'Kay, you guys are literally insane. This story got 18 votes in a day. I owe this big time. Thank you all so much.

This chapter includes Erica Hale and my own character, Audrey Hale (from spy school clash of spies). You might think Erica (or any of the characters) are out of character. In my opinion, the should be a little OOC. It's been ten years and their lives changed dramatically in that time. It would be unrealistic for them not to be. So please keep an open mind. Also, perspectives change in this chapter so Ben is still first person while any other character's perspective is third person limited. It should be clear when perspective change but if it isn't , just drop the question!

Alright on that note, please enjoy. Thanks for all the votes. You'll are awesome!!

16 Million Dollar Mansion in Beverly Hills near Hollywood

0700 hours

January 10, 2024

Erica Handler sat on her giant loveseat overlooking Hollywood from vast windows as she flicked through her emails.

Request to go on Jimmy Fallon. Delete. She wasn't promoting anything right now.

Fundraising gala. Sure... they were raising money for cancer research.

Kardashian Party? Na, too public. She didn't mind them but their events turned into a gossip magazine frenzy. Erica preferred to keep a little more private than that.

Vogue magazine photoshoot and interview? Yeah, why not. Erica could go for a nice cover shoot. Any excuse to make an outfit with her designer.

Oprah's birthday party? Hell yeah. No explanation needed for that one.

Request to be in Blake Blane's music video. No way. That creepy country singer was trying to get her to do whatever he could, whether it was in videos or appearances on the same talk show. Erica knew he had a massive crush on her and she didn't reciprocate the feelings at all.

Charity event at local children's hospital? Always. Those cute didn't ask her about her relationships or tried to get pictures for clout on social media. They didn't care. It was amazing.

Suddenly, an unknown number popped on the screen for a call. Erica quickly rejected it. She always got scared when someone called her. If the news outlets or public got her number, she would never get left alone. All of her business went through her manager or through her email. Only her very, very close friends had her actual phone number.

The number popped up on the screen again. If it was an accident call, they wouldn't have called twice. Erica feared the worst. The media had gotten her number. She deleted the call.

Finally, for a third time this person called. This time, she screenshotted the number, intending to research it later. But denied the call.

Erica realized that it was a Washington DC area code. At first, she thought maybe it was her mom or dad or grandpa or even her sister. But she double checked and their numbers were already in her contacts, thus not an unknown number. The unknown caller finally gave up and Erica resumed what she was doing. But she kept this caller in her mind, wondering who it might be.

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I groaned and gave up after the third call. Erica probably changed her number after she got famous. Why would she even remember a promise she made ten years ago? It was no use. I guess I'd have to forget about this whole thing for right now and go to work.

Suddenly, someone was banging on my door. Loudly.

"I'm coming!" I shouted at them. The banging increased.

I glanced out of the peephole. My landlord, Chase Gains. He was a middle-aged man who had some serious drinking problems. He didn't have an issue with you if you paid rent on time, which I did, but sometimes he would get randomly angry and kick someone's door down. We would report him, but the apartment was in pretty good quality and he charges cheap.

I opened the door, "Hey Chase! Good to see you!" It really wasn't but I was trying to be polite since he seems fairly angry, even at 7 am. At least he wasn't drunk.

"Here." He said gruffly as he handed me a paper.

I quickly scanned it and grew very angry. "Evicted?! Why the heck am I getting evicted?!" I practically screamed.

"The other residents in this building don't like you. They're threatening to leave if you don't. And I'm not having my best customers leaving because a cranky guy like you complains about them 24/7." He seemed very unsympathetic about the whole thing.

"I'm a great customer!" I snarled, "I've lived here for three years! I don't report you to the police when you stumble around drunk! All I do is complain when the stupid neighbors have raging parties at two in the morning and I'm trying to sleep!"

