It was already 5:41 by the time our rental car pulled up the luxurious L'hôtel Châteaux. I hopped out of the front seat of our new rental car, another classic, black sedan. The Director had arranged for a car swap with the IIA agents in Paris before we crossed country lines, and before any police officials noticed. Finn popped the trunk, and Ty, Dari and I grabbed our luggage.

As per the plan, Finn and Jax drove away to find a place to park while the rest of us headed up the red, terraced steps. The expansive hotel seemed to consume everything in its radius, reaching high in the sky and stretching wide on the ground. A few clusters of tourists, all in designer clothing and not lacking for gold accessories and jewelry, chatted at tables in an enclosed garden. I had to crane my neck to peer inside, as a wall of evergreen trees and roses obscured a clear view.

Hopefully there's no one important over there.

I flung open the placed my hand on the intricately carved, golden handle and flung open the transparent door. The lobby encompassed a grand hall, stretching the full length of the hotel. Lots and lots of high-quality red fabric with elaborate gold swirls stretched underfoot. A smattering of gold candles glittered from the crystal chandeliers above, though the true fluorescence derived from lightbulbs embedded in the soaring ceiling.

A few diplomats strolled inside, conversing quietly. Women dressed in flowing evening gowns; men wore formal, black-and-white suits. My rough, leather clothing was rather out of context. Nevertheless, I marched past the glory of the foyer to the check-in desk—Ty and Dari at my heels.

A kind brunette was seated behind the mahogany desk. She glanced up from her computer and smiled.

"Bonjour, Madame. How may I help you?"

Another benefit of my sonographic memory was when I was learning foreign languages. I had listened to recordings of various languages around the world, teaching me how to speak. That, coupled with extensive lingual lessons and speaking practice had taught me to speak many languages fluently, including French.

"I have a reservation for five people," I replied. "I should have two rooms listed under the name Oclen."

Her neatly manicured nails tapped on the keyboard, then she scrolled through the search results.

"Ah! Yes, I see," she said. She reached behind her desk and pulled out two, silver room keys. "Your rooms are numbers six-hundred and six-hundred and one."

"Thank you. I believe everything has been paid for already."

"Yes, I just need a form of official identification so I know that you are who you say you are."

I set my passport on the desk. The woman smiled and typed a few more details into the computer.

"Perfect! Here you go." I took my passport back and slipped it back into a pouch in my bag. Ty picked up the keys from the desk.

"I assume we're good to go to our rooms?" I checked.

"Yes, go right ahead," the woman said. "Enjoy your stay here!"

"Thank you."

We stepped away from the table just as Finn and Jax entered the lobby.

"Is everything set?" Finn asked.

"Yes, come on," I said.

I turned towards the staircase in the center of the room. The steps were made of a shiny, white stone, completed with a lacy, obsidian banister. To my amazement, the floor was so glossy that I could see my reflection on it. I lifted my chin, fixing my gaze upwards. It wasn't good to stare at the ground while I walked. It made a person look weak and submissive. That wasn't who I was.

That wasn't who Xara was.

"I assume our rooms are on the sixth floor," Ty stated.

I nodded to him.

As we walked past a few patrons lingering in the hallway, I couldn't help but notice the condescending stares in the corners of their eyes. Perhaps they found it odd that we weren't using the comfort of the elevator to reach our destination, preferring the footed path.

Or perhaps, they didn't appreciate that people with such low-brow appearances were staying at the same hotel as them.

It didn't matter which it was. I didn't care.

I led the way past many floors with rows and rows of doors that looked alike. The climb reminded me of the light exercise that Professor Nyryn had me do before training. But for a weary crew, the stairs grew monotonous rather quickly.

"Why is our room so far?" Ty grumbled.

"It's cheaper to buy hotel rooms on high floors than low floors," I said.

"Cheaper?" Ty snorted. "We're already staying in a ritzy place, might as well pay a few extra dollars so we aren't exhausted. We need to conserve our energy for the mission."

