Chapter 12
I didn't need a GPS to find the CIA headquarters. The drive to Langley from Washington DC took approximately forty minutes. I know the route like the back of my hand, having traveled it over a million times. Virginia is a beautiful state, and so is Washington DC, so I don't mind a bit of a drive. The autumn colors started coming in in late August, tinting the green leaves but not fully coloring them the usual shades of red, gold, brown, and yellow yet. Next to me, in the passenger's seat, my new bag sat next to my laptop. I turned it off as soon as the message ended and closed off all connection to it. Fortunately, my laptop has a pretty damn good firewall and anti-virus software (courtesy of Simon.)
My car drove smoothly over the main highway, the engine purring with power. God, I love my car. Best gift ever. The highway was busier than usual but, being a Saturday, I guess it's normal. Through my dark Maui Jim sunglasses (a gift from Garrett for my seventeenth birthday), the highway was easier to see. Despite it being early September, the sun still shined as if it were the middle of August. Fortunately, the heat had taken off an edge. It no longer reached ninety five degrees Fahrenheit anymore. The highest temperatures I've seen in the weather forecast had been seventy one. Highest! That's the quickest it's ever cooled down here in Virginia and in Washington DC. It's never-
Suddenly, a cherry red Lamborghini came speeding up next to me. I jumped, surprised, gripping the wheel. Looking over to my right, I saw the driver of the car. An older man, wearing a pinstripe suit and Aviator sunglasses, had the wheel. He looked like a scum bag. The slutty looking girl with bubblegum pink hair sitting next to him confirmed my creepy-old-scummy-pervert suspicion. The way she kept fingering his jacket and giving him seductive eyes told me they weren't related AT ALL. I turned back to the road right when a sixteen wheeler decided to cut into my lane. I screamed as the truck hit my car, sending my off the highway in a spiral. My head hit the steering wheel so hard that I passed out. The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was the highway and the cars rushing over to mine where I sat on the grass in my wrecked car. The airbag never went off. What could have-
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Presidents, Spies, and Boys, Oh My!
Teen FictionWhat if you one day fell in love with a boy you weren't supposed to? What if that boy was your employers son? Seventeen year old Ember Rhinehart has been raised to become a CIA operative. Training ever since she could walk, she knows sixteen langua...
