Liar, Liar

Ashling Rixon is a compulsive liar. Always has been, always will be. Well, as far as she can remember, anyway. You'd think this would be a problem when it comes to work and everyday life, right Not quite.

Ashling is a hacker working against the government for her own agenda. Not to mention the fact that she has bad ass ninja skills and access to any and all weapons.Oh, and then there's the fact that she could kill you with her index finger. You probably shouldn't mess with her.

She on a quest to get her memories back, and she sure as hell is going to succeed.

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1. Prologue

 

                Hello, my name is Ashling Rixon and I am a compulsive liar. My therapist said it's due to the fact that I 'struggle to show emotions and have trauma in the past I refuse to address' , but I think that's a load of crap.  And he wonders why I snuck into his practice and painted it pink. Well, no he doesn't. But that's probably to do with the fact he didn't know it was me.

                I'm not entirely sure why I lie. The majority of the time, it doesn't make me look better or worse than I actually am. Although, it does come in handy in my life. A lot more than it should really.

                Maybe I should explain.

                I'm a hacker. Not the general career path for a seventeen year old girl, but hey, I'm unique.

                You see, my Uncle used to work for the British Secret Service. Not in the cool, James Bond, awesome cars kind of way. No, he sat in an office all day, trying to gather information from people who were thought to be enemies of the British Government.  I'm not entirely sure which branch of the Secret Service he was a part of, but he refuses to tell, so it must be pretty top secret.

                Like I said, he used to work for them. Now the problem is, getting out of a job like his isn't easy. It's pretty difficult . Like, faking your own death difficult. Which happens to be exactly what he did.

                I know what you're thinking. Why would you want to get out of that job? After all, it's not like it was rather strenuous or boring. It's not like the particular work he was doing for the government was life threatening.

                That's where you're wrong.

                Being a hacker isn't easy. One tiny mistake, a small slip up and bam. Your location has been compromised. Everyone knows where you are. And not everyone is nice.

                My uncle made a miniscule error, and all of a sudden he was being hunted down. His life was at stake. But that wasn't what bothered him. It wasn't just him that people were after. His pregnant wife was also in the firing line.

                They were both put in protective custody for a couple months until 'the threat had passed and they were no longer in danger.'

                Bullshit.

                There's a difference between waiting patiently and giving up. One that cost my Uncle everything.

                They got new identities, a new life and my Aunt got shot. It was fatal. Both her and the baby were dead. That was when my Uncle got out.

                I think the Government believed he died too that day. After all, he did a pretty good job at spreading out enough forensic evidence to make them believe that was the case.

                The truth is, he moved to Wales and set up an online help site for those struggling with technological difficulties. Fancy, I know, but it pays the bills.

                To say he was shocked when his nine year old niece turned up on his doorstep with no recollection of her past, was a understatement . Especially when he strongly believed no-one knew where he lived. Or that he lived.

                Since then I've stayed with him. He taught me how to hack and pretty much everything else he knew. Which is a lot.  

                All I can say is, you really shouldn't mess with me. I have pretty epic ninja skills if I do say so myself. Oh, and there's the fact that I can handle a gun, knife, crossbow and pretty much any other weapon you put in front of me.

                Back to the whole 'no recollection of my past' thing.

                I can't remember anything from before the day I showed up in Wales. I even didn't know my name until Uncle Mike told me.

                That was the main reason he agreed to train me.

                He told me that my parents worked with him. Sort of. They didn't work in the office. What they did was much more black clothes, sneaking around in the shadows and fancy gadgets.  Think spy here.

                They disappeared around the same time I knocked on his door, covered in cuts and bruises. Weird coincidence, right?

                He thinks that his old employers knew something about what happened and my mental blank. And I agree with him.

                I want my memories back, and I'm sure as hell going to get them

                This is my story.

                This is how I made the Government pay.






  A/N     Well hello there wonderful reader! How are you today? 

For any of my fans who are feeling that this is very different to my usual style, you'd be absolutely right! I needed to write something more lighthearted and that's what this is. So... yeah. 

For anybody new, HELLO!! Thanks for clicking on this story and sparing the time to read it. It means alot to me that you found it interesting enough! I really hope you enjoy it :)

I'd love any feed back you have for me :)

Please Like, Comment and Fan! <3

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