Prologue

Cayden

It was cold, but I knew better than to shiver; and my body knew better than to disobey me. The caravan of Jeeps should have passed by now, and yet, I was still waiting. But I didn't mind all that much; not when I was doing what most people that had access to my file said I was born to do. And, I suppose, it could be true. Because I was one of the best. Or the best, at the risk of sounding a bit cocky.

When I was training at Quantico, I was the best at everything. I could do the math in my head and I could read a map and use my photographic memory to remember it. I could move with a silence that frightened even my instructors and tracking people wasn't an issue. My disguises were exceptional, even if I only had access to mud and grass and leaves. And, I had never missed a target. That's why people said I was the best. What they didn't know, though, was how I'd gotten that way.

And they didn't need to know.

The air finally got to my lungs and I let out a small sigh as I slowly reached for the small pack filled with the items that I always carried on missions like this. I took out a Ricola – lemon mint, naturally – and popped it into my mouth so that my coughing wouldn't give anything away. Not that I thought it would anyway, I was just being overly cautious, as always. Even though snipers are generally kept at a distance during battle, we're still at danger. Some groups send a select few soldiers out to search for snipers and take them out. We have to be careful.

Finally, I heard it: the sound of Jeep tires on the dirt path. I grabbed my binoculars and looked through them, smiling when I saw exactly what I'd been expecting. The Jeeps were all tan, and I knew that my target was in the backseat of the middle one. He was going to be tough to get to because he was in the middle of two guards, but I knew that I could do it.

I put the binoculars away and moved up slightly, making sure that I wouldn't be seen. Then, I pointed my sniper rifle and didn't bother looking through the scope; I didn't need to. I could judge the wind without any technological help and I knew exactly where I needed to aim and exactly when I needed to shoot.

Ten…

I gripped the gun a little tighter.

Nine…

The Jeeps rounded the bend and I adjusted my left hand.

Eight…

I adjusted my right hand.

Seven…

I tilted my head slightly to the right.

Six…

I peeked through the scope, even though I didn't need to, just to make sure that it was in the right position.

Five…

I put my head back at its original position.

Four…

I inhaled.

Three…

I held my breath.

Two…

I let out my breath.

One…

I pulled the trigger.

The shot couldn't be heard until after the bullet had already gone through the windshield of the middle Jeep, sending glass shards flying. All of the Jeeps stopped and I heard panicked yells as I took apart my rifle with expert precision.

"He's dead!" I heard and I felt a sense of pride. My mission was complete; I had done it.

I grabbed my rifle bag and began to run, moving swiftly and silently through the trees with my bag slung over my shoulders. When I reached the chopper, I threw my bag in the back and then got in and started it up, giving it the required amount of warm-up time before I led it up into the skies.

Almost instantly, a voice came over the radio. "Sniper One, is the mission complete."

I'd been Sniper One ever since the academy, no matter what mission I went on, I was always number one. Everyone always answered to me. "That's affirmative," I answered back. "I'm currently in the air, on my way back to headquarters."

"Good," said Mr. Irving. "We have another mission for you when you get back."

I had hoped for a couple of days off to just hang out and relaxed. I had fantasized about lounging in a chair, watching nonsense on TV or reading a pointless book that I would never use. But, no such luck. Snipers as elite as me were needed almost twenty-four-seven. "Yes, sir. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Copy."

I sighed and steered the helicopter to the left a few degrees as I wondered what my mission would be. But, I simply couldn't because there was a wide range of things that it could be. I'd been sent to kill targets as far away as Australia or Turkey, and I'd gone to a military base to train troops. I had helped protect the president more than once and had assessed sniper threats for a political rally. There was no telling what it could be.

I thought back to what I'd overheard my teacher from Quantico, Mr. Riggs, saying to the CIA and FBI directors. "There's just nothing I can teach this girl! Ever heard that phrase 'born in the saddle'? Well, this girl was born holding a sniper rifle! She's the best, I tell you; the best!"

I obviously wasn't born holding a sniper rifle. In fact, I had never even shot a gun when I was young. But I never let on. I let people assume whatever they wanted to about me. I'd heard everything from: she shot a tiger on a safari when she was thirteen! To: she's an ancestor of Annie Oakley! And I guess those things had always sort of made me feel good. Because I was finally the best: a legend.

No one had to know the truth about me and where I'd come from.

Joe

"Please, Joe?"

