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I wake up in the morning feeling sweaty and anxious. Nevertheless I begin to mentally plan what to pack for this mission. 

Going undercover is one of the most dangerous operations a spy will ever have to endure, besides torture. You have to think fast, be smart, and most of all- be able to dodge a bullet. I decide to pack light, concealing a gun in the sleeve of my pant leg and a knife secured to my arm. All that was left now was a wallet full of cash.


Veracruz is a fancy type of Hawaiian themed luau area. I would need to buy some expensive "man-jewelry" and enough money to buy a whole gang of pool players a round of drinks. For most guys it's all about the bikini cladded females walking around- but for me it's to find the spy and get close. It's 4:30 AM and it's almost time for me to get to my plane.  Director Chiron approaches me at the terminal holding a file. His face is light but his eyes are grim."Sir?" I ask quietly. He just gives an encouraging shove-of-the-file-into-my-hands and walks off. I shrug. Another procedure that only seasoned spies can complete is patience. When you try to get information from someone by pretending to be an accomplice you must be patient with them. You can't expect them to give up all the information they have and all their secrets by immediately pressing them. On the plane I open the file. The file contains a picture of a man with dark olive skin, Russian heritage by the look of it. His hair is sleek with way to much hair product. Immediately I scan the document for listed languages this man speaks, English and Spanish. Typical. 


I approach the man at a sunrise incline angle, where if he used his peripheral vision he could see me but would generally choose not to. I slide up to the bar and slam down my shot glass and in my best drunk voice, "another my good sir." The Russian guy gives a disgusted look at me but I choose to ignore it. Instead I sling my arm around his neck and breathe hot air down his neck, not one person could possibly think I am sober. 

"Buddy! Buddy buddy buddy." I chide him and slide his lime off his mini parachute drink and into my waiting mouth. "Hola mis amigooooo." I draw out the "o" for effect and than break into a coughing fit. Russian hair product dude wipes his face with a napkin and shoves me back into the bar. My arm hits my refilled shot glass, spilling it. I'm getting no where with this guy, I need to come up with a better angle. 

All the sudden as I'm getting up to straighten myself up in the bathroom and report back to HQ, not necessarily in that order. A female bumps into me on my way to the loo, and I stumble and trip into the unforgiving sand pebbles. I wince as they dig into my palms and face. The woman helps me up, but doesn't apologize. Her face is hard and set, her eyes gray as the sky on a stormy night. In unison, they flash at me dangerously. I immediately brush myself off and hold out my hand formally.  

She ignores it. (Sheesh women.) 

Instead she starts to walk towards the bar, but I grab her hand. Something about her doesn't seem quite right to me.

"Wait uh..." I try to think of something to say but the music playing is really catchy. Dare I say it? Groovy. My foot taps to the beat. Apparently Miss Shove-your-face-in-some-sand isn't amused and pulls a pistol out of her dress from a place I would rather not name. I stare into the gun and smile. And for some reason, she smiles back. I gently pull her pistol arm down, and we begin to dance to the music. 

We sway back and forth, and I can tell she isn't like most other females. She is tough, beautiful, but that isn't what gets me. I'm sure she is a spy too. I decide to find out and lead her to the balcony.

"'m Percy Jackson," I start. She smiles again and her blonde hair shines in the sun. 

"I'm Annabeth Chase." This sentence makes me gasp but I quickly cough to cover it up. She narrows her eyes at me but doesn't question. I need to get away, this mission may have just been compromised because of her. Hurriedly, hoping she won't suspect anything, I offer to get us drinks. Just water for her. But as soon as I'm out of her sight I run for my pick-up car and we make a break back to HQ. Of course we can't go straight there in case someone is following, so we go to some low-down underrate hotel. 

I remember reading the file the Director gave me this morning, I read up all about my target. But what I didn't know is the woman I just met was an accomplice of him. 


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