I shook my head and adjusted my grip on my bag. There were only a few more floors to go. This was nothing compared to spy training. Finally, we reached the sixth floor. Our rooms were waiting for us by the stairwell. I couldn't help but think about how convenient the placement was. At a moment's notice, we could dash to any floor that may have trouble.

I remembered an argument that Dari and Ty had once gotten into over which hotel room they were going to reside in. It had resulted in two rounds of eenie, meenie, minie, mo and four rounds of rock, paper, scissors.

"We'll take this room," I told the guys quickly. "You take the other one."

"Picky, picky," Ty tsked as he handed me the key to my room.

Better than starting an argument.

I opened the door to reveal a spacious room. The heel of my combat boots sunk into the victorian-inspired carpeting—a moss-green color decorated with vegetal patterns. There were two king-sized beds with at least a yard of space in between. Each faced its own wide-screen TV. Two purple, velvet divans sat on either side of the room, adorned with royal blue pillows. Two windows occupied the furthest wall, though the view was obscured by satin curtains.

"Wow," Dari remarked. "This is nice." She wandered through the open doorway to the left of the bedroom, leading to a mini kitchen, a cozy sitting room—complete with another set of velvet couches, and two bathrooms. Dari ran her fingers across the chestnut-brown bar by the kitchen area, accompanied by what appeared to be crystal stools. She opened the fridge behind the bar and held up a bottle of sparkling water, like a trophy. I raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose it's not everyday that we are provided with free, expensive water," I commented.

"Nope!" Dari nestled the water back in its place and shut the fridge door. "But we do whenever we go on missions. I remember one mission where Director Rokmond paid for room service. I believe it was when we traveled to some ritzy place in California. Their shrimp cocktails were the bomb."

"I imagine so."

I turned to survey the room, allowing myself to exhale in contentment. Finally, we've made it. I set my bag on the ground and pulled out my phone to begin drafting a mass message to the crew, detailing our next steps.

At 6:00, we must attempt to locate an ambassador who is staying here and find out their dinner plans. We all need to change into formal clothing to avoid suspicion. Then, we should split up into two teams, one of three and one of two. Together, we will question the suspect.

Dari leapt onto the bed nearest the window. "I call dibs."

"Sure," I said, not bothering to glance up from my work.

Remember, our goal is to pick out not only who the imposter is, but also watch out for and prevent any switches from occurring. We shall meet in the lobby at exactly 5:55 and head to the hotel restaurant. Fortunately, we are all well-known by the diplomats, so it should be fairly easy to slip in and talk to them. Our cover is that we are body-guards on routine duty.

That's it. Agent 24 signing off.

I sent the message to my crew, then bent down to my suitcase and pulled out a matching, beige blazer and pants, along with a crisp, white top.

"I'm going to change now," I said to Dari. "Make sure that you are ready in exactly ten minutes. There's probably another bathroom that you can change in. Also, hack into the restaurant security system when you get a chance. I need to see which diplomats we are going to target tonight."

I stepped from the restroom after changing into my clothes. Dari was seated in the exact place I had last seen her, except now she wore slacks and a black top and was tapping away at her laptop.

"Have you hacked the system yet?" I asked.

"Yeah." She spun her computer around so I could see what was on the screen. I scanned the pockets of diners for familiar faces. My eyes rested on two tables of interest. First: The Italian Representative Antonio Bachaniello and his wife, Ilaria, were dining with John Whincliff, the Representative from the United States. Second, I noticed Madame Roselle Monpelie eating alone.

That's odd. Madame Monpelie was never one to be by herself. She had told Xara that on many occasions. She needed people and excitement. So why was she alone?

Furthermore, Madame Monpelie never ate before seven p.m, at least according to Xara's recollections. What had caused her to dine so early?

These were certainly points of interest.

"Who do you want to take?" I asked Dari.

Dari gave me a look of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to talk to Italy and the USA, or France?"

Dari shrugged. "I dunno."

I looked back at the video surveillance. Madame Monpelie was highly suspicious. I would have to investigate, and the only way to do that was to speak with her.

But... I couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak with both the representatives of Italy and the USA. I could kill two birds with one stone and deal with Madame another time.

