It was a hot muggy june day. He smiled inside. Everyone thought it was another horrible day. His beautiful soon-to-be fiance walked out onto the porch of their new home shaded from the blistering heat of the morning sun. He laid a long kiss on her beautiful cherry red lips. He whispered in her ear, like lovers do, "Do you remember what happened nearly twelve months ago?" He asked, fully aware that she did. She whispered back playing along,"What happened?"

Why Marian Paroo!" he carefully placed his foot behind her's he leaned towards her and she gently fell back into his arms. He continued ,"That was when I met and totally fell in love with you. Before you I left a string of broken hearts all across Illinois. but then I met you and I couldn't get my foot out the door and thank goodness I did! I will never leave you Miss Marian my beautiful librarian."

"Oh yuck! I've neever heard thuch dithguthting wordth in all my life!" Winthrop's voice cut the romantic atmosphere in billionths with his characteristic lisp.

"Winthrop! Where are you?" Marian screamed obviously pushed to the breaking point of aggravation.

"Sweety," Hill started only to be ignored. He started again a little louder,"Sweaty," again being ignored he yelled,"Marian!" Finally getting her attention he continued,"leave the boy alone. He'll come out , then we'll have a good talk with him," as Harold said these comforting words to his beautiful Marrian, the little Winthrop popped out of his elusive hiding place. Being concerned for his well being harold nonchalantly motioned for Winthrop to leave, quickly.

The day started normally enough the relentless teasing of Marian by little Winthrop and his quick retreat. However a frantic knock at the door changed all that.

Hill answered the door to an old familiar face.

"Antony? What are you…" Hill started before being cut off from the visitor.

"Greg you gotta get out they found the list!" He frantically whispered.

"Who are they?" Harold asked.

"Russians, Germans I don't know but they got our covers, the safe houses, everything."

"Antony we need to go!"

At that second a whizzing sound hit Antony square in the temple. He dropped to the porch with a loud "thud." Harold slammed the door and bolted for his room.

In his room he looked under the bed and grabbed his suitcase. In a hurried rush he threw in clothes haphazardly.

Marian slowly walked up to the door of his room dreading "this day".

"What's going on?" Marian asks with her head hung fighting back tears.

"I don't have time to tell you," He explained pulling out a false bottom of his dresser drawer. "But you need to remember I love you!" He said as he procured from the drawer a wad of cash and Browning 1903.

"The ladies talked about this day." She said still suppressing sobs from her throat. Harold looked at her with questioning eyes. " The day you would leave." She couldn't help herself. She exploded in tears.

"Oh no! No it's not what you think this is!"

"You're not leaving?" She asks her soul rising slightly.

"I have to leave. But I will return, for you."

She runs to him and they embrace. Time seems to freeze. In this instant, they are one being fused together by love. But secrets cannot be kept from one another like this. Harold knows he will have to tell her.

But not now he thinks I can't put her in harm's way. I won't be able to forgive myself if something happens to her.

"I need to go. For me, for you, for us." He leaves.

She sits down on his bed, weeping. She picks up an ID card with the name printed in bold font


The rifle barely recoils, and not a sound. The accuracy was phenomenal, one bullet right to the left temple. The Germans could really make a gun. The gunman detached the silencer from the rifle. And took apart the rifle piece by piece, putting it in an already weighed down suitcase. This was by design, it was much easier to hide weapons under the guise of an anvil salesman. A name sprawled across the suitcase:


He retrieved a paper full of names, most crossed off. He added a new name to the list of the crossed off: Antony Novena: American Spy. He read the next name: Gregory Thomas: the infamous Harold Hill.