"Exactly, kid. You complain to me all the time. Nothing I can do. Freedom of speech or whatever. You're a constant pain in the rear. Plus, now more people want to live here and I can afford to increase rent. I'll be making even more money! See why it's best for me to evict you?"

"No, I don't! Of course, I don't! And I'm pretty sure it's illegal to kick someone out for no reason!" I snapped back at him.

Chase shook his head, "It's not. You signed the contract when you started renting this place. It said in the fine print that I could evict you whenever I felt like it. And you can keep the apartment for double the rent or leave. I'm trying to be reasonable with you."

"Double the rent? Are you insane?! That's way too expensive for a studio apartment!"

"So, it's settled then: you have 24 hours to get out. Good luck, man." Chase smirked and walked down the hall, leaving me bursting in rage.

I guess I'm not working today.

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I called my boss. He wasn't mad I was skipping work that day. He was never mad. I could practically do whatever I wanted at that company. They were all so thankful that I was working there (as I did the work of three people in half the time) and I was the best accountant. So instead of working, I was stuck with packing up all my belongings in boxes to stick into storage before I find a new place to live. If I could even. Washington DC was one of the hardest places to find affordable, safe apartments. Most apartments were either super pricy and high end, or awful for all of the addicts or poor sketchy people. There was barely any in between. And even if there was, it would still be very expensive because landlords knew they could charge it and people would still buy them.

I had to be very careful with my money now. I was technically homeless. All I had was my car. After packing all of my stuff up and putting it in storage, I started looking for a new place to live. I was right. The places were either like three thousand dollars a month, or five hundred dollars a month (pee smell included!). So, I made a rash decision: I was going to live in my car for the time being. Plus, it was time for a break from work. Maybe I could travel or something. Or maybe I could solve the Joshua Hallal case.

I called my boss once more. I told him I was going to be gone for a week. To get to the bottom of the House of Representatives Joshua Duncan story. And I needed help. I was going to find Erica Hale for the first time in ten years.
I also needed an excuse to see her again. This Joshua thing was legit. Despite how I said I had gotten over being a spy and her, I didn't. I thought of her daily, in her posh lifestyle and wondered if she thought of me. I missed her every day. I was still hung up on the past even though I tried to move on. I wanted my old life back.

So, at the local Starbucks, I tried to find Erica. Well, her house anyway. Just my running a mere google search on Erica Handler (Hale) millions of results come up. Her getting coffee. Talking with another celebrity at a gala. On Ellen promoting one of her charities. Walking down the street. But when I google 'Erica Handler House' multiple articles pop up, but they all say the same thing. Erica lives in a 16-million-dollar house she designed herself. They got the number from a contractor who worked on the budgeting and leaked the news, hoping to get famous. Instead, he got pegged with a hundred-thousand dollar fine for violation of privacy. TMZ first reported it, but they had no idea where it was. They guessed it was in California, but they didn't know much more than that. Typical Erica: She keeps her private life close to her chest.

But I was determined to find it. There was a good chance that when I get there, she would slam the door on me or forget I existed but I didn't care. I wanted to see Erica once again. Through some light hacking, I tried to get the address. There was no information at all on the web. I had a suspicion that it was part of Erica's doing. Using her past spy skills, she must have disguised that information about herself on the internet. According to Code and Hacking 101 at spy school, it was surprising easy to do.

But I couldn't find information. The only people who I knew had the address worked at the CIA and MI6. Audrey, Alexander and Catherine Hale.

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I attempted to go to Audrey first. The last time I had talked to her was the day we left spy school. We had quickly exchanged a goodbye and her friends whisked her away again. After the whole mission with the United Nations, she was allowed to be re-enrolled in the Academy of Espionage, despite the fact she worked with an enemy organization for a long time. I think the CIA was just worried they'd lose another amazing agent, so after some light questioning, she was let back in. And no one at spy school protested. In the end, she saved everyone along with the rest of us on the mission, so no worries.