"Okay, I'll take Italy and the USA. Finn and I will go and speak with them. You and Ty tackle Madame."

"Kay," Dari said. "Record the convo, right?"

"Yes," I said. Dari pulled her miniature, high-transistor radio from her pocket and started fiddling with it. I assumed that she was setting it up.

I turned back to the screen just in time to see the doors of the restaurant swing open. Franz Freiburg, the German representative, strode into the room.

"Dari, I want you to talk with Madame," I amended. "Ty can talk with Freiburg."

A few years ago, Ty had served as the German representative's bodyguard for a month due to a very long convention that was of national security. As a result, the two were on very good terms. I was pretty sure that Freiburg would be most open with Ty. As I sorted through various conversations, I found that he was more reserved whenever Xara had tried to speak with him. Besides, Ty was probably better equipped to pick out incongruities than I was, considering how well he knew the German representative.

"What about Jax?" Dari mentioned.

"Jax usually prefers to not be active in interviewing suspects," I said. "I think I'll assign him to hall patrol. He can watch out for people of suspicion."

"Good thinking." Dari swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. "Since I'm watching Madame, I'll wear a necklace and heels, even though they are the bane of my existence. You know how Madame likes her style."

"I know. She's always wearing huge, statement jewelry. I'm not trying to knock her style, but really does look gaudy at times."

Dari laughed as she headed towards her bag. "If she's wearing her giant, ruby earrings again, I'm going to flip." Dari paused as she bent down to pick up a necklace. "Wait, how do you know about the jewelry?"

"I have all of Xara's memories," I told her.

Dari's eyes went wide. "You what?!"

"Yeah, didn't anyone tell you?"

"No! What the heck? How is that even possible?"

"To be honest, I'm not totally sure. It's something having to do with recording the neurological patterns and signals in Xara's brain and transferring it to my brain. There's a whole procedure in place. Xara's brain was downloaded onto a computer and then wired to my brain. That way, I can recall everything that she can recall."

"That's insane. So you literally know everything that Xara used to know?"

"Yeah."

"I can't. That's... wow. I don't even know what to think right now."

She turned around, shaking her head. She reached into her bag and pulled out a half-inch pair of heels. Of course, Dari would do the bare minimum. She then rustled through her bag until she found a squashed jewelry box, from which she lifted a tiny, star necklace.

"Can you help me put this on?" she asked.

"Sure." I dug my nail into the tiny clasp and fastened it around her neck.

The sound of knuckles rapped against the front door.

"That's probably the guys," Dari said.

I headed to open the door, then stopped. It would seem odd if we all showed up at once. It would appear too... planned. I would have to give each one a specific time at which they were to arrive in the dining room. I pulled out my phone and began typing messages to each crew member.

Dari frowned. "Aren't you going to open the door?"

"We can't all go down at once. I'm going down with Finn first since Whincliff and Bachaniello appear to be halfway through their meal. It makes sense to speak with them first, before they leave. You should arrive at the same time, since Madame may have been sitting there for a while, too, but you must use the street entrance, not the entrance from the hotel lobby. Ty will enter ten minutes later, once Freiburg gets settled. Jax needs to be stationed in the hallway where he can observe other representatives."

Dari nodded. "Kay."

I sent out the instructions to each person, then waited exactly thirty seconds.

"I'm leaving now, follow me after one minute has elapsed."

Dari gave a thumbs up. I headed out the door to find Finn waiting for me.

"Ready to go, sis?" He asked.

I nodded, trying to slip into Xara mode. As we descended the steps, I realized that I was heading into my first, real assignment. I had to make sure that I was on my A game. I couldn't mess up. I had to be Xara. If I wasn't, then the mission would fail.

I couldn't help but feel my palms starting to sweat. I forced myself to breath.

Inhale. Exhale. Release the pressure. Inhale. Exhale. Release the pressure.

Slowly, the pressure ebbed away from my body. It was a breathing technique that Professor Nyryn had taught me as a child. I remembered using it in the early years—when I was practically still a baby. Most people don't remember what it's like at the age of two and three. But I remembered. I remembered so much so vividly. And I remembered the pain that my body was in so often. One minute I would be fine, the next I felt like my cells were being singed from within. Profesor Nyryn had told me that it was just a side effect of the cloning procedure—that I would grow out of it. In the short term, she told me to relax my body and breathe. It always helped.

