Guts Over Fear ◇ NIKITA

The Beginning

Alys was home alone. Again. She didn't know why she let it bother her so much, it's not like things had suddenly changed. Her parents were never home, but she didn't mind so much. It allowed her to hermit in her room and shield herself behind computer moniters and screen names.

The March Hare was quite active because of the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. Alys's boredom led her to computers and coding, eventually leading her to create what she called God's Eye. She could tap into any device and access the camera, microphone, and files. As she mindlessly typed away, her eyes unfocused and her fingers slowed to a stop as her mind started to wander.

She spaced out often, found it hard to concentrate on one thing for too long. So, after realizing she was zoning, Alys reached into the drawer at her left and grabbed the ever-emptying bottle of Ritalin, dumping a pill into her hand before tossing it to the back of her throat and swallowing. Anything for the focus.

She was too close to finding out the truth to lose it. Her parents, wealthy and caring, as much as they could have been, were not her parents. Someone even wealthier had hired them, put a child under their care, and never left a trace. When her parents did come home, they spent extensive time catching up with her, and hours later they would call someone and relay her state to someone over a phone.

It had taken hours of this day and countless days before it before the God's Eye program found a match. Months she had been searching for anyone on record that shared her genetics until finally, she found someone compatible. The algorithm was tough and hard to beat, but Alys got through, her window of oppertunity shrinking with each passing second. Her eyes quickly skimmed over a file, the only names sticking in her mind being Ari Tasarov and Zetrov.

The Ritalin hadn't had the proper amount of time to kickstart her attention span so she couldn't grasp much more before a screen popped up in warning of a back-hack. Automatically, Alys flew to the outlet and ripped out the cord of her surge protecter, her room darkening significantly since the screens were the only offering of light.

The Eye gave names of the domains it was hacking, and anything that tried to hack it. The files came from a source called division, but it didn't specify a division of what. The back-hack came from a system called Shadownet. After taking a minute to slow her heartrate, Alys left the confines of her room, retracting and shielding her eyes from the bright light flooding through her home.

The space was empty and still, her socked feet shuffling across the hardwood floor being the only sound scraping over her ears. Her first instinct was the kitchen but she hadn't even decided if she wanted the pear on the counter before a wave of nausea rolled through her and she instead turned to the livingroom.

If she wanted to continue her search for her lineage, she'd have to be somewhere safer than her parents' penthouse, at the very least for their sake. They might have been consitantly absent, but they weren't bad people. They didn't deserve the backlash of her actions. She quickly scrawled out a note of apology, briefly explaining the cause of her departure, and folded up the paper, adressing it with 'Mum and Dad' before leaving it on the coffee table and returning to her room.

She turned on the light and carefully looked over her computer table, the many screens dark and black, waiting for her commands. However, she didn't move to turn them on, unplugging the flash drive that contained the Eye and stuffing it into a bag with her laptop. She looked over the screens again, in a final goodbye, before picking up the bat in the corner of her room and smashing them all.

Sparks flew as she put holes into the screens and dents into the metal, loud bangings that certainly wouldn't have gone unnoticed if she weren't alone, and grunts of exertion filled the room. When Alys finally stepped back and dropped the bat, she didn't recognize her throne of power. The chair had been tossed to the side and the damaged electrical components hissed and sparked in protest.

Grabbing the bag from earlier and her bottle of Ritalin, she left her room and headed to the one her parents vacated on the rare occasions they came home, pulling back the rug and revealing the hole made into the floor and the safe that had been put into it. It didn't take much to crack the safe, just a 6 digit combination of all of their birthdates.

She was a little shocked at what she found inside, but given her most recent findings, she felt she shouldn't have been. There were two passports for each of them, both containing fake information, a Beretta semi-automatic pistol, and cash of different forms; pounds, yen, American dollars, and a few more she wasn't familiar with. Grabbing one of her passports, some cash, and the gun, she closed the safe and folded the rug back over it, stuffing the things into her bag before leaving the penthouse.

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Alys pulled up to the closest pharmacy and quickly jogged inside, holding her perscription papers tightly in her hand. She could feel her breath catch and her lungs constrict, but if she got the prescription filled quick enough, her asthma wouldn't be a problem. She thanked whatever higher power for the lack of anyone in line and leaned herself against the counter. "I need...these refilled," she lightly rasped, disregarding the pharmasist's wide-eyed stare. "As quickly as possible...please."

"I need to see some ID," the young man replied in a firm tone, his eyes sympathetic but his voice professional. Alys pulled the slim plastic from her back pocket and lazily dropped it to the counter, trying to force deeper breaths into her unforgiving lungs. After quickly scanning and processing who she was and what she needed, the pharmasist slid the ID and perscriptions back to her. "Take a seat, Miss Gordon. I'll try to get you through quickly."

Alys nodded and grabbed her things before sitting herself on the nearest bench and folding both arms over the top of her head, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on strengthening her breathing. She had been so accustomed to her frequent asthma attacks that they rarely caused her panic anymore, unless she was already panicking to begin with.

She already had to throw away her phone, some woman was asking for Alys Gordon, but the number was American as well as her accent. After informing her she had the wrong number, she slowed enough to throw her phone in front of the tire and ran the device over. All she wanted was to get her medications and get out.

She had only been sitting there for a few minutes before the pharmasist lightly touched her eblow and held out a small white bag. "Take it easy, Miss Gordon." Giving him a faint smile, she accepted the bag and dug her hand into it, groping around for the L-shaped inhaler. She quickly scanned her eyes over the rim, recognizing the name Albuterol and giving it a good shake.

Alys took the deepest breath she could manage, inhaling the medication and holding her breath for a short moment before releasing the breath and trying to set a rhythm to her respitory system. Once she didn't feel like she was going faint with the loss of oxygen, she left the store and was on the road again.