I M Not A Spy Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Are you a spy?!” “No.. no sir!” I reply, whimpering. “I am not a spy, I promise! I..i..I was just inquisitive! I did it just to satisfy my curiosity, I promise!” I yell out. At this point, my senses are clouded with fear and I am not thinking straight, so I know I have to do anything that would save me. “Who sent you?” He asks again; he clearly doesn't believe what I have just said about being curious. How am I going to explain this to him to make him believe I am not lying?!

Almost like they were seeing straight into my soul. “So you just happened to find yourself here?” He asked, his eyes holding an amused look on his face. He had a small smile on his face while he spoke. A part of me wanted to get as far away from him as I possibly could but I steeled my expression. I couldn’t afford to be so scared. “Yes. I’m not a spy, I promise.” I said again. He hummed, staring at me for a while before speaking. “Do you know who I am?”

“Oh, I’m not a spy. I heard what you said, but I’m not. If I was, I wouldn’t be here talking to all of you. I would be out there, searching for the people who killed him.” I raked my fingers through my hair, standing on my feet. Of all the scenarios, this talk would take a curve. The spy shit and involvement of the government is the one I fear most. The mafia is no better but the government; I don’t even know which one is the worst-case scenario. I hate that Nico is right.

The truth wasn’t welcome here. The woman crouched so that her face was closer to mine now, her perfume thick and cloying, her sneer sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you know what happens to spies in rogue territory, little girl?” she whispered, smiling like someone sharing a juicy secret. “They don’t get sent home. They don’t get ransoms. They disappear. Piece by piece.”

I looked at him from head to toe. He had little curly, dark brown hair. His skin color was a bit pale like the people who live in snow and his blue eyes were adding to his beauty. The dark red lips were like red strawberries which were visible from far away. And a tattoo on the side of his neck which wasn't much visible because of his jacket. But I saw a little tattoo on his wrist and it was saying,"I AM NOT MYSELF". I bet if anyone meets him for the first time, they will probably notice his dark red lips first. He was wearing a dark black jacket and a white t-shirt. His shoes were black and white sneakers and his jeans pants were also black.

I answered her question while trying to keep a clear head, not wanting to think more about Jenna or Kyle. I do not know what she has in stock or whether she is an enemy, a spy, or whatever else, but I won't let her extract information from my head just because of my silliness. "I'm not a spy and trust me in trying to block myself off from listening to whatever silly ideas you have in your head but it's hard to control. You are being too loud, I have no intentions to wage war against Anyone, I am not a spy and I work for no one to get that clear" she yells at me instantly.

he asked coldly. "Freedom!!! I want my freedom!! do you think running and hiding and struggling to live everyday is something I enjoy doing??!! do you think it's fun living in the shadows afraid to come out... afraid to trust anyone..not knowing who your enemies are....all I just want is to get out of this place for good and you'll never see me again... You think I'm a spy?!! You think I'm out to get you?!! you're the least person on my mind Currently!! this is just a coincidence that I'm meeting you here, I'm just looking for a way to get out of this country this night.

He’s not huge or tall, they never are. They need to be able to slip in and out of places unnoticed— blend in. I have a thing for spies, I guess, particularly Dune. Something happened last month between us. Actually, it’s probably all in my head. Which is why I’m an intelligence analyst, not a field agent—I over-emotionalize, get personal with people and situations. I care too deeply. Despite my basic combat training, I’d never be able to pull the trigger on anyone even if my life depended on it.

I stammered a little. “I am not the reason for his death. I escaped from the place. I don’t want you to know who Iam. Trust my words” “Go on,” motioned my hands. “I am not here in LA to study. I am on a secret mission or task which is highly confidential. I can’t share with anyone and…” “And…” I repeated. Telling it’s highly confidential is not an answer. I am not here for that. “I am a cyborg.”

But why can't I remember? "I don't think so yet." I politely answered, I can't say that he's familiar with me too because I can't explain it anymore and all the attention is on just the two of us right now. It will be a big setback for me. Why do I feel like I was a spy even though I'm not? Ugh, this feeling is not what I expect to feel.