That's how I survived my first few years—I breathed. And I hoped that one day the sensation would go away.

And it did. Once I turned six, the burning pain was completely gone. I never felt the agony anymore.

This shall pass, just like everything else, I reminded myself. Just take it one breath at a time.

I came down from the clouds of my thoughts just as Finn pushed the double doors to the dining room open.

Focus, Xara! Focus!

My eyes zeroed in on the ambassadors immediately. John Whincliff looked up from his meal of chicken parmesan and waved at me. I allowed the corners of my lips to turn upwards ever so slightly. That was the way that Xara conveyed that she was being friendly.

I crossed the room to the corner that they sat in, surrounding a round, six-chair table.

"Miss Xara Oclen! A pleasure to make your acquaintance again," Mr. Whincliff greeted.

"Yours as well." John Whincliff had only been a diplomat of the United States for a year, so the real Xara didn't know him very well. She had only met him twice, and only had one job as his body guard. If was definitely one to look out for, since I didn't know him as well.

I suppose that was lucky for me, however, since he wouldn't notice as much if I slipped up as Xara.

The Italian ambassador stood and bowed. "A pleasure, Mr. and Miss Oclen."

"Thank you," I said.

"Ours too," Finn added.

Mrs. Bachaniello smiled at the two of us. She was rather shy and didn't really enjoy being in the limelight. I found it slightly ironic that she was the diplomat's wife, since they are known for being highly sociable. She allowed herself to be dragged to parties and galas many nights per week, and was constantly traveling with her husband. Yet she never seemed beaten down by the burdens of entertaining guests.

We're all different, I suppose.

"Please, join us for the remainder of our dinner," Mr. Bachaniello invited.

"Thank you," Finn said. He pulled out the chair in the furthest corner of the dining room for me to sit in.

I would have to thank him later for thinking of such a clever idea. From where I sat, I had a perfect view of the entire dining hall.

"I'm sorry that we're almost done with our meal," Whincliff said. "Would you like to order any drinks?"

"That's quite alright," Finn answered for both of us. "We're fine as is."

It was firmly ingrained in our minds from spy school that it was never okay to drink on duty.

"Let me at least order you both a water." Whincliff held up his hand as a waiter passed by.

"How may I help you, sir?" the waiter asked.

"Two waters, please, for our two guests."

"Certainly, sir. It shall be out momentarily."

"Thank you."

Mr. Whincliff turned his attention back to us. "So, how is everything going?"

"We're doing well," Finn said.

"I assume you are here to protect us," Mrs. Bachaniello stated.

"Yes, we are bodyguards for the convention."

"Excellent," Mr. Bachaniello said. "I'm glad to know that everything will be in order. I would hate for anything to go wrong at the meeting. There are many important people attending. Surely it will be a target."

Surely? What makes you so sure? I wondered.

"Yes, unfortunately so," Mr. Whincliff chimed in. "It's such a shame that people have to be so greedy for money."

"It certainly is."

I stole a glance in my peripheral vision at how things were going between Dari and Madame Monpelie. As usual, the French representative was dressed in a silky evening gown, which matched her humongous, electric-red ruby earrings. They were so big that they made her earlobes sag. She completed her look with a smear of red lipstick and a brown, fur stole. She appeared to be giving Dari fashion advice.

I would find out all of the details later. I could be sure that Dari would rant the second we entered our hotel room.

"Did you just arrive?" Mr. Wincliff asked.

"Yes, about half an hour ago," Finn said.

"Did you have a good flight?"

"Yes, it was quite smooth sailing. Though I will admit, I'm slightly jet lagged from the trip."

"I imagine so. It's quite a jump from Washington to Brussels."

"How was your flight?"

"It was very smooth, too. Not a single hitch in the road, though there were a few bumps due to turbulence."

Finn grinned. He always loved a good pun.