But I couldn't find anything on Audrey on the CIA's website. This isn't a huge surprise because if you put an employee list for the United States' main intelligence agency, there would be no point in undercover work. I tried to hack the site, but the important data was well protected. So I went to the person who told me about Audrey's work in the CIA: Alexander Hale.

There was plenty on Alexander on the CIA's website. His accomplishments and awards. He had changed his number since I had it five years ago (CIA agents are required to change their number at least once a year) so I was trying to get his new one. Finally, through many back doors and some hacking, I found his most recent phone number.

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He picked up on the third ring:
"Hello? Agent Hale here." Alexander's official voice came through the speaker.

"Alexander?" I asked, intending to start talking. He cut me off though,

"Who's asking? Who is this?" his voice rang with suspicion.

"It's me, Ben." I said. I was technically not allowed to even say Ben Ripley aloud and since I was calling a CIA number (which are evidently all recorded conversations) I simply said my first name.

"Ben who?" Alexander asked, "Are you CIA?"

"Ben. Ben Randolph." I nearly rolled my eyes. For a CIA agent, he wasn't too acute.

"I don't know a Ben Randolph. I think you have the wrong number."

"Ben! Ben Ripley!" I yelled, exasperated, into the phone. The people in the Starbucks looked at me strangely.

Alexander gasped, "Ben Ripley? Oh my gosh, is this really you? Your voice is so much deeper than I remember! How long has it been? Three years?"

"More than three. A little more than five." I corrected him.

"That can't be right! It's been too long! Did you know Audrey joined the CIA three years after spy school closed?"

"I did. You told me that when I last talked to you."

"And did you know Erica is famous?" Alexander asked, a little giddy. Duh, of course I knew that. It was like asking if I knew the sky was blue. Everyone knew who Erica Handler is.

"Yeah, I do. Her face stares at me every time I buy milk at the grocery store."

"You're right, she is in the tabloids a lot these days. She's finally getting the recognition she deserves for all of her hard work, even if it is in an... ah unconventional way." The hard work? She should be getting peace medals, not People's Choice Awards. She barely had to do any work to become as famous as she is. Erica just has to look pretty and that's all the people care about.

"I guess so. Hey, is Audrey around?" I asked.

"Audrey? No, not around here. In fact, we're not even in the same building. Or country. I'm... on a very dangerous mission right now. My destination is... classified but I can patch you over to her. Why?" Alexander asked, sounding a little confused.

"I want to talk to her. I haven't in a really long time and I want to catch up. Also, there is something else I want to discuss with her." I specifically didn't tell Alexander about my ideas. I didn't know if I was just spit balling or if it was legit. I wanted to talk to the Hale sisters before I bring it up to anyone else. Plus, I wasn't too sure how Alexander would feel if I told him I was trying to find his daughter's address. It seems kind of stalker-ish.

"Oh, well, okay then, Ben. I'll connect your call with her. It was nice talking to you. Please call again soon! It was nice to talk to you. We should officially catch up sometime. I miss my little junior spy protégé!" Alexander offered a small laugh.

"What about Erica?" I joked.

"Oh, Dad took her. You're mine. Let's talk soon. I'll send your call over to Audrey." With that, I heard beeping on the other end, and then some ringing.

After the second ring, Audrey Hale picked up. I haven't talked to her in ten years, since spy school. All I know is that she joined the CIA again. That's it. Not what she did or what she does. Nothing. I now I'm going to talk to her.

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"Hello? This is Agent Hale." Her voice sounded the same from 10 years prior.

"Audrey? This is Ben Ripley." I didn't know should I say. I still had to technically use my fake name but I doubt she'll remember it, so I went with my real one. Since I was talking to a CIA agent, the line is secure anyway. Recorded, but secure. I might get in trouble soon. Because Audrey stayed with the CIA, she got to keep her name.

"Ben?!" You could tell how shocked she was through the phone.

I gave a weak chuckle, "Yeah, it's me. How are you?"

