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MARGO LEE was raised to kill.
Her father- a trained assassin- had blamed her for her mothers death, when he looked at her all he saw was a killer, and with that taken into mind he saw potential. Margo was a simple child really, she wasn't into girly things and seemed to overall be content with participating in activities usually practiced by boys; hunting, going out to the shooting range with her father, helping him skin animals, and learning new ways to kill.
To her father it was all life lessons she would be able to use later on when she became an assassin like him, he would learn that she was going to become what he had always saw her as much sooner than he had ever predicted.
She was fifteen.
Fifteen years old when she brutally murdered her father. She had shot him in the foot and then gone on to slowly torture him for hours on end before she had finally let him bleed out, the neighbors heard a single gun shot and called the police six minutes prior before they broke down her front door and aimed their guns to the pale flesh of her forehead. Backing away from her fathers lifeless body, she had raised her hands above her head and done as the officers told her to do. They took her down to the station to get her report on what had happened, not too long after she was transported to another facility where she was kept for several months.
During one of the first days she was led to an interrogation room where she sat for several hours before someone entered the room and sat in the seat across from her.
It was a woman.
Her face seemed like something was setting her off, as if something about what she was currently doing seemed wrong to her somehow.
She plopped the vanilla folder onto the cold metal of the table between the two of them before quietly sitting down, she rested her hands in front of her on the cold metal silently watching Margo, "Why did you do it?" she asked, she shrugged the set of cuffs on her hands clinking against the table, "you had a reason, correct?" watching Margos body language she could tell the girl felt little to no remorse to the crimes of which she'd committed, "so why did you do it?" she asked, Margo met the womans gaze, she leaned forward slightly.
"I did what I was taught to do, I completed the mission" leaning back she glanced up at the ceiling. The woman softly shook her head, "Margo, you're talented, despite what you've done today I will say that" this piqued Margos interest, she shifted her gaze from the ceiling back to the woman.
"It runs in the family" Margo replied, the woman chuckled, "I bet it does" she mumbled, she slid the vanilla folder closer to Margo, there were photos inside from the crime scene, "I don't want your talent to be wasted inside a detention center, you... you have potential Margo, and I think with the right training you could possibly become one of the best in the game" she explained, Margo smiled, "in the assassin game you mean?" the womans expression faltered, "I wouldn't use those exact words, but yes" she paused, "with that being said there's someone I would like you to meet" she stood up from her chair and moved towards Margo to unlock her handcuffs.
Margo let out a sigh as soon as her wrists were free rubbing the skin to regain the lost feeling in them, the woman made her way to the door of the room waiting for Margo to follow behind her, before she opened the door she turned to face Margo, "I'm Irene" she stated, she didn't reply and instead waited for Irene to open the door.
They exited the room going out into the hall and walking past several doors, while all of this happened people bustled all over the building some in front of screens while others watched the two walk down the wide hallway, they took a right going down another hallway to which they stopped at the end where an entrance with no door led into a large room.
There were screens everywhere and a few glass offices in the room offering little to no privacy as an office should.
Irene led her into one of the offices an older man with obvious hair loss sitting with his arms crossed over his chest in one of the fours chairs the room had, upon their entry the man stood up his arms still crossed.
Irene gestured to the man, "this is Stan Hurley, he's the trainer for one of our special ops teams" she explained, he frowned down at the two of them giving Irene a look of pure disgust, "she can't be more then twelve" he spoke letting his arms fall to his sides.
Irene chuckled, "Stan she's fifteen" she responded.
"Sixteen next month" Margo corrected, Irene gave her head a slight shake before meeting Stans gaze once again, "Margo go sit outside please" Irene spoke gently nudging her in the direction of the doorway, with furrowed eyebrows she sat outside listening at they attempted to quietly argue.
"Stan she has potential- she has so much potential that it is actually horrifying, she needs a teacher to help her reach that undefined potential, she needs you to train her" Irene spoke, Stan shook his head, "I train adults, not teenagers" he argued.
Irene gestured to where Margo sat, "would a teenager murder their father just to show no remorse and say that they followed orders?" She paused, "I don't think so" she began to walk across the room to leave before Stans voice stopped her.
"I'll train her, but on one condition" Irene turned to face him, "she stays within the confines of the CIA" he added, she glanced to where Margo sat before nodding her head, "you can take her back to the grounds in an hour" she stated.
And that was how Margo began her training.
At the age of twenty two she finally met a worthy opponent.
Mitch Rapp.
Now they both face a common enemy; Ghost, or what Stan likes to call, the one that he failed.