I cleared my throat. "How was your flight, Mr. and Mrs. Bachaniello? Did you arrive today as well?"

"No," Mr. Bachaniello replied. He shifted slightly in his seat. "We actually came a few days ago. The flight went very well for us, too."

"That's good."

"Yes, it is," Mrs. Bachaniello chimed in.

I glanced at Ty as he entered the door. Mr. Freiburg broke into a huge smile when he saw his old friend and bodyguard.

At least everything seems to be going well... for now.

We continued to talk about a smattering of things. I grew quite bored of the discussion until they finally finished their meal and asked for the check.

"I do hope you are attending the ball two nights away," Mrs. Bachaniello said.

Finn smiled warmly. "Yes, we will."

"It's so wonderful to have such capable people protecting us," John Whincliff said. His eyes scanned the dining room for a moment. "Where are your friends?"

"Friends?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you aren't protecting us by yourselves, right?" At that moment, a loud ringing erupted at the table. Mr. Whincliff pulled his phone from his pocket, which was the source of our interruption. "Oh, one moment. Hello?"

I exhaled slowly as he walked a few paces from the table. I was quite perplexed by his question. It just felt... off. Why would he want to know that?

I made a mental note of it. He would be a logical choice to be replaced by WAOIC since I didn't know him as well. Theoretically, they would want to replace a person who I was less familiar with. Then, if their agent messed up, I may not notice.

"Well, we'd better be going," Mr. Bachaniello announced. "I have much work to do in preparation for the big meeting."

"Are you going to be staying at the hotel?" Mrs. Bachaniello asked.

"Yes." I tried to smile warmly—at least, 'Xara' warmly.

"Wonderful!" Mr. Bachaniello exclaimed. "So we'll be seeing you soon. Ciao!"

Mr. Bachaniello pulled out his wife's chair for her, and the two left the dining room.

"Perfect! So everything is settled." My head turned to face Mr. Whincliff. I was itching to know who was on the other end of the line. Even if he was the enemy agent, he probably was not talking to his superiors.

So then the question was: who was he talking to?

"Great! Talk to you later!" Mr. Whincliff said. He ended the call and placed his phone back in his pocket.

I'd probably find out the answer to my question very soon.

"I am so sorry," the US Diplomat began. "That was the Head of the State Department. He was double checking to make sure everything was in order with my trip. Afterall, I only arrived yesterday."

"That's quite alright," Finn replied.

"Great." Mr. Whincliff glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening. "Oh my! I had better get going. It's already half past six o'clock. Hopefully we can talk more some other time."

"Yes, for sure," Finn said. I nodded in agreement.

"Well, as Mr. Bachaniello said, Ciao!"

He stalked towards the door and disappeared into the lobby. I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed a message to Jax. We need to watch Whincliff tomorrow.

Based on his activities that he decided to do during this time alone could provide insight into his possible involvement with WAOIC.

A sudden thought crossed my mind. What if WAOIC paid off an ambassador to tell them the information they wanted? What if there is no official 'switch' that is going to occur?

There was no way to know, at least for the moment. But I would have to bring that point to the Director's attention. It would require a total reversal of our strategy.

"What do we do?" Finn whispered.

"We leave for right now," I breathed.

He nodded slightly. We stood up in unison and walked towards the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I stole a glance at the progress Dari and Ty were making. Ty appeared to be having an active conversation with Mr. Freiburg, but Dari and Madame Monpelie were barely speaking to each other. Dari's eyes darted all around the room, trying to think of something that would spark a useful conversation. Under the table, I could see her foot bouncing faster than a round of machine gun bullets. She hated it when things weren't working like a well-oiled machine, and her conversation with Madame was taking more than a few nuts and bolts to get rolling.

At least you tried, Dari. In fact, Madame Monpelie's lack of conversation might have been more of a clue than a normal conversation. There was probably something occupying her mind.

Finn held the door open for my as we stepped into the foyer. My eyes fell on a divan outside the restaurant, and I quickly sat down. I needed to send out my last set of instructions for the night.

Finish your conversations. When there's a natural break, head upstairs to my room. We have some things to discuss.