Crack the Code

I throw clothes into my gray suitcase in frustration. The ONE time that I’m not supposed to have a mission, that I’m not forced, by my parents, to work in the Intelligence Division of The Special Arrests Agency. This was supposed to be that one vacation, and trust me. I need this. I’m the youngest person to be a spy for ID, which is what we call the Intelligence Division. And my mother has been promising me, since I was eight and started working for this organization, that on my eighth grade trip to Washington DC, she would let me leave all my spy stuff behind, and relax. 

But nooooo. No, because there was a threat against the president, and since I just happened to be going to DC for my eighth grade trip, the responsibility to protect him fell on me. Like always. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like the president. He’s a great guy. I’ve protected his sons and grandchildren many times. He likes me. I’m not famous or anything, I just made sure his granddaughter wasn’t killed in a terrorist attack, or anything else directed at her. Anyway, I just don’t want my trip to become some whole thing where I have to get my best friend to cover for me, and then sneak off the trip, and miss everything I’ve been looking forward to since I was seven and we visited DC for the first time. 

Now, Washington DC might seem like a very random place to be looking forward to for seven years, but when I was five, I decided I needed to become president. Like, really NEEDED it. And since our country is so messed up and no woman has ever been president, I became even more determined. 

“Natasha! Are you all packed?” My mom called, walking into my room. 

“Why are you so excited to send me on my death mission?” Oh, right. Did I forget to mention that this is going to be the most dangerous mission I’ve ever been on? Yeah. These bad guys I’m saving the president from? They also want to kill me. And my friends that I’m going on the mission with. So no, not dangerous at all.

“Nat, calm down. This is not your death mission. You are stronger than these guys, and I know you can probably defeat them. Plus, Sage, Clea, and Parker are going to help you.” Mom said. I rolled my eyes. 

“I love her, but Sage doesn’t know what she’s talking about, and Clea is the smartest person I know, but terrible in combat. And who the hell is Parker?” I asked. 

“Language, Natasha. Parker is an elite agent. He is smart, and definitely knows what he’s doing. You are going to follow his lead and trust him. Understood?” 

“How old is he?”

“Fifteen.”

“He’s only a year older than me. What age did he start?”

“Ten.”

“So I’m more experienced.”

“Natasha,” My mom said in a warning voice.

“Fine. I’ll trust him and follow his lead.”

“Good.” She said, and I knew this was the end of the conversation. She left, and I finished packing. I groaned, and picked up my phone to call my best friend.

“Guess what?” I said immediately when she picked up.

“What?” Flynn asked. 

“My workaholic mother is trying to turn me into her.”

“Elaborate?”

“She’s sending me on this mission while we’re in DC.”

“But you’ve been looking forward to this trip since we were little!” She exclaimed. 

“Exactly what I told her! Thank you, Flynn.”

“Of course.” We were silent, and I waited for her next question that followed every time I told her about a mission. 

“How dangerous?” Everytime she asks me this, I keep the answer below a seven, even though it’s usually an eight or nine. This particular mission is definitely a fifteen out of ten. 

“Five. I’ll be fine. It’s just frustrating.” I lied. I hate lying to Flynn, but I hate worrying her more. She already worries about everything, from school to her soccer practices, to sleeping enough and eating well. 

“Good. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” I lied again. 

“Okay. I have to go now my mom is calling me for dinner. See you tomorrow on the bus to DC!!” She said, and we hung up.