Chapter 3
Liz's POV
My name is Liz Sutton. 17 years old and abnormally short. I'm pretty normal, nothing really extraordinary. Well, except for my IQ which is 195. That's 34 more than Stephan Hawking and Einstein, and one higher than chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov. But apart from that, I'm normal.
I don't usually break into the school system, I sometimes do it for fun, just because the breaking into the Pentagon repeatedly can be boring and it's good to have a change. I open my beloved laptop and my fingers start to fly furiously over the well-worn keyboard. I watch as I break through numerous firewalls, shattering them in my wake. The school's system is terrible; they have only the basic firewalls to defend their information, firewalls that anyone with half a brain cell and with the instructions could break through in under a minute. 23 seconds later, the laptop screen blinks, filling the black screen with the luminous green numbers that together make up the code I was breaking through. I smile and lean back in my chair, 23 seconds. That's a new record for me. 2 seconds quicker than the last time. I watch as school files pop up onto my screen, hundreds and hundreds of documents showing the details of every single student enrolled at Gallagher. I scan for the document I want: my essay. I made a mistake on the essay I submitted last night, and I because I am OCD with a slight dash of perfectionist, I need to fix it otherwise it will bug me for the rest of the week. It's no big deal; I do this so often I could do it in my sleep.
I bring up my school file and cringe at my student photo; it's pretty terrible. I'm not the most photogenic person on the planet, which sucks especially as that is the photo on my student card, which means quite a few people can see it. I sigh and click on my most recent essay to bring it up. Instead of seeing four pages of typed up writing, all I see is a single box with the word, "REDACTED". Suddenly each pixel falls away from my screen, wiping my essay and my whole school file. "What's going on?" I whisper as I frantically type to try and recapture my file, trying to retain my information. I'm not quick enough. I'm left with a blank laptop screen. "What on earth!" I exclaim. My whole school file just disappeared. Reasons for redaction flash through my brain at rapid speeds; it can't be the school's doing, no way are the technicians at Gallagher are good enough to completely wipe a whole file remotely when it's currently open. Which means that this had to be external. But who would want my school data? I open the school directory to see if anyone's files have disappeared. The names flash by until I see one that's marked in red. Elizabeth Sutton. My breathing increases as other names pop up in red, Macey McHenry. Rebecca Baxter. Cameron Morgan. I lean back on my chair, my back aching from being huddled over a laptop for so long. I rub my forehead and blink, trying to understand what just happened and why files are missing. No one apart from the school is allowed to see them; it's for our own protection. Vulnerability. So this is what it feels like.
"What do you mean they're gone?" yells Macey as she paces the entire floor length of the girl's bathroom.
"Gone, disappeared, burnt into the atmosphere, they are gone Macey, what else do you want me to say?" I yell back. I don't usually raise my voice; I don't usually lose my temper. But after finding out that all the information on myself has now disappeared into the hands of who knows who has left me quite short tempered and frustrated. I found Macey almost immediately afterwards and dragged her into the nearest toilet. She was unwilling, very reluctant to leave the huddle of high school boys that had gathered around her, adoring her like the new queen. I sit on the counter, bending my head over into the palms of my hands. I tried to break into the code that was blocking my access, but I couldn't. This was the first time I have been beaten, and it was taking its toll of me. These people are good; their firewalls are solid and are nothing like I have seen before.
"So, you can't like magically bring it back by doing that weird hoodoo thing with numbers and your laptop?" I sigh and look back up at Macey who was now staring at me, her hands thrown up into the air in exasperation.
"You mean break the code? I've tried. That was the first thing I did"
"I thought you could break codes!" Macey retorts, almost shouting. I cringe at the thought of others hearing yet this is swept aside by my rising temper.
"Yes Macey, I can. But it's not a piñata, I can't just whack at it with a stick!" I'm shouting now. I never shout.
"Then what can you do huh? What can you do with that super brain of yours? Oh I'm Liz, I'm so clever I can do huge multiplication sums in my head in under a second and can talk in multiple languages, I'm so much cleverer than you." I start to see red. Of course Macey would go about this immaturely, trying to find a way to wind me up like she always does instead of focusing on the problem at hand here. I watch her twirl a strand of hair around her index finger, fanning herself trying to imitate me. I never fan myself I think to myself angrily. I stand there seething, my shoulders tense and my jaw locked. "What are you gonna do Liz? Go on, use that clever brain of yours!" That's it. She is so dead. I lunge forward off the counter towards Macey; hands outstretched, a sneer plastered on my face.
