I do not own any of the Gallagher Series nor do I own Mr. And Mrs. Smith. Although I wouldn't mind owning Brad Pitt... :)

Chapter 1

I sat in the run down shack in the middle of the desert and wiped the sweat that had pooled on my forehead. I grabbed my high-tech binoculars and peered into the distance monitoring the activity that was hundreds of feet away. Five Humvees were getting ready to enter the kill zone. I smiled as I zoomed in on the middle Humvee. The upscale military vehicle looked like a cross between a Hummer and a Jeep. But in this line of business, nothing is ever what it seems. Not only did it provide protection against armor-piercing projectiles, 155 mm artillery air bursts anti-tank mine blasts but it also came equipped with mounting and firing capabilities for the M134 Minigun, the Mk 19 grenade launcher, the M2 heavy machine gun, the M240G/B machine gun and M249 LMG. If you're not familiar with weaponry talk then understand this: basically it was bullet proof and carried a lot of dangerous weapons.

But I knew better. Once the armed mammoths entered the kill zone at least 20 different types of explosives would go off, eliminating any chance of survival. And if that wasn't enough, I reached behind me and grabbed my KTR-03S. I cocked the gun and checked the aim to make sure it was working correctly. I was not going to take any chances during this mission. The man being protected by the swarm of Humvees was my agency's top priority. He was going to die, and I was going be the one to do it.

Why you may be asking? Well, I'm the best. I could kill five men at once with just a hand pistol, with a blindfold on of course and both my hands tied behind my back. I could do things some men could only dream of doing. You see my line of work requires me to have a different list of criteria than most places. Why? Well because I'm an assassin. Now I know what you might be thinking: Cammie Morgan, the sweet girl who went to the snooty boarding school in Roseville Virginia turned out to be a blood lusting assassin? The answer to that question would be no. Well sort of anyway.

If you have at least a level 4 clearance you would know that I did not go to a rich snooty boarding school in Virginia. Well I did, but that school is actually a secret government facility that trained young girls to be spies. Well it trained them to be prepared for whatever line of work they choose after graduation. So instead of joining the normal CIA or NSA I decided to join Father Agency. Don't judge me yet. The sweet girl who only wants to help people is still me. It's just that my job title isn't all that convincing of that statement.

After graduation I got a phone call from Father (He's the one who runs the agency, the boss man, head hancho-you get the picture). He said he wanted me to join this elite covert team where girls like me use their skills to kill the men that threaten the world. We're really not all that different from agencies like the CIA, except that instead of locking the bad guys away, we kill them. It really is a more efficient method. I mean the people we kill are the lowest of the low. They make Adolf Hitler look like a saint. You probably never heard of these threats and that's because my team takes them out before they get a chance to do any real damage. We save thousands by killing one. Look at it however you want. I think we rock.

You might have caught on to something though; it depends on how smart you really are. We are an all girl agency. If you're surprised, then you're really not that smart. Women have a way of, well extracting information from people, in a way that males cannot. Yes we frequently engage in honeypot situations. This is where we seduce the men and then kill them. It might sound harsh, but it's certainly affective.

I checked through the binoculars again. The cars would be arriving in the kill zone in exactly 4 minutes and 37 seconds.

"Perfect." I smiled. Everything was falling into place perfectly. I quickly started to type in the codes on my laptop that would set of the bombs once the Humvees entered into the zone. I had set up motion detectors all along the kill zone that would trigger the computer to trigger the bombs. All of a sudden the motion triggers caught movement. My mental clock told me that it was still 3 minutes and 47 seconds too soon. I grabbed my binoculars and looked out the door of the shack into the canvassing desert landscape before me. My binoculars picked up the movement and zoomed in on a dune buggy about 1,000 feet away ripping through the landscape.

"Idiot." I muttered. His stupid joy ride had rigged the motion detectors. I turned away for a moment to disable the sensors so that the bombs wouldn't go off. The Humvees were still another 2 minutes and 23 seconds away. I grabbed my binoculars again to see where the stupid guy had gone. He was messing up my perfect plan and he was starting to get on my nerves.

I zoomed in on the guy. His back was turned to me and he was reaching into the dune buggy for something. I took a couple pictures with the binoculars to send back to base. I had to check this guy to see if he was a threat. I knew it would be difficult to find out who he was without a face recognition scan but I still sent the pictures. Before I got any reply from my team, I had my answer. The guy had just pulled out an R-47 Widowmaker rocket launcher and pointed it at the approaching Humvees. He was a threat trying to steal my target. I quickly scrambled for my gun and pushed down my aviators that had a wireless connection to the crossbow on my gun. As I aimed with my finger on the trigger inching to snap it I noticed how broad the man's shoulders were. I hesitated for just a moment and backed up. It was probably the worst thing I could have done.

As soon as I backed up I stepped on the computer and reactivated the bombs. The Humvees still weren't in range yet as the explosives starting going off. All of a sudden everything was in chaos. The bombs were going off causing dust to shoot into the air. The Humvees noticing the commotion quickly slammed on the brakes and started to retreat. I noticed the man back up a few inches. I gritted my teeth angrily and took the shoot at the man. At least one threat would be killed, I thought bitterly. I quickly started shouting orders into my headphone.

"Target is escaping. I need a back up unit to follow the movement. I repeat target is escaping, I'm losing visual."

All I got from the other end was static. I growled in frustration. The threat with the dune buggy most have had some sort of wireless set up that was jamming my signal. I pointed my guns to the retreating Humvees and knew there was no use. The cars were already out of my range.

I huffed angrily and turned my attention back to the threat. I wanted to see his face. But as soon as I looked over I couldn't see his face. Instead I saw him lying down aiming the rocket launcher at my shed. Within seconds I saw the assailing missile come toward me. I reacted quickly and jumped through the window of the shed and behind a rock milliseconds before the rocket hit the shed and blasted it into a million pieces.

The explosion sent pieces of debris everywhere. While I was defiantly scratched from the jump and the debris I didn't let that stop me. I quickly grabbed my gun and aimed it toward the guy. If this guy found out who I was by I. me I'd be screwed. He couldn't stay alive if he saw my face. As soon as I turned to aim I saw, to my dismay that the dune buggy was racing off into the distance.

"Damn!" I screamed frustrated. I had lost my target and failed my mission. I knew Father wasn't going to be happy with me. But all I could think about as I jumped into the waiting helicopter beyond the steep cliffs was that whoever had messed up my mission was going to pay.

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