Agent Benjamin Ripley

I had once regretted joining the CIA's Academy of Espionage. To be fair, I still do sometimes. My life has improved since I was I started out as a patsy. I was in my last year of Spy school, and I had just turned 18. It was Valentine's day, and I was ignoring the stares for younger kids. Having defeated an evil organization, I was something of a legend now. It did boost my street cred. Not that I was complaining.

"Hey Ben!" A girl's enthusiastic voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned around and greeted my best friend, Zoe Zibbell, with a smile. "Hey, Zo. What's up?"

"You won't believe this..." She started out. "The younger girls were gossiping about this 'hottie' who 'took out an entire evil organization five times'." She said, putting air quotes around every other word. I shook my head, smirking. "SOOOOO… Of course I had to know who the heck they were talking about, 'cause I have to know this kid, right? So I went up to them and asked them WHO THE HECK do they mean, and they started talking about Ben 'smokescreen' Ripley, the dreamiest guy in spy school." Her eyebrows quirked and she smirked at me. I rolled my eyes at her expression.

"Then they asked me if I knew you. I said 'yeah, we've been best friends since we were 12. I'm the one who gave him the nickname 'Smokescreen'. So they all oohed and asked me whether or not you were single. I said 'No. he's been dating the top spy in the CIA for 3 years now.' They looked very disappointed. You're going to have to change your nickname to heartbreaker."

She finished, her face smug. I decided to change the subject. "So...uh...what are you going to do for Valentine's Day with M-" I was interrupted by a boy coming up and putting his hands over Zoe's eyes and saying "Guess who?" She looked contemplative for a second and then replied "Hmmmmmm..." She reached back and flipped the boy over her shoulder and put her elbow to his throat, her right knee on his chest. "My idiotic boyfriend who thinks he can sneak up on me." My best friend Mike Brezinski grinned openly up at us. He hadn't changed a bit. Mike was still the cool, suave and handsome one in our friend group. Now, I was in no means ugly, I had glowed up a lot, but Mike had an aura. "Hey babe." He planted a kiss on Zoe. She let him up, smirking at her victory. "So, Ben... What are you and the ice queen doing for Valentine's day?" I frowned, the ice queen he was referring to was my girlfriend, Erica Hale. I had looked forward to Valentine's Day for a while, hoping to spend it with her but she was called away on a case. "She's on a mission, remember?" "Ohhhhh, yeah! Busting that… uh.. What was it? Illegal weapons group, right?" Mike had draped his arm around Zoey by now. "Yeah, I'm not supposed to talk about it much." I rolled my eyes as Zoey punched him when he tried to kiss her again. They had been dating for 2 years now. Mike had a crush on her for a while, but he had needed to let her heal. Warren Reeves, a former classmate, had turned out to be a SPYDER agent. Worst of all, he was one of Zoey's good friends. In a shootout with SPYDER and the CIA when we were fifteen, Warren was fatally injured, and died from bullet wound. We had beaten SPYDER the year after, taking all of the higher-ups to prison, and rooting out multiple moles in the CIA. I chatted with Zoey and Mike, heading to Self preservation-6. A few minutes in to class, though, I was sent to the principal's office. He greeted me with a cordial "Benjamin." and informed me I needed to sit down. "I'm afraid that Agent Hale is in a compromised situation, and is in need of saving." I was shocked for a moment, and then asked "Which one? Which Hale?" The principal replied, adjusting his toupee. He had gotten a new one the year before. It looked like a chinchilla had died of boredom on his head. "Agent... Erica Hale" I'm pretty sure my eyes widened to comical proportions. I was usually the one being bailed out by Erica. She was the best agent in the CIA, even at 21. "Are you sure?" I questioned him, concerned. "Obviously. Don't question me." He snapped and handed me a FYEO folder. It was stamped with the official mark. "For your eyes only." I breathed out. I hadn't seen one in just about three years. "Go on, get ready." The principal looked annoyed and sighed. I thanked him, and rushed to my room. Grabbing my knife, I opened the folder with a lot of difficulty. The case folder stated that "Operation Catnip" was to get Erica out of the case, and gather her information she had collected in her three weeks undercover. Erica was due to be in a club in D.C. tonight, posing as a dealer's girlfriend, Sasha. I was supposed to infiltrate the club, and get her out without instigating a shootout. It was the first time I would see or talk to her in three weeks. I dressed in jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a leather jacket. I looked in the mirror, as someone knocked on my door. I opened it to see one of the boys on my floor. For extra credit, I had become a Residential advisor, like my friend Tina. "What's up?" I asked him. "Uhhhhh... Why do you look like the Fonz?" He replied "Never mind that, what do you need?" I was running out of patience already. "Well, uh, someone broke into Ian's room and took all of his clothes." I sighed and replied "I'm going on a mission, but tell Ian to look at the clues, not get in trouble, and if worst comes to worst, sleep in his clothes." "A mission?! Can I come?!" Hector looked excited, and I couldn't help but be reminded of myself at 12. "Sorry, bud. No-can-do." I paused, confused about how to describe what I was doing without giving anything away or making him suspicious. "I'm bailing out a... friend... of sorts." I pushed past him, envelope in hand. Opening the big door, I entered the grounds of the school, cold and covered in a white blanket. The envelope informed me that no transportation would be provided. I called an Uber, shivering in the 30 and below weather. When he arrived, I climbed in the car, smiling weakly with gratefulness. I scanned the contents of the envelope during the 30 minute ride to the club.

