"Take That!" Julia Tremaine practically sung, launching into a perfect flying karate kick. She had aimed well, and heard her enemies bone crunch under her combat boot.

Once he was incapacitated, she pried the stolen manilla folder from out from his clenched fists. It was crumpled, and she would surely loose points for that, but she had still achieved one of her objectives.

One of them. Turning around with a start, she looked back at the object she was supposed to be guarding. The second criminal had grabbed it, and had been making a gleeful escape while her back was turned. She sprinted towards him, but he had too much of a head start. He reached the buzzer on the other side of the arena and pressed down. The long beep meant failure.

Breathing deeply, she looked up at the raised Dias. The three seats were occupied with the top C.I.A. agents in charge of student training, and her C.I.A. handler. 

The first one looked up from his notes "Pathetic"

Shaking her head the second one delivered her verdict: "Horrible performance, Tremaine. I expected far better."

Her handler sadly shook his head, "I am sorry, Julia, but you failed to guard your initiative, and he got away. Had that been a real mission instead of a test, you would have been fired from the C.I.A."

She had failed. All that work, years upon years of training, at home and in special classes and facilities, had led up to this moment, the moment she would glorify herself in the golden light of success, all her doubts melting into the shadows and engulfed in the bright light she would cary within herself. 

She sat down on the concrete floor of the training arena, her head resting dejectedly in her hands. Tears threatened to spill out of her dark blue eyes. Hastily, she wiped them away.

This wasn't the end. This didn't mean she wasn't going to be assigned to a mission. This  just meant that she was going to be assigned a easy mission.

I will recover, She told herself. I'll ace all my real missions, someday I'll be the best spy they've ever seen. I'll be even better than my parents.

Ugh, her parents. Now all she had to do was tell her high-and-mighty parents that she failed. Or, they might already know. That's the thing about living in a family of spies, more importantly, living in a family of extremely well-connected, well-informed spies.

She sat up, brushing off the grim on the back if her skin-tight black mission uniform. It was designed to be waterproof, to wick sweat, and hold in your heat if needed, all while allowing the wearer to move freely and unconstricted.

Walking out of the arena, she sighed loudly. Everything she had worked so hard for, wasted. Gone. She was a failure, and Tremaines' never failed. Never. In fact, Tremaine and Failure didn't even belong in the same sentence. The realization sunk in as she walked into the parking lot. She was the first Tremaine to ever fail a Mission Aptitude test.

Digging her keys out from her bag, she unlocked her car. The pleasant chirp chirp of her keys seemed to be mocking her morose attitude.

The drive home seemed shorter than usual, as she was dreading telling her parents and siblings. Her 21-year-old twin siblings, Bianca and Mossimo, both aced their tests in record time. Her cousin, Gwendoline Tremaine, had beat their time by 3 seconds a few years ago. Everyone expected her too pass, and frankly, even of she had passed, her parents would have been disappointed that she didn't beat Gwendoline's record.

She was 18 years old now, an adult. She didn't feel like one though, with her parents constantly dictating her every move, and all the expectations of being a Tremaine resting on her shoulders.

She pulled in to the grand driveway of her parents even grander stately mansion. It looked like a miniature version of the white house.

Taking a deep breath and forcing calm upon myself, I knocked on the door.

My mom, Viktoria Ivanov Tremaine, opened the door almost immediately, a smile on her excited face.

"Julia! дорогой!" She said, calling me 'Darling' in Russian.

I plastered a fake smile on my face. "Mama! Hello!"

Once we were inside, my mother, the practical woman she is, skipped all other greetings. "How did your Mission Aptitude test go?" She asked, as my bubbly older sister Bianca pulled me into a hug. Mossimo patted the couch next to him, indicating he wanted me to sit down next to him.

I froze, "It, it well...I-I-" I couldn't stand it. I saw the hopeful smiles on their faces, but, I also knew the judgmental minds behind them.

So I did what any mature, level-headed, thoughtful person would do.

I ran.

Out of the house, and into my car. I hastily started the engine and backed out of the driveway. I speeded down the country roads of rural Virginia until I made it to my house.

Collapsing onto my sofa, my phone buzzed with a text.

Bianca: Jules, what's wrong? Didn't you pass?

I didn't respond.

Less than a minute later, my phone buzzer again, thinking it was Bianca, I didn't respond. Instead, I made myself busy on my laptop, entering a 25 character password that let me into the secure network that operated as the online HQ for the C.I.A.

Carelessly, I checked my files, and almost feel off the couch.

There was a mission.

Assigned to me.

Me!

I had failed, so a mission so soon was quite unexpected. But, being a Tremaine, it was no secret my family got special treatment.

I clicked on the file brief, gleefully opening it up.

Ugh. I read the short mission objective file.

She almost screamed. Ugh!  Guarding a relic! Could their
be anything more stupid! Just when she thought all hopes were gone. Her phone buzzed again.

Sighing at her annoying sister, she picked it up and read the texts. They were not from her sister. In fact, they were not from anyone she knew at all.

Unknown ID: Julia, I look forward to against with you. Good luck, agent.

For the first time all day Julia smiled to herself, maybe this would be interesting after all.