Chapter 1

Some people think that secret agents may never fall in love, especially with the richest and most beautiful girl in town.

Well, they're wrong. And I'm here to tell you my story.

My name is Percy Jackson, and I work for the F.B.I. here in New York. That may seem weird considering that I'm only sixteen, but my life is definitely weirder than most people's, and it only got weirder when I met the girl of my dreams.

Let's start at the beginning of the day, when I went to check out something that the F.B.I. had been suspecting for a little while in a dark alleyway right off Sixth Street. I heard voices as I approached the end, carrying my pistol in my hand. Yeah, I have a pistol. I guess that would be cool to most teenagers.

I soon saw that the voices belonged to two scraggly-looking men, and I ducked behind a trash bin to avoid being seen. Then I listened closely.

"We're going to be rich I tell you," said the first man, who had oily brown hair and a beard that matched his ripped-up trousers. The second man, more dangerous-looking, had tattoos and two earrings that caught the light reflecting from his shiny bald head. That didn't help him trying to hide.

"Ya sure the plan's going to work, Barnabield?" the man with the earrings replied.

"Of course, Ernie. You're going to take down the guards, remember?"

The man named Ernie grinned.

"Well, come on, we haven't got all day," Barnabield cackled. He started to walk toward me, who crouched deeper in the shadows, ready to meet the men when they approached.

The first man, Barnabield, reminded me of a crazy scientist trying to do something even more crazy, and Ernie reminded me of his willing (but very stupid) assistant. I believed I could take these two down, but I didn't have much time to think about it. In seconds, I had jumped in front of the men, startling them out of their wits.

"Aah!" Barnabield shrieked. Then he started to grin, narrowing his eyes. "It's just a kid, Ernie. And a pretty stupid one, I'll bet ya."

But Ernie wasn't listening. He glared at his partner. "I told you not to call me Ernie, remember? My name is Death Ray!"

"Well, this man sure doesn't seem to think so," I said, pointing my gun casually at Barnabield. I noticed the two men were staring at it, and I pretended to just realize that it was in my hand. "Oh, right. I have a gun. You better put your hands behind your head before I use it."

Barnabield laughed. "You think we're scared of you, boy? Death Ray here is twice as powerful as a gun, and he uses his bare hands!"

'Death Ray' inched closer like a hungry animal. He tried to make a grab for me, but I flipped out of reached, right onto his back.

Being in the F.B.I. allowed me to have some pretty useful skills. Ernie ran around, confused as to where I was, but I wrapped my legs around him and pointed my gun at his head.

"Now, put your hands behind your head," I demanded.

"Never!" Barnabield protested, though I could tell he was nervous. "I-I have weapons that you couldn't dream of, boy!"

"Oh, really?" I asked. "Show them to me."

Ernie started to shake, seeming to just notice that I was on his back. "Get off me, kid!"

Steam was practically coming out of Barnabield's ears. Growling, he made a move toward me, his hands outstretched, but at just that moment, my backup had arrived.

"Hold it right there!" said a furious man's voice. Barnabield froze.

"B-B-Barnabield?" Ernie croaked. "P-P-Police."

"Oh, stop stuttering, you old fool," Barnabield mumbled. But he, too, knew that it was already too late.

I climbed off Ernie's back to meet my boss, General Corral, who was already directing his agents to take away the two criminals. He turned to me, a smile playing on his lips. "You did well, Percy," he congratulated. "I didn't think you could pull this off."

"You shouldn't have doubted me, sir," I replied, grinning.

"So, is it as we suspected? Were they going to try and rob the bank?"

I nodded. "You bet. They had just finished their genius plan, of which Ernie - the man with the tattoos - would take down the guards…"

General Corral had to laugh. See, there were fun perks to being a secret agent; it wasn't guns and secrecy all the time. But little did I know that my life would soon take a startling turn.

"Come, Percy," General Corral said, leading me back toward the big black F.B.I. cars. "We shall celebrate while my agents question those two men."

And so, when we arrived back at our base, the struggling Banabield and Ernie were taken away while my boss led me to his office. He sat down in his high-backed chair and motioned for me to sit across from him.

"Donut?" he asked, pointing to a small brown box.

I nodded and took out a rainbow sprinkle, then sat back and said, "So… I wonder what other crimes there are going to be this week."

General Corral shrugged. "You know, attempts at robbing banks, stealing things…"

"The usual. But always attempts."

General Corral smiled. "You've got spunk, Percy. I'm glad I have an agent like you."

Yeah, well, I thought. That wouldn't have happened if…

I suddenly got reminded of the past. It always made me go kind of crazy, so I decided to excuse myself, shaking. "I… I think I'll get some rest," I told my boss. "See you in the morning."

General Corral frowned. "Is everything alright, Percy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

And so I stumbled up many stairs of which other agents were going up and down from, but they never really talked to me. I was just the teenager, the strange sixteen-year-old that started to work for New York's secret agent force one day.

I suppose I should tell you about my past.

I was once a normal kid, who lived with my mother in the Upper East Side. We didn't have much money, and lived in a simple apartment, but I didn't care. My mother always made me feel like I was special.

She worked at a sweet shop in Central Park Station and brought me blue candy home every day. It was because my favourite colour was blue, and it still is, because it reminds me of her. But one fateful night, when we were watching a movie and my mother went into the kitchen to get more popcorn, I heard a scream and… and found her dead.

I looked up only in time to see a black figure run away, so I knew that she had been murdered. But I never told anyone that, because I ran away, out onto the streets while the police searched my apartment. They didn't know what happened, or where poor little Percy Jackson went.

I had lived on the streets, as a homeless nobody, until the F.B.I. found me. General Corral, actually. "Are you lost, boy?" I remember him asking. I simply replied, "I don't have a home." And from that day on, he took me in. I didn't want to talk about my past, and thankfully, General Corral didn't ask about it. I took on a whole new identity as a secret agent, and a young one, of course.

And now here I was, stumbling into my bed. General Corral had given me a little room to sleep in, since I had nowhere else to go. I never expected my life to change so much. But I didn't know that it would soon change again.