Chapter Two: Unnamed
Narrator POV
Parker Jennings was not a normal girl. Sure, she acted like a normal girl, talked like a normal girl, and looked like a normal girl. She went to school and got perfect grades, yet she was always unsatisfied with her life. Everyday she was constantly reminded of the things that she didn't have, but everyone else took for granted. Things such as a family, a home, a name. Yes, Parker Jennings was a girl without a name. Actually she had a name, but very few people knew it. To these people, she was Parker. To the rest of the world, she was now known as Kylie Davis, at least for the time being. She had had so many names in her life that it was hard to keep track of all of them anymore. Every time she was forced to move to a different city, or even a different country, her name had to change too.
Right now she was living in New York City with her guardian, Red. She didn't have a family, not because they were dead, but because they thought she was, if that makes any sense. When Parker was six years old, her dad got involved with some pretty bad people. He wasn't a criminal, but a private investigator. He was working on a case when he stumbled upon a German terrorist cell based right in the United States. The terrorists found out about this and decided to give him some incentive to get off of the case. One day, he walked into his office where his secretary handed him a blank manila envelope. Inside was a note:
If your daughter ever wishes to see her seventh birthday, we would advise you not to get involved in affairs that don't concern you.
Signed,
The Schlechte Burschen
This note was accompanied y several pictures of her at school, home, and playing at her friend's house. Mr. Jennings was scared to death for his little girl. He refused to ever let anything happen to her. Being a private investigator, he had many contacts in the government. He quickly called Red, a good friend, and the head of the Chicago office of the CIA. Within eight hours, they had come up with an elaborate plan to make sure that no one would hurt her. Their plan was this: fake her death and blame it on the terrorists that threatened to hurt her in the first place.
From that day on, Parker Jennings ceased to exist.
She was a shell of a girl who took on whatever appearance suited Red at that particular point in time. Sometimes she was a goody-goody two shoes who wore pink every day. Sometimes she was the star athlete, or sometimes the preppy cheerleader. But no matter what role she played, everyone always knew that she didn't quite fit in. She never had any real friends. No one really knew her, so she never felt the need to get close to anyone.
The only people who knew her were those whom she worked with. Parker Jennings was a sixteen-year-old CIA agent. She could get into places that no one else could. She was able to get close to sons and daughters of suspected terrorists, brilliant scientists, and diplomats. This was a huge advantage because kids are must more trusting than adults, and adults are highly unlikely to suspect a child.
The CIA saw this and took an advantage of it.
Parker's POV
"Red, I'm home!" I called out to the empty apartment. Oh well. I dumped my schoolbags in my bedroom and went into the living room. I was about to flip on the TV when I spotted an angry red file sitting on the coffee table. Naturally, I just had to open it. Taking a quick glance around to make sure I was truly alone, I eased the cover of the file open.
Oh, It's just the Mastriani case. I sat back and began to read.