Anything you recognize from the books are obviously not mine. The books did not happen in this story.

Longer Summary: By age five, Cammie already knew how to pick a lock and hide in the shadows. By age ten, she'd read some of top classified book on spy tricks and had mastered all of it. By age fifteen, she was one of the best spies of her age. When her parents die, all Cammie wants is revenge, but she has to figure who killed her parents first. Before she could even begin her investigation, her godfather, Joe Solomon, takes her to a spy school for young boys and girls, but Cammie has no interest in them or anything they could offer. Can Zach Goode break through to her and show her that living in the past isn't worth it?

Happy Reading!

xx Rioteer

Turmoil

Prologue: Memories

7 years of age

"That's silly," Cammie's mother rolled her eyes at her husband. He just grinned and continued to talk admirably about a new type of microwave. Her husband was quirky like that. He was one of the top CIA agents and could have most modern technology and then some without so much as taking a penny out of his pocket, but he also loved stuff any normal person would be happy with.

As Cammie's mother walked with her husband hand-in-hand, she looked around to check up on her seven year old daughter. Being a top spy had it's perks when it came to being the mother of a very intelligent and natural spy type of girl, but Cammie's mother seemed to have lost her daughter in the middle of a crowded mall.

Her daughter had been blessed with her fathers looks and personality, only taking a little from her mother. So while her mother stood out and her father blended in, that gave Cammie the choice to blend in or stand out. Most of the time, she blended in effortlessly. Better than most fully trained spies, actually. It was easy to lose her. Especially in a crowded mall.

"We lost her," Cammie's mom panicked. She wouldn't panic if she had to take on three fully grown, full trained men, but when her daughter was lost in a mall, she did. Cammie's mom gripped her husbands arm a little too tight-he winced but didn't stop her; she wouldn't listen anyway. "I knew we shouldn't have taught her that move! She'll be disappearing on us all the time now!"

"Relax," her husband consoled. "She's fine. Deep breaths; she's okay."

"Mama, mama!" Cammie's sweet little voice said from behind them. When had she turned around without them noticing? Cammie's mother embraced her, but Cammie gently pushed her off and held out a coin.

"I found this in the fountain," the little girl said excitedly. In her small hand was a rusty penny. Cammie's mother figured she got it from the fountain in the mall where everybody threw coins in for luck or for wishing, but she couldn't see a drop of water on her daughter.

"That's not nice. Now somebody's wish won't come true," Cammie's father scolded.

Cammie frowned. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Can we put it back? Will their wish come true then?"

Her Dad nodded and led her back over to the fountain, where Cammie dropped the coin exactly where it had been before. She clapped and smiled happily, because she was happy that someones wish had not not happened.

Cammie's mother smiled. Her daughter was one of kind, that was for sure.

13 years of age

"And what was the girl in the northeast wearing?" Cammie's mother asked her daughter after her soccer game. The question was hard, but most spies would know the answer, but Cammie still learned early one of the most important lessons a spy could learn-Notice things.

"A blue shirt that I would love to have and some shorts," Cammie stated. "She wore white sneakers that looked about two and a half years old and her hair was up in a ponytail. She looked like another soccer mom."

Cammie's mom smiled, but on the inside she was in turmoil. She had taught her daughter almost everything she knew about being a spy for the CIA and, having friends all over the world, practically every CIA-like agency's for almost every country. Her daughter knew things that less than 2% of the population knew. Her daughter was prepared and Cammie's mother only hoped she could cope if their plan hadn't worked and they couldn't keep her safe.

15 years of age- The day they disappeared.

Cammie walked slowly to her car after soccer practice, only to find that a man stood leaning on the car. She narrowed her eyes and acted like any normal person would.

"Excuse me, sir, do I know you?" Cammie asked, putting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow like her mother did with her Dad when he was in big trouble.

The guy didn't look fazed. He wore glasses and Cammie knew that he wasn't a regular person because she couldn't see through the glasses, meaning they were bulletproof (their spy ancestors weren't as smart as you'd like to think; I mean, really? Who creates bulletproof glasses?) because of how thick they were. She immediately kicked into her spy senses, which were excellent, and hoped the guy didn't notice that she was moving into a position where she could kill him in 54 different ways.

"You need to come with me," he said sternly in a Brazilian accent. Cammie observed him while she spoke. He didn't look Brazilian nor did that accent fit him. She knew he was lying.

"I don't even know you," Cammie stated, crossing her arms. "And if you can't even let me hear your real voice, I'm not going to stand around and listen to what you have to say."

The guy looked mildly surprised, but Cammie was used to that when she was around spies. Being so young and knowing so much...blah blah blah...

"Alright, fine, you got me there," the guy had dropped his accent and was talking in what Cammie assumed was his normal voice. "But I really mean it when I say you need to come with me. Your parents sent me."

"If they wanted to see me so bad, why didn't they call or come get me themselves?" she asked, not yet ready to leave with him, but she could feel herself giving into his request.

"Your parents can not call or be here with you right now," the guy said. "They are...preoccupied. I need to take you to a safe house."

"What do you mean by 'preoccupied'?" she asked. Now she was getting suspicious.

He sighed. "Can we deal with question at the safe house? I promise I won't harm you."

"What's your name?" she asked. She wasn't about to go anywhere with this guy without knowing his most basic feature.

"Joe Solomon," he informed her. "Get in the car?"

"I'm driving," she said happily. Before he could blink, she had managed to slip around him and into the drivers seat. Sneaky little thing. He'd have to do this the hard way.

When he slipped into the drivers seat, she was already chatting away about things. No matter how much home schooled of a spy she was, she was still a teenage girl and teenage girls love to talk. He sighed internally as he carefully slipped out a liquid sleeping drug in a needle.

"I'm sorry about this, but it's necessary," he said before sticking her with a needle.

"What's nece-" she was saying but then the drug, which spreads pretty quickly thanks to the agency in India who perfected the drug. She was out like a light.

Okay, so I know this is kind of boring now and all these slated words are annoying, but that's just to show past memories. I promise the story picks up in present day next chapter. That last memory was kind of present day. I hoped you like it and can bear with me till I get the next chapter out (which will probably be pretty soon). Leave a comment telling me what you thought?(: Thanks for reading!

xxRioteer