"What the hell is going on?" I stop suddenly in my pursuit and drop my hands to my sides. I peek up to see Cammie standing there horrified at the entrance to the toilet, her eyes darting between Macey and I with a furious glint in my eyes. She walks over to us, standing in between us to keep us apart
"We've been compromised." I roll my eyes at Macey's dramatic statement, she has been watching too many Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks this as Cammie lets out a chuckle and looks over to Macey, "not everybody's life is the spy life Mace." She shrugs her shoulder in reply and arches one perfectly manicured eyebrow at her.
"Why don't you ask Liz? It's all her fault anyway." I don't retaliate but raise my eyes up to Cammie to face her questioning gaze.
"I was in the school's account earlier and I saw our files disappearing leaving empty ones. So according to the school and the government, we do not exist anymore. They have been redacted, and someone god knows where has got our information, our identity. Who knows what they can do with that information? I have secrets, Macey has secrets, and Bex is the daughter of two agents of MI5 for God's sake." My voice drops. "We're vulnerable."
Zach's POV
"Couldn't leave that poor girl alone could you Z?" I turn my head around to face Grant grinning. "She looked really flustered, what was that Joe said to us? Try to make friends?"
"Nah, I don't think she was as flustered as you think."
Grant looks incredulously at me, "yeah whatever mate. It's not like she half sprinted down the corridor to get away from you."
"What's this? A girl who has resisted Zach's charms? Who is this? I wanna kiss her." I look to my left and see Preston walking beside us his bright smile mocking. I grin and slap the back of his brown head. "Oi! Watch it, I've still got concussion you idiot." My face falls slightly. Shit. I forgot about that.
"Sorry man. I didn't mean to, I forgot." The crowd of babbling teenagers sweep us up and we get bustled down the down to some brown double doors.
"No worries. Do you know where we are going?" whispers Preston. I shake my head in response. Just follow the crowd.
"Smile and wave boys, just smile and wave," mutters Grant, eliciting a small laugh from me. We enter through the doors into a grand hall with a high ceiling. I inwardly scoff; this place has nothing on the Pentagon. We are directed into a row next to some giggling girls.
No sooner as I sit down a sultry voice sounds, "Well, hello there handsome." I glance at the girl to my left and silently groan at the sight of her. Typical teenage high school girl; dyed blonde hair with so much make up caked on her face you can hardly make out her original features. I shrug her hand off my shoulder, "not interested honey." She sneers at me and whips her hair round leaving a cloud of overwhelming perfume in my face. "Oh God, what did she do? Dump a whole bottle of perfume on her head this morning?" Grant exclaims whilst pinching his nose together.
"Students of Gallagher."
My head whips up to the front of the hall where there is a stage set up. There is a row of chairs against the back wall where every teacher is sat. My eye scans along the faces, committing them to my memory. I see Joe sitting next to a grey haired woman. His face is impassive, his eyes subtly scanning the mass of pupils before him. His eyes lock onto mine and I nod slightly at him, trying to convey that everything is ok. His lips curve upwards in a small smile for a second and then just as it appears, it disappears. I continue down the line of the teachers, ignoring the droning voice of the Headmaster. My eyes latch onto another familiar figure sitting in the teacher's row.
"Sapevate che Abby veniva a scuola con noi?" whispers Preston.
Did you know that Abby was coming to school with us?
I look over to Grant, but he's as surprised as we are. Guess Grant didn't know his aunt was coming either.
"No. Ma sembra che ovunque Joe va, così fa Abby"
No. But it seems like wherever Joe goes, so does Abby.
I reply back in Italian, I guess we don't let our guard down easily. I smile knowingly at Preston. It's no secret to us that Joe and Abby have a relationship that is far from professional all the time. No one else knows about this in the agency, those only close enough to him or her catch the small inconspicuous glances, the innocent touches, and the unwavering loyalty to each other. It has never been confirmed, but us four always have had our suspicions.
"Learn the skills. Honour the sword. Keep the secrets."
The whole student body chants these words monotonously, their hands clenched in a fist held over their heart in a patriotic fashion. What? As soon as the words finish, rows start filing out of the hall, entering back into the deserted corridor. Guess we missed the motto. We follow the crowd again into the spacious corridor; different to the one we were in before.
"It's like a flipping maze," says Grant, his eyes roving over the endless doors and corridors splitting off.
"Who's got chemistry next?" asks Preston.
"I do." I reply. I like chemistry. I can actually do some of it, surprise surprise. Grant claps me on the back "see you later then."
With that, we walk down opposite ends of the corridor. I take a deep breath as my hand rests on the door handle to the lab. "Che cosa è la scuola ha ottenuto il venire colpiti eh"
What's school got on being shot at huh? Preston says hushed. I laugh at this, finding newfound confidence, and push open the door.