After all this time, it felt strange to be sitting across from Rachel Morgan, seeing her dark brown hair and green eyes. After all, every time that I saw her, I thought of Matt and remembered how I had been the one to tell Rachel that he was gone. "I don't know, Rachel," I said softly, looking down at the white mug of coffee in my hands. Normally, I added three creams and four sugars, but I hadn't this time. I guess I had thought that bitter black coffee fit the occasion.

"You're the first one that I thought of," she said softly. "You'd be good for them."

But I hadn't been good for Matt. He had been my best friend for a long time and I hadn't been able to protect him. Because I had been stuck at desk duty. I knew that I should have told Matt to stay behind until we could both go. But if I had been there, would it have made a difference? Or would we have both been captured and… and what? No one knew for sure if he was dead. There was no body. Still, it seemed like the biggest possibility.

"Would I?" I asked as I picked up my mug and then took a sip, letting the hot liquid trickle down my throat. I set it back down on the table. "I have to say, Rachel, I was pretty shocked when you called."

She gave a half smile. "Your number was hard to get a hold of, Joe. I called the agency and was put on hold for hours. Then, I had to talk to about twenty different people until I could finally get through to the director. When I told him what it was for, he couldn't rattle off your number fast enough. He said it would be good for you. He said the stuff you've been doing…"

She trailed off and I was glad. The stuff that I had been doing was dangerous and intense. I was busy all of the time, doing anything that was asked of me. I had gotten a reputation as a badass and people respected me, even the ones that were older than me. I was harder now. "Yeah," I said softly.

"I'm glad you met me, at least," she said. "It's good to see you."

"You too," I said, and it was. But it hurt, too. It brought back memories of Matt that I had done my best to keep out. "How's Cammie?"

Rachel truly smiled now. "Just like her father. She's so good at hiding…sometimes it scares me how invisible she can become."

I felt a pang. "Sounds just like him. Like Matt."

She nodded. "She is. Looks like him, too. In the face. Same structure."

I nodded slowly. "So you're honestly telling me that Buckingham wants out?"

"Says she's getting too old," Rachel said as she reached for her own coffee, wrapping her hands around it. "She begged me to find someone before next yea. Preferably right now, but she says that she can wait until the beginning of next year, if need be. She'll still be around for the younger girls and we're going to offer a new course soon, I think. History of Espionage."

We sipped our coffee in silence for a few moments and I thought about her offer. Teaching the girls of the Gallagher Academy. "I'll be teaching Cammie, then?" I asked.

"Yes," she smiled. "That's one of the reasons I want you there. For her. To teach her. I think you'd be good for her."

I nodded slowly and made up my mind. I was going to take the job because I was going to do my damndest to make sure that Cammie was ready. I wasn't going to let her get hurt like I had let Matt get hurt. I was going to push her so hard that she would be the best; she'd never get taken down. "Okay," I nodded. "I'll do it."

Rachel's smile widened. "Oh, good. We can get you a chopper by-"

But my CIA phone rang and I gave her an apologetic smile. "Excuse me."

"Of course," she smiled and gestured for me to go ahead.

"Solomon," I answered.

The voice was that of Mr. Irving, the CIA director; the one who gave me my missions. "Joe, we have one for you."

"When?" I asked.

"We need you to headquarters as soon as possible."

I nodded slowly. "It'll only be a few hours, sir."

"Good," he said gruffly. "See you then."

I hung up the phone and pocketed it with a sigh. "Sounds like Buckingham will have to last for the rest of the year."

Rachel smiled. "I'm sure she'll make it through it. Did you get another mission?"

I nodded. "Don't know any details yet, but I could tell from the sound of his voice that it's going to be a long one."

She nodded and stood up. "Well, I should get back to the school before dinner. Good luck, Joe."

I stood, too. "You as well, Rachel."

She smiled. "I'll be in touch." And then she turned and walked out of the small diner. I paid and then headed out to my own car. As I drove, I thought through everything that had been said. It was all still so surreal. Hearing her voice and seeing her after all this time…

Not that I harbored any romantic feelings for her. It just brought back memories. Memories of the best friend that had been taken away from me by the organization that I had used to be so loyal to. The organization that I had pledged my life to taking down.

And then my thoughts turned to the mission. I knew that it was no use trying to guess what it would be, but I tried to guess how long it would last and if I would be sent overseas.

Whatever it was, though, I would do my very best to succeed.