Operation Vanity

o n e

Dedicated to Heartbeat2002

"No matter how many times people try to criticize you, the best revenge is to prove them wrong." ~Anon.

Paige Madden

There's a huge downside to adrenaline. While I'm out fighting, I don't feel the pain. I only feel the rush and excitement that comes with every move I make. Then when it's over, the pain hits you like a ton of bricks. I guess that's what it's like when our neighbor Rick/Rachel sobers up again, or when whatever it is that they consume wears off.

The boy's eyes flicked to the right, betraying the secret of his next move. I quickly jumped to the left, successfully dodging his failed attempt to jab at my face. My ponytail stuck to my neck as the sweat continued to form droplets on my skin. My opponent shuffled to the left as I gathered a quick round house kick to his jaw. A string of curse words sprouted from his mouth as I smirked victoriously.

"Dang, kid take it easy," my older brother Presley surrendered while opening up a water bottle.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're turning old in a week," I replied rolling my eyes playfully.

He threw a towel at me, which I used to wipe the sweat off of my face and neck.

"I'm not old, ask Dad," he said before chugging down the entire bottle.

"Sure, and he isn't a part of the CIA," I joked.

My dad travelled around a lot due to his job. Yes, he's a part of the CIA, but that's about all I know concerning his job. Basically all of his missions are confidential, meaning his 17 year old daughter can't know. It's exciting, but also a bit worry some.

Ever since my Mom died, our Dad has been training us to protect ourselves and possibly follow in his footsteps.  At the age of three I learned how do knock out a fully grown male with my bare hands. At five years old, I had already earned my black belt in Judo and Taekwondo. When I was six, I learned a few security basics around the lines of breaking into master vaults and such. Petty stuff compared to what my brother has done.

Presley Madden was one of the CIA's original child prodigies. He's nineteen now, turning twenty in a week. Despite being so young, my brother has already been a major role in three international missions. He was good enough to be recruited right out of high school. Lucky bastard.

Since they found so much success in some of the younger recruits, the Central Youth Undercover Agency was created. You can think of it as something around the lines of the CIA Jr. There's a major series of tests and training someone has to accomplish in order to be accepted. It makes sense considering they can't just pull random five year olds off the street.

Everyone sees it as a pro being Presley's sister. I guess I have a few perks, like being able to pull the 'I'm Presley Madden's little sister' card. But otherwise, I'm not taken very seriously. Everyone thinks I was simply given a spot in the CYUA, as if I didn't have to work as hard as them. As much as I love my brother, I hate having to live in his shadows of society. I've trained just as hard,if not even harder than some. Surely if I were someone else, perhaps not a petite 5'5 blonde seventeen year old, I would be treated differently. But I guess it's up to me to prove them wrong.

That's why I've been training non-stop this week. I was given a chance recently to get drafted into an upcoming mission. Since I'm already seventeen, aka nearing the end of my CYUA carrier, this could make or break my entire future. I can continue being 'Presley Madden's little sister,' or I can finally be known as Paige Madden.

"Go shower, you stink," Presley groaned while scrunching his nose.

I shot back the same look of disgust, "I could say the same to you."

He laughed and made his way up the basement stairs.

"By the way, the mail came in!" He yelled before disappearing upstairs.

My eyes widened and my body filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Today was July 20th, or the official day every recipient of the program would receive their results. I dashed up the stairs, passing and accidentally pushing my brother out of the way. My heart raced with every step I took closer and closer to the front door.

Fallen through the mail slot laid a group of envelopes. Among those bills and pointless Costco coupons was the beige envelope I had been waiting my entire summer break for. A twinge of hope spread through my chest as I slowly grabbed it while saying a silent prayer to every religion to myself.

Please.

Please.

Please.

I messily tore open the envelope flap and pulled out a folded piece of paper with a single golden wax stamp of the CYUA's code of arms. Quickly, I unfolded the white paper and took in every word slowly.

To Recipient #0007

You have been selected by the Central Youth Undercover Agency. Under careful considerations on your skill sets and rankings, we ask for you to join us in our latest mission. If you choose to participate, please show up to the address written below promptly at 4am on July 24, 2016. This message will self destruct in T-minus 60 seconds. Only speak of this to those you trust.

00000 South Central Avenue
Ripon, California 00000

From,
The CIA
Oliver Thatcher

I was filled with a sense of relief, and my excitement only grew. Me being the teenage girl I was, could not hold down the scream of excitement that built up in my throat. I'm talking, classic pre-murder horror scream.

Quick and heavy steps shook the house as Presley ran into the kitchen with a Kahr K9 handgun, soaking wet, and in nothing but a towel around his waist.

"What the hell happened?"

"Original prodigy my ass," I thought as the letter simply crumpled into ashes in my hand.