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I always expected my life to end the way it eventually did.

Until recently, the Devout States government assumed my name was Mary Elizabeth Milton, the low-income vixen maid of a high-ranking member of their Department of Defense. Little did any fur in Langley or D.C. know though, was that Mary Elizabeth Milton didn't even exist. My real name never mattered anyway, but to Beowulf--the Western Republic's greatest and most trusted spymaster back in Los Angeles--I went by only a single moniker: Songbird.

Ironic, given I was a red vixen, but whatever.

My undercover assignment began on September 9th, 2009. Over twelve years since the United States ceased to exist as a country to its citizens and half of the world. Twelve years since the American people traded away freedom of religion and freedom of thought for theocratic insanity. Twelve years since I was a little fox cub in Los Angeles, watching the newly inaugurated President, backed by his party and their majority-controlled Congress, declare the new beginning of our country. A rebirth of sorts, into the Devout States of America.

Twelve years since almost every state on the West Coast seceded into a country to resist the Devout military. Twelve years since the Second American Civil War began...and continued ever since.

My undercover assignment started off simple: alongside a dozen other sleeper agents, I would gather meager bits of strategic and tactical intelligence regarding my employer in the Devout's Department of Defense, then report back anything noteworthy. Whether it gave my handlers the advantage in a skirmish along the Disputed Zone bordering our countries or saved lives within the future didn't matter to them. Anything helped, even the kind of food that was served at dinners, if it meant allowing the Western Republic to survive another five years.

The world may not ever know who I was, my name or even my last thoughts before dying, but I made sure they would remember me. Thanks to my actions, the Republic and Canada would have time to prepare, even if for a couple days. Democracy would prevail.

My assignment went on for ten years. Each day I started my tasks of cooking and cleaning, I'd remind myself to focus on gathering information. Whatever interesting things I'd find would be encrypted into a coded text message, which would be sent directly to Beowulf for him to decrypt before sending the information to higher command. Rinse and repeat each week.

Then, what I came across changed the entire game. As soon as I found the folders left on my employer's desk in his den, then read them over before he returned to have a meeting, I feigned sickness and went to my room. Without much thought for the consequences of my actions, only resolve for getting the intel to them as quickly as possible, I messaged Beowulf what I discovered:

THIS IS SONGBIRD, DESIGNATION: GDROCKSTARLOVR. THIS MESSAGE MUST IMMEDIATELY GO TO ANCHORAGE COMMAND. WE HAVE A CODE BARBAROSSA IN PROGRESS. CANADA IS TO BE ANNEXED BY DSA SOMETIME THIS COMING WEEK. PRIMARY TARGETS ARE CALGARY, WINNIPEG AND EDMONTON. THIS IS CRITICAL.

Sent.

I did not sleep well later that night. Life continued as normal, even when I turned on the news a couple mornings later to find my intel was correct. Devout Army forces had taken Toronto, Montreal and Quebec Bay, while struggling to take control of the Yukon and British Columbia territories. Should those have fallen, then the Western Republic's capital of Anchorage would be defenseless. Even if the military fell back to defend Los Angeles or retreated all the way to Hawaii, the Second American Civil War would practically end. Everyone who resisted would be tried, executed and forgotten. None of that could ever happen.

I tried my best not to get myself involved with the news, not when my clients' family watched the news coverage as I worked, not when the eldest cub wagged her tail with glee at the thought of her best friend's older brother returning from service soon, not when the youngest asked me what the word 'annexation' meant exactly. Feigning a caring smile down to the wide-eyed, naïve wolf cub, I simply gave the bare-bones minimum definition and returned to my secondary job.

The news broadcasters eventually mentioned gains in the Northwest Territories, but only on the eastern side of the province. To my utter relief, the Yukon and British Columbia were still in Canadian military control, now assisted by the Western Republic in an effort to keep them away. My message had gotten through, but even I knew I couldn't show it. It would only be a matter of time.

When the Archangels finally realized a mole was responsible for the counterstrike by Canadian and Republican forces, I had been in the living room dusting a vase. I knew it'd be a matter of time until they realized my true loyalties.

An entire squad barged in without warning, surprising his wife and scaring the shit out of his cubs who were home from school for the summer. Two Archangels held me down while another aimed a Hellfire handgun to the back of my skull, no longer viewing me as the harmless housekeeper I portrayed myself to be.

"This is absolutely ridiculous!" his wife screeched to one of the Archangels, not long after she told the cubs to go to their rooms and after he explained my crimes, "My husband does extensive background checks on all of the help! She's been with us for years."

I held absolutely no pity for her or those brats unaware of their father's crimes.

"Ha! Traitor?" I could not help but boast, to her and to all of the real traitors that surrounded me, "That's a funny thing to call someone who was never on your side!"

"Silence!" The third Archangel struck the back of my head with the butt of his shotgun.

Unluckily for them, it gave me the opportunity to slip my fake tooth out from the back of my mouth. The one that carried a cyanide capsule in case I was eventually captured.

May the U.S. return one day. Until then, long live the Western Republic of America.