he knows things .”

Covert Operations Report
    When Operatives Morgan, McHenry, Baxter, and Sutton (hereafter referred to as The Operatives) returned to the Gallagher Academy for the spring semester of their junior year, they were faced with an absent mother-slash-headmistress, a fugitive former teacher, and a tall, dark, and cocky new faculty member who, presumably, knew far more than he was saying.
    The Operatives were resolved to make him say .
    The first day of the semester started as semesters often do.
    Mr. Smith gave a really good pop quiz on the world’s most unstable political regimes and the top five ways to undermine each. By midmorning Madame Dabney was passing out place cards and instructing us all to prepare a seating chart for a state dinner that includes two ambassadors, five senators, and three rogue operatives who may be selling nuclear technology to the highest bidder.
    But walking out of Madame Dabney’s tearoom that Monday morning, I couldn’t help but remember that nothing would ever be “typical” again.
    “That’s it. It’s official!” Tina Walters whispered to me. “Joe Solomon is in deep.”
    I shot an anxious glance at Bex, but Tina went on slowly, savoring every word.
    “According to my sources, he hasn’t been farmed out to any cooperating agencies. He’s not listed on the in-action list. And he’s not exactly the type for official cover operations, so wherever he is . . . our teacher is in deep, deep cover.”
    The entire junior class seemed to exhale, and I recognized the look that was spreading through the narrow hall. If possible, Joe Solomon had just gotten cooler. And hotter.
    “I bet he and your mom are on some super-secret and dangerous mission, Cam,” Courtney Bauer guessed as we emerged into the main corridor on the second floor.
    “ Yeah .” Anna Fetterman’s voice had taken on a dreamy quality. “I bet your mom and Mr. Solomon are going to find them. I bet...”
    Anna went on, but I tuned out, barely registering the sounds of my school—slamming doors and running girls. I looked into the center of the foyer below, where a half dozen teachers stood huddled together in a way I’d never seen before.
    “Cam?” Anna asked. “Are you okay?”
One by one the teachers in the foyer began to break away
and start down the halls or up the stairs.
    “Cam?” Anna asked, her voice higher.
    “Sorry, Anna,” I muttered. “I’ve . . . got to go.”
    Professor Buckingham was already at the top of the Grand Staircase, walking toward the Hall of History, when I cried, “Professor? Professor Buckingham!”
    “Yes, Cameron?” She didn’t snap the words, but they sounded weary. She seemed tired as she stood beside the