CIA – Central Intelligence Agency

Washington D.C.

Modern Day

The sleek, black limousine looked like it might have belonged to a visiting dignitary or ambassador. But as it pulled up to the foreboding, gray building, the person who stepped out was not who the guard by the door expected it to be.

A teenage girl exited the limousine. She was dressed simply, in dark slacks and a gray sweater. The clothes had been picked for a reason – they were casual and not very memorable. But the girl didn't need a flashy outfit to draw attention to herself. Ashleigh Parker had long, fiery red hair that could identify her across a room. She was also extremely pretty. Her delicate features could have belonged to a model or actress. But Ashleigh was neither.

The guard on duty outside the door was new. Actually, it was George Beck's first day on the job and he was extremely excited to have been trusted with such an important job. But had he been completely aware of his situation, he would have realized that he had back-up from all angles. Should anything even appear to happen that wasn't supposed to, he would be surrounded by experienced guards armed with automatic rifles. There were snipers that could get in position within seconds of a warning, and with the press of one button, the whole building would go into lockdown. But George didn't know this. He also didn't know the strange, red-haired girl that had just gotten out of the limo.

She walked up to him and smiled. He looked at her, confused. "What do you want, miss?" he asked politely. George had a young daughter of his own and prided himself on being "very good with children."

The girl looked amused. "I would like to speak with Mr. Peck," she said coolly.

George was stunned. How did she know about Mr. Peck? Even he hadn't known about the unofficial head of the CIA until a few weeks ago. But then again, George hadn't had this job a few weeks ago. "I'm sorry, you can't come in here. This is a top-secret federal building."

If you hadn't guessed already, George Beck was not the most intelligent of men.

"Really? I hadn't guessed. Where is Mr. Peck?"

"I can't tell you that, young lady."

George was becoming increasingly suspicious of the teenage girl. She began to look vaguely familiar – maybe she was a film star. Maybe she was Mr. Peck's daughter. No, no, Mr. Peck couldn't have a daughter, especially not one as pretty as this one. She must be a star of some sort. But what would a movie star be doing at the CIA? It was a very puzzling question.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes. She hated new guards. "Then at least tell him I'm here."

But before George could pull out his new walkie-talkie phone (with free long distance text messaging for the first month … if he ever figured out how to use it) and call up the front desk, who strode through the front door but Mr. Peck himself.

"Ashleigh!" he exclaimed. "So good to see you!"

The girl smiled smugly at George. "You, too, dad," she said with a grin in the guard's direction.

George Beck fainted dead away.