I entered, and was immediately struck with the smell of alcohol and sweat. People were dancing to the music, and it was loud. I sat myself at a high table, and ordered a sprite. While it was being prepared, I cased my surroundings. My eye caught on a group of people in leather, and in the middle of the fray was Erica. She was wearing a form fitting top that she wouldn't be caught in otherwise. Her chestnut hair and ice blue eyes stuck out among the tattoos and leather. I caught her eye, smiling softly. She straightened up in surprise but you could only tell what she was thinking if you knew her really well. I decided to pretend to be a drunk party-boy to get near her. I grabbed a drink from a nearby table and meandered closer. I started dancing next to her. "Erica." I whispered. It was a long shot that she would hear me over the ear-piercing music. "Erica!" I whispered a second time, getting closer. "What are you doing here, Ben?" She hissed back, turning around to dance with me. "I'm here to save you!" I yelled. "WHAT? Let's go somewhere else" Erica responded, a confused look of her face. We headed over to the bathrooms, crossing the stinking club covered in sweat and alcohol. "Ben, why are you here? You might compromise my mission." She asked me, her voice dangerously quiet, her ice blue eyes flashing dangerously. "I told you, Erica. They sent me here to retrieve you. I don't know why. I have the case folder here. You can look at it while we're in the car." She sighed, resigned and folded her arms across her chest. "I just don't understand why I'm being retrieved. The case is going fine, but I haven't gotten what I need yet." She continued "Look, it's not like I'm not happy to see you, but I need to finish this. I could get a promotion." I tried arguing with her, which, in hindsight, wasn't the best idea. "Erica... If they think that it's best, maybe it is." I tried to reason. "Since when do we listen to what they want, Ben?" She fired back. "I don't know, maybe when they became smart about stuff and you wanted that promotion." I sighed. "C'mon, we've got to go." I grabbed her arm, turned around, and stopped short. A guy, who looked to be about my age, stood a foot away from us. He was about 6'4", three inches taller than me, and had dark black hair with a goatee. It was a really stupid goatee. "And where do you think you're going?" He asked us, menacingly cracking his fingers and stepping closer. "That's my girl." He said, pointing at Erica. I flashed back to the case file, my mind wandering. This was Erica's, excuse me, Sasha's "boyfriend," Jackson Waters.

"Hey… man…" I greeted him weakly with a smile. "I'm…. uh… Eric-Sasha's… uh…" I struggled to think of something that wouldn't make me seem suspicious. Thankfully, Erica stepped in. "My younger brother, Ben. He was advising me to leave, but I told him I didn't want to." I raised my hands in mock surrender, pretending to be a concerned younger brother, rather than a terrified boyfriend and CIA agent. "Is that so?" He questioned us, raising his dark eyebrows. "Yeah. Mom wants you home by ten, Sash." I said turning to "my sister."

"Not so fast." Jackson said, holding his finger out before I tried to leave. "Get back here, Ben." Something in his voice struck a nerve. I couldn't place what it was, but he sounded almost… familiar. "Long time no see, Agent Benjamin Ripley." He smiled devilishly, pulling off his wig, fake nose, and chin complete with that stupid goatee. My heart dropped. He no longer had the face of the criminal dating Sasha, instead it was the face of a man I had presumed dead, or crying in a hole somewhere. It was the face of my nemesis since I was 12 years old. It was the one and the only Murray Hill.