Cammie's POV
It's ok. Everything will be ok. I don't have secrets. My life has been an open book ever since my parents died. The authorities have all my details, all my life stories. I'm fine. It's the others I am worried about. We missed assembly. Nobody heard the bell over the shouting and arguing in toilet. I can see why they are so riled up. And now we have the added problem of telling Bex, and she's already stressed about her parents leaving for another mission. There was a good five minutes arguing about who should be the one to tell Bex. I guess I have the honour of doing that. The information in Macey's file could be especially damaging to her and her family. Her father is the American ambassador to France; imagine what blackmail and selling of Macey's information could do to him? France and America's relationship could be ruined if something was leaked and tweaked to look offensive. And Liz! Liz is one of the cleverest teenagers in the world. Someone is bound to take an interest in her. Even the CIA has repeatedly tried to recruit her, but Liz is having none of that, she's determined to live a normal life. I can't help thinking that if you have an IQ of God knows what, you will never be able to live a normal life, but Liz is adamant that no secret organisation snatches her up before she finishes school. Bex. Well, her situation is self-explanatory. I had no idea I had been wringing my hands until a snipe voice cuts into my thought process.
"Nervous or something?" God. Newbie just had to arrive right now didn't he? I glare up at him sharply but can't help but melt slightly at his stupid gorgeous smirk.
"That seat is taken." I keep my voice clipped so that he can't read anything from me. I don't want him to know that I'm angry beyond belief and breaking down with worry.
"Not right now it isn't. Someone has got your panties in a twist since I've last seen you," he replies, seating himself down and dropping his files down on the desk with a loud thud. He looks across at me with a triumphant and amused smile. I glare back before dropping my head into my hands preparing myself for 50 minutes of oncoming torture.
"Oh God." The words were out before I even thought about saying them.
"No," he replied with a smug grin, arching one perfect eyebrow. "But close." I'm breathing heavily and surprised that I haven't slapped him by now.
"Just shut up, I've had my quota of asstards for today." I say my voice muffled by my hands, I don't bother with a please and thank you. It probably wouldn't even register with him. I really don't need a boy who thinks he's God's gift to the world sitting next to me deliberately trying to rile me up.
"Woah, okay. I get it. That time of the month I see." That's it. This is the moment where newbie turned from slightly nice guy to every other ubiquitous jerk I met in high school. God, I don't even know his name and I hate him. Why do all the attractive guys in school have to be jerks? I open my mouth to retort with a snide remark but was stopped as our new teacher saunters into the class. Oh great. Mr Creepy-Ass-Solomon. Just my luck. First lesson is chemistry, which I am terrible at, with a new teacher who looks at me like I'm a target, sitting next to a boy who doesn't know when to shut up.
"What is the chemical test for the positive ion Fe 2?" Mr Solomon walks to stand at the front of the class, his hands clasped behind his back, his body language exerting confidence, leadership and overbearing power. His questioning gaze travels across the class to land right beside me.
"Mr Goode? Do you have an idea?" Surely this teacher knows that we haven't covered chemical analysis yet, of course no one knows anything about this topic. I feel slightly sorry for newbie; he's just been asked an impossible question.
I watch as he lifts his green eyes up to the teacher. "Add sodium hydroxide to the solution of the compounded ion. If a grey green precipitate is formed, then the positive ion is present. If not, then it is not present." My mouth slacks open. I groan inwardly, to add to newbie, he's a chemistry whiz kid. Great.
"Good job Mr Goode." Mr Solomon presents newbie with a small smile and turns to face the blackboard, his chalk creating numerous equations with ions that get lost in my mind.
"Impressed Blondie?" Newbie whispers his husky whisper in my ear sending shivers down my spine. I turn my head away from the blackboard to face him. His face comes too close to mine, but I decide to stand firm.
"Not really. You are probably just a layer of brains wrapped under a coat of muscle and then sexual stupidity". His face morphs into one of mock horror and shock as his hand comes up to his perfectly sculptured mouth. "I'm wounded!" I giggle slightly at his theatrics, earning a few looks at our direction. I sigh and shake my head slightly. I look back up to the board to find it covered with white letters and numbers meshed together to form the most complex web of analysis I have ever seen. I look away for one minute and this guy fills an empty blackboard with dozens of equations.
"Shite," I mutter under my breath. I look across to newbie's book and see it filled with the writing on the board. He's focused on his book, his pen scratching across the page writing down his thoughts and ideas as to solving the ionic equation. I grab my pen and uncap it, popping the end into my mouth from habit as I study his page and start to write down notes from his work.
"Do you mind?" he asks looking down at me. I smile sheepishly, like I've just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar and look down at the desk.
"Sorry," I whisper and look back up at the board in an attempt to understand ionic bonds. My eyes rove over the words and numbers but I can't unravel the meaning. I hate chemistry.
