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interfering in his thought process.
    Edging her way around him, when she walked across his field of vision, Vance said...
    “ Bianca... There is something you can do for me.”
    She stopped, then turned to face him.
    “ Yes sir...?” Her voice rose in question.
    “ Be in my office tomorrow morning.... 0500.”
    Vance met her eyes, then he turned, heading to his office without a break in his stride. Bianca stared at his back, perplexed, confused; feeling like Dorothy when she woke, finding herself in Oz. She couldn’t begin to imagine why her boss would make such a strange request. Then she toyed with the idea that maybe he was finally ready to test her skills in a field exercise. She’d trained and with him as her mentor; she was more than ready. Or at least, that's what she'd persuaded herself to believe. In cases like this, one never knows. The testing provided the only true answer. One of her instructors had put it best. Field work is the place to show off your talents. Being seen, yet not seen. Unearthing that thing that eludes others. Overtaking your prey, without firing a single shot. These were the traits of an agent. Characteristics that defined a ghost. It would have been foolish of her to walk away, believing that she harbored these attributes because the only way too truly know, was if she’d proven herself. Vance knew this. She supposed he was finally ready to see what she was made of.
     
    ***************
     
    Chapter 3
     
    The plane landed, skidding to a stop, then pointing its nose where the ground crew directed it. Two days ago, after meeting Director Vance as requested; Bianca was sent to a handler, to prepare for her first field mission. Mission Director, Tate Cunningham; better known by most as TC. A quiet man with steely eyes capable of persuading Buckingham Palace guards to unhinge their jaws and talk. During a grueling one day session, TC prepared her to travel outside of the country. His role was pretty straightforward, but in the end, Bianca knew less than she’d known when she first met the man on the top floor of the building that morning.
    After doling out fake documents, a quick rundown, telling her about the person she would pretend to be. Bianca fell face first in her bed that evening. Only to wake three and a half hours later by her alarm clock. She was spirited away from her building by a man dressed in a turtleneck sweater, denim jacket and a pair of loosely fitted jeans. He didn’t have to introduce himself because she was certain that he was an agent, pretending to be a cabby. After taking her to the airport, the rest of the trip was nothing more than a blurry fuzz of this and that.
    Bianca replayed Director Vance’s words in her head countless times.
    “ First, I feel I must apologize for the way I’ve chosen to best utilize your talents. I understand that you’re fluent in three languages, and one of those languages is French.” He paused for a beat then he added. “Is that correct?”
    He stared at her expectedly, even though he knew the answer.
    “ Yes sir... That’s correct. I am fluent in French.”
    “ Good. Good.” He said, while tapping out a message on his computer.
    “ I also understand that you have a series of contacts in Canada and France. Is that correct as well?”
    She’d sat forward in her seat when she answered him.
    "Yes sir. My first cousin lives in Windsor. Her husband. Jean Marc; his family lives in Caen but presently he’s a Canadian citizen. He's a barrister." She added the point; thinking this was important to share. But Vance.... Well, the man sat quiet, contemplating if he was committing a horrendous mistake. After listening to her telling him about Canada and France... The question had been a rouse. He’d only wanted to put her at ease. Make her think that her multilingual skills would be needed, when in fact it wasn’t. But having confidence was important. In his business you rarely got more than one chance, and in this case he was