My hand brushed against the wall, my cloaking device weighing heavy in my skirt pocket. I looked up at the ceiling and squinted at the barely visible blinking red light piercing through my vision. But there was no reason to worry about that. I was invisible to everyone and everything as long as I kept the clunk of metal close to my person.

I tapped the device wedged in my ear and whispered, "Wren, give me a status on your situation."

"The mission was successful," a soft voice replied from the other end. "The infrared sensors will be down for the next one hour, five minutes, and twenty seconds. Good luck, Lumi."

"It's Tempest," I corrected before I heard the click of her going offline. "Oh, yeah, sure, just leave me to fend for myself. If I get caught I'll be sure to say I was working alone."

"I'm still here, Lumi. That click was my pen." I heard another click and then the sound of pen scratching against paper.

"What are you writing down?" I asked as I continued on down the corridor, scouting for unwanted movement in the surrounding area.

"I'm doing homework."

"I thought you already finished. Along with extra credit."

"I did."

I paused as I waited for her to finish her reply, but all I heard was silence. "Check the LF."

Faint tapping came through the earpiece. "All clear. Move out now."

I nodded despite knowing she couldn't see me and sped down the hallway as quickly and silently as I could. I flattened my back against the wall next to the bend and asked Wren to check the feed again.

"You're about to enter unknown territory. Take precautions and do not do anything rash, Tempest."

"I won't do anything I haven't done before," I replied. I tapped on my earpiece and Wren's typing turned to static before she could reply. "I'm moving out," I whispered to myself, grabbing the wall and sliding onto the new concrete corridor.

As I raced along, my boots tapping faintly against the floor, I flipped my backpack to my front and opened it. It thumped against my chest, keeping in beat with my steps and heart as I struggled to search through it.

I was eventually able to rip out a small plastic bag. I carefully removed the glass paperweight from inside. Holding it up against the dim lighting, my eyes caught sight of what I was looking for: a faint fingerprint. I set it carefully back into the plastic bag and then slipped it back into my backpack so my hands would be free.

I struggled to find the amber glass bottle in the depths of my pocket. When my hands finally brushed against it, I fished it out and popped off the lid. I brought the open side down onto the cotton ball stashed in my warm palms and then slipped the cotton ball into the bag with the paperweight, following it up with a few squirts of activator. I slowed my pace and fell back against a wall to wait for the dull red smoke to appear. Clicking the earpiece back on, I murmured, "Coast?"

"Clear. How did my serum work?"

"I'm about to check it now." I gripped the sides of the plastic bag and squinted through the terrible lighting. "Red smoke, right?"

"The fingerprints should turn red and defined as well." I heard the continual click of the pen, Wren's only sign of emotion.

"Looks about right," I said, sinking to the floor and setting the bag in front of me. I pulled on a glove from the side pocket of my backpack and carefully reached into the plastic bag, touching my pointer finger against one of the red fingerprints and adding slight pressure. I stuffed everything back into my bag with my ungloved hand and jumped into a sprint. "Watch my path," I told Wren.

My pants brushed against my legs as I ran toward my goal: steel glass doors, the entry to the tunnels. Through the tunnels, I would be able to complete my mission.

So close.

So very close.

"Tempest."

I screeched to a halt, snapping my head back and forth.

"Take five steps back," Wren commanded. "There is someone coming down the hall adjacent to you."

My skin crawled as I heard the sound of faint conversation coming from not far away. "Understood." I did as she said and pressed my back against the wall, taking silent deep breaths and willing myself to be completely invisible.

It seemed to work since the footsteps came and went without a shout of discovery.

"They are gone. Proceed."

I pushed off the wall and ran back to where I was, turning the corner and sliding my pointer finger against the recognition panel. I stared daggers at the slow-moving door and backed up as it reached further than expected. Before I passed through the doors, however, I made sure to leave evidence of my presence. A blood red 'T' painted across the recognition panel signified my middle—and preferred—name. I wanted everyone to know that I had gotten past their 'oh-so-mighty' security.

Ha! We'll see who will be looking down now.

I rubbed my hands together and grinned as laughter boomed in my head.

My evil cackle must have followed from my head to my lips because I heard Wren's voice from the earpiece say, "The door is starting to close." It was her subtle, honest way to get me to stop whatever I'm doing and focus on the task at hand.

"Right!" I nodded despite her inability to see me or my movements and charged forward. A chill suddenly went down my back and I realized the major temperature change. "Does your hacker information give temperature?" I asked Wren.

"The tunnels are sixty-two degrees. The rest of the building is seventy-four degrees. I packed a sweater in your backpack. You might want to take it out. It only gets colder from here."

"Wren, you really think of everything," I stated with a shake of my head. I ripped the backpack off my chest and stuck my hand into its depths. Feeling fabric, I latched onto it and yanked it out. I raised an eyebrow as my eyes fell upon the cream-colored apron gripped in the palm of my hand. "Uh, Wren?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why did you pack an apron?"

Silence returned my question. Then the sound of her clicking pen grew louder and faster. I smiled at her subtle reaction to embarrassment. Wren wasn't one to make mistakes, but she had been stressed. I probably should have taken indicative and packed, but I was too busy making the plans.

Instead of talking about it further, I reached my hand back in and pulled out a warm wool sweater. "I found the sweater. Thank you, Wren."

