Hacked Off

Alexis Faraway, 15, hacking prodigy.

Lexi was always on the wrong side off the law, to a massive scale. Growing up with two rouge assassins for parents she was unsurprisingly left with a range of skills, including an exceptional ability to hack anything she wanted, making her candy to the fingers of intelligence agents, but when her parents are killed leaving her not only vulnerable but in the protection of an academy that trains teens for a life as a spy she must change her allegiance and become something she'd never have expected, part of the government, a good guy, an operative.

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1. Prologue

 

It would take only 5 minutes.

3 minutes to hack into British intelligence, 2 for them to hunt me down and half a measly second to compromise my location, give in and surrender.

Looking back on it I wasn’t doing this because of some miraculous realisation that my mum’s line of work was wrong or that the government was right, to be honest it was mostly to protect my ego. I’d had to face the facts, since my parent’s deaths MIeverything seemed to be out looking for the ‘lost Faraway daughter’.

It’s not as if they weren’t looking for me before... I pretty much had this coming from the very moment I hacked into MI6 solely to mess with their lights and play nyan cat through their computers at the grand old age of 7, but my mum’s death definitely seemed to add to their motivation, and according to various security cameras set up in the wood, their motivation was getting them closer and closer to me.

I hadn’t even done anything wrong this time, it was my mother. Sure I helped on the hacking part of her ‘mission’ but they had no proof of that. Besides, I wasn’t even physically there, I didn’t know who she was planning to kill or why she was going to kill him, all I know is that something went wrong, a bomb went off near where I was hidden causing the death of my mum and giving me a pretty damaged leg.

I glanced out of the window longingly. It was a nice day. A few rays of sun were shining through the thick canopy of luscious green leaves, but instead of being out there, I was in here, my mum’s stupid ‘safe house’ a log house to be exact, located south of nowhere, hidden deep in a wood.

I had absolutely no doubt that I would’ve run if I hadn’t entirely screwed up my leg. There were burns stretched across my thighs and thick gashes were scorched into my skin turning slightly yellow at the corners of the wounds, I was also pretty sure it was broken. And to add to my list of injuries, my platinum blonde hair was stained red, soaked in blood from a deep cut on my forehead. Mmm, not good.

I finished hacking the search party, even providing a map with the caption ‘Take your sweet time, It’s not like I’m going anywhere’. The two minute countdown started now.

I hopped around on my one operating leg, literally, grabbing my computer, iPod, all of my clothes and as much of the house as physically possible and stuffed it into a black duffle bag before collapsing onto the desk chair.

I shivered, curling into a ball to keep warm; however before I knew it tears were rolling down my face. I sniffed and wiped a hand clumsily over my damp cheeks in attempt to compose myself before MI5 and 6 arrived. Needless to say my attempts were useless, when I have my mind set on something (in this case my dead as a dodo mother) I don’t tend to stop. Memories and past hopes flooded into my mind. I always thought she’d be there for me, be there at my graduation, wedding, children’s christening… although it now seemed that none of that would happen. Whether they slap me in a prison or a child’s care home, I’m never going to get my happy ever after.

A knock at the door shook me from my self-pity parade.

 “Really?  So you’re knocking now?” I yelled half sarcastic half intrigued, hoping it masked the sound of my sniffling. “So what? Has British intelligence grown manners or something?”

Apparently not,  it turns out they were checking the sturdiness of the door as two seconds later it was kicked open and a team of five agents came bombarding in.

“You know there is such a thing as a door knob.” I muttered, looking up to meet the eyes of a blonde haired agent dressed completely in black who appeared to be in his thirty’s and in charge of the entire man hunt. A British intelligence agent if ever I saw one: extremely handsome, granted, but also cold, calculating and downright antisocial, although he looked very familiar. I was sure I’d seen a photo of him once. I tried to remember when and where however my usually photographic memory seemed to have left with my ability to keep it together, I felt tired.

I looked at him dizzily watching his harsh gaze soften and he spotted the injuries and the tell-tale signs that I had been crying. Agents would have been trained to think of me as the threat; however he just looked at me like a lost little girl, they all did. He smiled softly at me before scooping me up in his arms, making sure not to hurt me. “Search the house for any dangers; I need to get her to a hospital.” He ordered before taking me outside and gently putting me in the front seat of his car.

My names Alexis by the way, but most commonly I’m known as Lexi Faraway: daughter of a rouge assassin, hacker prodigy and extremely damaged child.

Thanks if you read this far :) The next chapter will be more interesting I promise xxxx

 

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