"How-how am I? How are you? I haven't heard from you in a long time! No one has!"

"What do you mean?" I asked. Who hadn't heard from me in a long time?

"Zoe, Mike, Chip, Jawa, Erica... All those people. You've barely reached out to any of your old friends. Zoe said you used to talk to her on Instagram. Now, she said you never talk to her or are even on Instagram. I wasn't totally sure you were even still alive." Audrey said the last part lightly, as a joke.

I chucked a little bit, "Couldn't you have figured that out with all your top-secret CIA technology?"

"I could have, but I'd seem like a stalker." She joked.

I couldn't believe that she was talking about my old spy school friends like they just talked. They weren't allowed too! We were already risking it by talking about spy school over the phone. Plus, Erica, Chip, Jawa and even Mike were all super famous now. How could she have their contact information, other than the fact she is CIA?

"How did you hear from all of them? I lost contact awhile ago." I said.

"Well, I obviously have Erica's number, I have Zoe's and somehow I spoke to Mike and Jawa from some event I went too. But no ones even heard from you."

I kind of tuned out everything after hearing Erica's name. Does she still remember me? Does she talk about me? Does this global celebrity think about me?

"Really? Erica talks about me?" I sounded way too giddy.

She laughed. It was a cheerful, nice sound.

"You still hung up on her? You and every guy in the country now it seems. She told me she gets at least twenty marriage proposals daily; some from guys she's never even met. Have you talked to her since... wow I guess ten years ago?"

"No."

"Do you want to?" Her voice was light and taunting.

I felt my face turn red and I was glad she couldn't see it through the phone.

"Anyway, don't you want to know how I got your number?" I tried to veer away from the subject.

"Oh, I know. Alexander patched you through, right? You know, CIA agents aren't supposed to give his number to people outside the CIA and family but he never followed the rules on that."

"Well, he actually didn't. I kinda hacked the CIA website. But speaking of Alexander, if you can tell me, where is he? He told me he was on a dangerous mission in another country."

Audrey confusion was clear through the phone, "Um... no, he's not."

I was confused too, "Really? He said you and him weren't in the same country and that he was on a dangerous mission."

"Yep, no, he lied to you to preserve his ego, like always. Old habits die hard, I guess. I was in the other country. I'm actually on a flight coming back from Syria right now."

"Oh," I chuckled, "That makes more sense. That's what he told me when I called him."

"But why did you call him, looking for me? It's kind of out of the blue. Just called to check up?"

"No actually, but it is good to hear from you. I have some information and a few questions about an old enemy and I thought getting help from a CIA agent would be beneficial. Plus, I need advice on how to proceed."

Audrey's voice turned very serious, "An old enemy? Hmm... interesting. Are you still in the DC area?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Then meet me in an hour. My flight is almost over. I'll come straight from the airport. I'll text you the address. We need to talk in person." Her voice took a serious, professional tone.

Without me even saying anything, she hung up.

A second later, a text from an unknown number came through. It was an address to this café in the outskirts of downtown DC. There was also a timer underneath the text. I assume the text disappears after the timer is over. I only had ten seconds left.

I quickly scrambled over to my desk and wrote the address down on a note pad. I felt a vibration on my phone and the entire conversation and number from Audrey completely disappeared. It was amazing technology. I guess I was meeting Audrey for the first time since the close of spy school.

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I sat at a table in the corner of the cute little French café in Washington DC and tapped my fingers. I checked my watch yet again. It's been an hour and twenty minutes since I talked to Audrey. I had been sitting in the shop for about a half an hour. The owner felt bad for me I think, since she thought I was getting stood up on a date, so I got a free coffee. There is a chance that I was being stood up, but I prayed that wasn't the case. Plus, Audrey didn't seem like the person to stand me up, although she worked for an enemy organization and almost killed me a few times. But she was coming, I think.

Finally, after an hour and thirty-two minutes, I heard the bell door ring. She was here.