Guys, Lies and Deadly Spies. (rewritten)

Prologue.

Guys, Lies and Deadly Spies is teen fiction\spy\ action novel.

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With that said, sit back and enjoy my dear readers as I take you through an unforgettable journey with one abnormal female assassin trying to understand teenage life... at an all boys school.

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I placed my long legs on the furnished mahogany table and yawned with pure boredom. She was late. I hated it when they were late. Like I had nothing better to do than kill people; a process which was already so time consuming, especially when they put up a fight. The least targets could do was show up on time.

After reading the last page of her file I shut it and placed it on my chest with a sigh. The woman taking her sweet time to get home was Felicia Kamanga, a thirty-one-year-old, hard-working epidemiologist. So hard working in fact, that the only evidence she had of a life outside work was her six-year-old daughter, Meredith Mosby, whose father had been out of the picture for quite some time now. Felicia had no police records, not even a parking ticket and according to her file she'd recently discovered a cure for a deadly virus called Hash, with very similar traits to Leprosy.

I know what you're thinking, why would I assassinate such a saint? If anything, we were meant to be thanking her for all the hard work she was putting in to making the world a better place, right? Wrong. Ms. Kamanga was not only the first and sole possessor of the Hash cure, but word had gotten out that she'd created the disease herself.

According to the Agency, this was illegal, unacceptable and punishable by death, which I personally thought was a bit extreme. This lady had found a way to cut the overpopulation issue Earth was having and simultaneously make money off of it. If I had any real influence, I'd have made her mayor, but I had no say in these decisions. I was just the messenger. I delivered death. And unfortunately for her, my packages never got lost.

By the time she finally got home, Felicia found me clicking the suppressor onto the muzzle of my Glock. I was eager to get this over with so I could finally get on with my day but little did I know that not only was this woman a late-comer, she was also a runner. The second she saw me her face went ashen, grocery bags hitting the floor with a dramatic thud as she stumbled back in a panic-stricken motion. Before I could stand, she was already out the door, her court shoes clattering madly through the passage way, trying to get as far away from the threat as possible.

"Fucking hell," I sighed, shoving the chair back before making a break for it. I followed the sounds of her short quick steps and even shorter quicker breathes, barricading through her house like an obstacle course. I dodged the large vase she threw at me as she clambered up the stairs but caught the small wooden stool with my gut. She was a fighter, which I must admit, made this mission a little more interesting; but this was it. Felicia had outrun death long enough.

Knocking me down with that stool bought her enough time to run ahead and hide in one of the rooms but it wouldn't be long before I found her. I blew the door open with a hard kick right under the knob and held my gun up pointed at an unbelievably terrified and out of breathe murderer.

She had on a simple beige dress and cheap pearls draped around her neck with earrings to match; her short bob wig slightly slouched to the side from all the running.

"Felicia Kamanga, you have been charged and found guilty of manslaughter and are hereby sentenced to a bullet in the brain," I stated as I took a few steps closer. "I am here to make sure you carry out that sentence."