The clicking slowed and finally faded away. "You are welcome," she replied. Then I heard a different clicking sound from her end. "Turn right onto the next tunnel." I obeyed. "The specific door you are looking for should be coming up on your left. Do not forget your flashlight. I can not turn on the lights without setting off the alarms."

"Will do!" I pushed my running force and weight against the door with a glowing 'P' engraved into it. I let out a yelp as I bounced off and landed on the floor. "Oi, that hurt!"

"I forgot to mention that it is locked. I did not think it was necessary to mention."

"Next time I'd appreciate it if you did." I winced at the pain searing through my arm and back. "Can you open it? Or do I like need a password or fingerprint or whatever?"

"No."

"No?"

When she didn't explain further, I prompted her, "So how am I supposed to open this bad boy?"

"All the doors on this line of the tunnel have a different kind of lock. Probably because they are important."

"Prodigious Prep is more secure than the White House and all those fancy places protecting those special artifacts or papers and stuff. The whole place has got to be important."

"This section is more important."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Also, you have less than ten minutes before the heat sensors come back on."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "I thought I had over an hour!"

"Not anymore."

The pen clicking began again, signaling Wren's flying thoughts.

My flashlight was out and on in a flash, sweeping over the metal door.

There's not even a darn door handle.

Suddenly something caught my eye, though it wasn't exactly a visible feature. "Oh, I get it," I said with a grin. "Very clever." I stepped back before storming forward and swinging my knee to my stomach, only releasing it when all my built-up power was ready to fly. Aiming for the bottom left corner of the door, I slammed the heel of my boot into the metal. Pain shocked through my foot and up my leg upon contact but I ignored it, watching the door as it flung open and banged against the wall inside the room. My eyes went wide. "Very, very clever."

When attempting to take down a door—for example, those cool-looking police charging into the bad guy's house at the end of a movie—people usually kick the middle or high point of the door near the door handle (depending on their height). By securing those points in the door, it would be significantly harder to do so.

I knocked on the metal.

About seven-hundred percent harder.

It was an insecure, secure way of locking a door.

I wouldn't go for it, not just because of smart people like me—not to brag or anything, but because when it comes down to it, it's actually pretty dumb. What if someone slammed a large object into the door? Or attempted several times in different spots?

Right.

The people in charge of this place aren't that dumb.

"Are there cameras in this room?" I asked Wren through the earpiece. I wasn't going to foolishly charge into unknown waters. Not when I had already come this far.

"All clear," she answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes."

"Positive enough that you would bet your pet cat?"

The pen clicking stopped and was then replaced by keyboard tapping.

A few minutes of on and off typing and then, "Yes. There are no cameras in that room. And you have about five minutes."

Not much you could do in five minutes. But I knew how to be time efficient.

I bent my knees and jumped, latching onto the top of the metal door and allowing it to swing me forward. I jumped onto a table, gripping my flashlight tightly in my teeth. I ran across the table and leapt onto a couch.

I was avoiding the floor for a reason. This was a real-life 'The Floor is Lava'. I could recognize those rigged tiles anywhere.

Actually, I couldn't.

But the furniture was lined up like a perfect path, all leading to the final grand desk facing the entire room. Which, I'm guessing, is my end goal.

A smirk rose on my lips. "This really is too easy."

Too easy.

Too easy.

Too easy.

Alarms blared in my head before they sounded in the room, overtaking my hearing and vision. I tripped and tumbled to the ground, landing on the arm I had banged against the door before. I cried out as I skidded across the smooth floor and tumbled onto a soft rug, my back hitting against a chair.

"It seems as though you have been caught," Wren stated calmly.

"Oh, really? I thought those alarms were my pizza delivery," I gritted out as I cradled my arm to my chest. "And I was so close too," I hissed afterward.

"No, you were not."

"I was!" I whined. "Give me some credit, Wren!"

"I give you credit that you made it this far. But even if you had not triggered the alarm, it would have been physically impossible for you to get out in the three minutes you had left."

I blinked, the wall standing across from me suddenly clearing. "Wait, I didn't run out of time?" I questioned.

"You tripped one of the alarms," she replied.

The pieces clicked into my mind. "It took a few minutes for them to trigger, though."

"You understand what you did wrong?"

"There was a table on the right and a chair on the left. I assumed the table since a chair would get me nowhere, but it must have been a wheelie chair. Gosh, I'm so dumb."

Silence.

"'Oh, no you're not, Tempest!" I exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. "'You did so well! I'm so, so, so proud of you!'"

"I did not realize you were the self-praise type."

"That was what you were supposed to say!"

Pause. "Oh."

Before I could say another word, tramping footfalls sounded from outside. I raised my head and watched as people swarmed in like bugs, guns and blinding flashlights pointed at me.

"Gosh, you guys look so tense," I said, closing my eyes and moving my arms casually. I leaned back and used my arms to jump into a standing position. I walked forward, staring straight into the barrel of the gun closest to me. "No use threatening me. Not only do I know that those guns aren't actually loaded—it's against the rules for them to be," I pointed at the tip, "but I also think you might want to know what my name is." I paused to add to the tension. "Lumi Tempest Adair. Daughter of Daniel B. Adair. Top leading scientist at Amery University. But you might know him better as the richest man in the city. Actually, you probably know him well as both." I rested my hands on my hips and gave them all my sweetest smile.

Checkmate, boys.