The next morning they left for Virginia at six in the morning. They took a commercial flight, coach class. Sophia put in headphones and closed her eyes, pillow under her neck. Sterling was buried in a huge pile of papers along with his netbook. He barely glanced up for most of the flight.

  Arena had brought her netbook, but ended up sitting and listening to the music on the complimentary headphones. She had no idea what would happen at Langley, or if she could convince them to let her stay with the Misfits, if at least until they recovered the hoverboards. She knew that eventually she would have to go to formal training, but she was hoping that wouldn’t be until the late summer or fall.

  She attempted to look as professional as possible in a dark-blue pantsuit and a gray blouse. She felt extremely nervous, though, and hoped it didn’t wrinkle too much during the flight.

  They arrived at Dulles airport. Arena had never been to Washington DC, and she was hoping maybe she’d get a chance to see the Smithsonian but figured it was doubtful.

  Once at Langley Air Force Base, they were scanned and required to produce credentials. Arena didn’t even know she had credentials until Sterling handed her a packet in the car. She attached the CIA badge to her jacket, and rifled through the rest of the papers, which were a written version of the briefing with Sophia, plus photos, a flash drive, and other documents.

  She felt a hand on her wrist when the MP stopped the car before a door. Sterling squeezed it gently, and said, “Just tell the truth, and remember as much as you can. I will take care of the rest.” Warmth from his thumb surged into the blood vessels. She noticed he didn’t say ‘try’ or ‘if I am able’ but ‘will’, and she hoped that was true. He nodded at her and let go, then turned in the opposite direction.

  The MP informed her to wait outside the room while Sophia was interviewed, which took a long time. Arena sat on a hard chair, and read all the information Sterling had given her, detailed and clearly photographed. Occasionally she heard murmurs of sound, but nothing she could clearly identify.

  Sophia finally emerged, looking worn, then said, “Your turn.”

  The room gave the impression of a courtroom. Three people sat behind a curved table. One motioned for Arena to sit across from them. The man in the center was tall with very dark hair and a beard, but he was athletic and had very pale eyes, maybe gray. The woman on the left, dark-skinned with a perfectly coiffed chin-length bob, regarded Arena coolly. The man on the right had fair skin, white hair, and dark eyes, and looked like a military general, with a lined face and a very stern demeanor.

  “I am Marilyn Gregor,” the woman said, “This is Justin Yates,” she indicated the man with the beard, “and this is Gerald Fieldhaven. Please recount the events of your work with STATUS, from the moment you encountered the hoverboard until today, with emphasis on the first encounter and the recent training mission,” The woman spoke in a clipped Northern accent. Arena noted that the woman left out their titles or positions, and she felt guilty she could not recall the tutorials on the organization of the CIA.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Arena began to speak, and she tried to explain as plainly as possible. The man with the beard glared intensely and pursed his lips at some points, and often took notes. He asked the most pointed questions. The woman wrote a lot, but didn’t often look up. The other man was stoic and stared openly at her for most of the time. He never picked up the pencil in front of him.

  When Arena had finished, they began to ask her questions, asking her to retell a point or to remember a specific detail such as eye color or make of shoe. Arena was sure she was failing whatever test they were giving her, since she didn’t remember many of the things they asked.

  “Now Miss Schmidt, you have accepted assignment with the CIA, and have signed off on it,” said Agent Yates. “You realize that it would be very difficult for us to release you from that commitment. Perhaps you should move to a unit that is more hospitable to your unique skills and talents, once you’ve completed agent training and your degree, of course. In fact, I’m sure we could accelerate some of your schooling as well as your training, since you seem to be so promising. Not many agents respond half as well with as little as training as you had during your recent unexpected mission.”

  “No, sir,” she responded. “I would like to stay with STATUS, if that is acceptable. I feel like I have much to offer them, and they have a great deal to teach me.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, as did the woman. The other man cocked his head and narrowed his eyes slightly, and Arena swore she could see a faint smile.

  “You do understand,” said the woman, “that STATUS does not have much room for advancement. It would be much harder to transfer to a more demanding position than if you were, say, here at Langley.”

  “We saw indications that you might be able to achieve much as a CIA agent. Perhaps we were mistaken?” said Mr. Yates. “We do look for potential agents who have some amount of ambition.”

  The other man coughed. Loudly. He dropped a hand on the table with a thump and turned toward the other two. “I don’t see any reason why this has to be decided at this time. Miss Schmidt has been with STATUS for a month, and her training seems to be exceptional. STATUS has done a lot of work in attempting to recover the hoverboards, and I believe they need Miss Schmidt to finish the recovery. This particular mission is unusual and it might take unusual methods. No one else can fly the boards as well as her, and she doesn’t need to go to formal training immediately, seeing as she has another year to finish school. I think she should hold provisional status until we’ve seen a reasonable amount of time for them to accomplish the mission.”

  The other two shifted uncomfortably. Yates nodded after a moment, but he did not look happy about it.

  “Yes, well, perhaps it can wait for a little while longer,” said the woman. “All right, Miss Schmidt, you are dismissed.”

  Mr. Fieldhaven caught her arm down the hall and offered a gentle smile. “You did a good job. Keep doing what you are doing.” He tilted his head back toward the room. “They want to make everything much too difficult.”

  She smiled back at him. She couldn’t express how much she appreciated his support, so she just said a quiet thank you.

  He began to walk away, then gestured at the sergeant supposed to escort her. “Take her to R&D. I believe they have something she needs.” He turned back at her and said, “I went out of my way to make sure you had it. I hope it helps.”