"Struggling?" His voice is getting on my nerves. "It's easy, I'm surprised you haven't got it." His condescending tone is patronizing and infuriatingly annoying. "Maybe you should ask for extra help." I am at the end of my tether.
"You know what newbie? Go to hell." With that I swing my arms back to my side, accidently knocking over the two bottles of sodium hydroxide on our desk. My hands fly to my mouth as I watch the liquid spilling over all our work, the ink on newbie's page blending into a mush of colours.
"I'm so sorry!" I gasp as I run across the lab to get tissues from the wall dispenser. By now, the whole class is watching me as I run back to the desk with a bouquet of tissue paper mopping up the chemical. Newbie copies my actions as we try to clean up our desk. I carry on cleaning until I feel his hand on arm gripping me firmly as if to say, 'stop'. I look up at the lab to see twenty pairs of eyes staring at us in dead silence. I smile back confidently. I have always been one to take embarrassment in my stride. Other people wish that the ground would swallow them whole but I typically make a point to hold my head high. I throw my hands up in a way to say 'oh well' and collapse back into my seat amid giggles and laughter from my classmates. I look at Mr Solomon to see a small smile gracing his features, but his is directed at newbie who's giggling at my antics as well. The lesson restarts and I subtly lean over to newbie, "I hate you, you know." I right myself on my chair. He leans over to me.
"I hate you more Blondie." I laugh.
We didn't talk much after the incident in chemistry. Newbie allowed me to copy notes off him, since I couldn't understand Mr Solomon's teaching. We worked in mutual silence until the bell rang. I jump out of my seat, eager to leave the Chemistry room and get onto my next lesson, Trig. Now, numbers I can understand. Numbers make sense. It's the only language in the world that can be understood by all, a bit like Esperanto but easier. I walk out of the lab straight into a person. My face collides with their hard chest and all I can think when I collapse to the fall is my god this person is tall, and incredibly muscular.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" Great, another boy, please don't let him be insufferable. I open my eyes to look at this guy, who's holding out a hand for me to stand up. Ok, he's polite. Good start. He could have just laughed and ran away. I take his hand and he gently pulls me up. "That's the second time I've seen you fall today," he laughs, a gentle rumbling tone.
"You're in my form class?"
"Yeah, Grant Morgan at your service ma'am." He does a fake bow, his blonde hair flopping in his eyes.
I giggle, "so you're the other Morgan running about these halls then."
"There are two Morgan's here?"
"Yeah. Me. Cammie Morgan at your service sir." I mimic his bow. He laughs and we continue walking down the corridor.
"Interesting, we aren't related by any chance? Long lost cousin or something?"
I try not to let my sadness show as I reply. "Uh. I wouldn't know. Don't know my family." He looks at me curiously, his head cocked to the side as I smile awkwardly at him.
"Grant!" A voice filters down the corridor and makes him turn his head. "I, uh," he pauses. God, this is awkward. "I'll see you around then Cammie."
I smile sweetly back at him, "yeah Morgan, see you around." He winks, turns and then runs full pelt down the corridor, his bag flying out behind him, his arms waving people out the way. I silently laugh at this guy's behaviour. Maybe these new guys aren't all douches. I've met two out of the four. Newbie, whose name I still don't know is, well, I don't know. He was hot and cold during chemistry, being genuinely nice and ok one second and then really pissing the next. I walk into the Trig classroom and smile warmly at the teacher, Mrs Allen. She's lovely. I sit down at my desk and take out my maths file to start doodling in it. I let my black pen swirl over what little blank space there is on the inside of my file and wait for the lesson to start.
"Miss Sutton! Are you alright?" My head snaps up at the mention of Liz. She looks dishevelled, her face is flushed with pink, her hair no longer in its neat bun but tendrils escaping and falling into her face.
"Uh, yes. Mrs Allen, I'm fine. Thank you." She walks down the classroom to sit beside me in the chair.
"Are you ok? You look pretty flustered." I pull the hair away from her face and tuck it back into its normal bun, and rub her shoulders. She's breathing heavily and I can see that tears are swimming in her eyes. 'What happened?"
"Cammie," she whispers. "I've found out who hacked us. And it's bad. I mean, I don't understand why. They would be interested in me, they have expressed their interest in me before, but why all four of us? Have I dragged you into this? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She rambles on, muttering under her breath and I can barely make out a word she is saying. My breath hitches and my heart is pounding, but I stay calm. Someone needs to stay calm out of us lot and Liz at the moment isn't doing so hot.
"Ok. Who is it?" Liz tears her gaze away from the front of the classroom to look at me. "CIA."
A/N: A whole load of words here. Thanks for reading!
