summer of spy
rating: t-ish for tweenz bc language but not really
characters: carina, sarah, alex
a/n: i was driving to the airport to pick my big brother up and this popped in my head for god knows why because i honestly have no clue where it came from. it would seem i have a gift for absurd crack.
summary:
Camp Little Hawk.
43.7947 latitude, -97.1292 longitude.
Middle of nowhere South Dakota, discretely sandwiched between dinky Minnehaha County and even dinkier McCook county, ten miles west of the nearest town, lining the banks of North Island Lake - population: roughly 317.
Officially, they’re a sleep away co-ed summer camp where kids can be kids without ruining their parents’ houses, reputations, and the like.
Unofficially, they’re a sleep away co-ed summer camp where kids can be kids without ruining their parents’ houses, reputations, and the like while training to become elite spies.
They’re out on the lake during their free block, soaking in some sun on some giant inner tubes, just floating around.
It’s the fifth summer they spend together at Little Hawk and this is a part of the routine they’ve taken to over the years - checking the bulletin board, before coming out to discuss their possible courses of action at their leisure. No one is around to bother them, and the lake is calm enough that they stay in a comfortable spot that’s both close enough and far away enough from shore.
A sigh of longsuffering breaks their brief silence after they’ve paddled out, loosing a noncommittal hum in response, then “are you sure there aren’t any bank heists?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I triple-checked for you, Miller.”
When two super spies suddenly go soft for each other and settle down best they can, the end result is a one Carina Miller who is trained to be a spy practically since day one of her existence. Her parents will attest to letting her “choose her own path,” but for a pair of renown government agents, their lack of subtlety is deplorable.
(Carina’s first summer here a direct result of her asking her parents if she can go to summer gymnastics camp with her friend Mable, which they promptly took as general interest in any summer camp ever.)
As luck would have it, Carina actually finds a reason to finally enjoy the perks of being a spy’s daughter and she’s come back willingly ever since - despite how much of a front she puts up when her parents remind her to pack.
“So, what are we left with then, Walker,” another sigh of almost pure distain fills the void.
The part of their routine where they check the bulletin board for jobs is actually when Carina goes for a popsicle in the mess hall and Sarah is the diligent one.
Sarah Walker is Carina’s designated partner in crime, the one that keeps her in line while also managing to facilitate her whims. Sarah has some irrefutable charm that none of the counselors and directors alike can’t seem to deny; they’ve gotten away with boatloads with some quick talking from Sarah and Carina looking at least slightly guilty for whatever they’ve done.
Carina thinks it has something to do with Sarah’s dad - apparently, he’s some conman and Sarah gets put into the system, ends up here because she’s placed in foster care with the camp’s director. Then again, that could be why she gets away with nearly everything. But from what she tells Carina about her dad, he seems like a pretty cool guy.
It could go either way, really. Probably both.
Regardless, she’s the brains and Carina is…whatever Sarah tells her she’s supposed to be to get the job done (even if it’s not a prized bank heist).
“Uh, some software security thing that’s way too easy, and this little tower heist in the city,” Sarah replies, offhandedly, running her hands aimlessly across the top of the water.
Her tone is feigned distraction, but Carina perks up as soon as she hears ‘tower heist’ and sits up so fast to look at Sarah, she nearly tosses both her sunglasses and what’s left of her popsicle into the lake.
“What city?”
“Big Apple.”
“What do we have to do?”
“Infiltrate a fifty floor tower and get to the thirty-ninth floor to download a black box and release a dummy virus into their server.”
“Well, shit. Sign me up.”
“Way ahead of you, slowpoke.”
“Wait, you’re telling me you’re bringing the pipsqueak along for this?”
Carina knows her area of expertise isn’t exactly in reading the fine print on things, but surely, there isn’t anything anywhere that says that a rookie is required for a three man op. Sarah is clearly lacking the finesse she normally has, and it’s up to her to pick up the slack before this all goes to hell before it even starts. “She’s not even Level 6 yet,” she reminds her, as calmly as she can manage.
It doesn’t seem to register in Sarah’s head that she’s sending them to indefinite failure, because all she does is scrunch her forehead when she looks back at Carina and goes, “so?”, with some half shrug as she throws a thing of bungee cord in her pack.
“So, she’ll slow us down? Duh?”
She’s pointedly keeping her eyes in Sarah’s direction, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Alex, who’s already packed and waiting for them by the door. Acknowledging her would mean that Carina accepts her as the third man for their team and that is definitely not the case right now, or possibly ever, for that matter.
The kid isn’t coming with them - she just isn’t.
Sarah will understand soon.
Sarah doesn’t understand at all.
In fact, she doesn’t understand so much that - despite Carina’s perfectly logical explanation of why Alex McHugh shouldn’t be with them - the pipsqueak is still on the plane to New York with them. Sitting next to Carina.
Actually, make that sleeping next to Carina while using her shoulder as a pillow.
It’s not that the kid is sucky or anything; she’s by no means as good as Carina back then but she’s not a total failure, either, and she has some natural talent from what Carina sees. It’s more the principle of the matter, that a job like this should be done with the best team they could have. There has to be a better techie in the entire camp, or at the very least, someone who’s also Level 8 - going to 6 just makes them look so desperate, it’s leaving a bad taste in her mouth.
The feeling that’s gnawing at Carina doesn’t seem to be affecting Sarah at all, in fact she’s been happily going over schematics and whatever else she uses to prep before jobs on her tablet.
(Carina swears she’s enjoying the distress she’s causing because no one should smile that much looking at elevator shaft blueprints.)
At this point, anymore protest would fall on deaf ears and Carina might as well save her efforts for later because there is no way in hell this tater tot is going to ruin her perfect record. She’ll need all the energy she can get making sure Alex doesn’t royally screw them over within the first five minutes on the ground.
It’s going to be a very long, long weekend and it’s only Wednesday.
If she were anyone else, it’s probably a safe bet her jaw would be touching the floor right now, while she’s listening to Sarah lay out their game play.
They arrive in the city early Thursday morning, the heist planned for Sunday because that’s when the company closes completely and the only people that will be on the floors they’ll actually have to be on are from the security company that belongs to the tower. At this point, it starts to sound like the only actual challenge they’re going to face is that the thirty-ninth floor of anything isn’t exactly easily accessible.
Carina would suggest a drop in but any air support they want is something they’d have to procure on their own. They only get a couple hundred to pay cab fares and the hotel room they’re in with whatever they can scrounge up to help them.
She’s learned a long time ago that she should just leave logistics to Sarah - her ideas tend to never mind the restrictions (mostly because she doesn’t pay attention to them, but whatever).
That doesn’t mean she has to actually like what Sarah logics out, though.
Especially, when it sticks her to van duty.
“Van duty,” she grits through her teeth, practically seething as she shoots a less than civilized death glare at Sarah.
“Yes, van duty. Alex will go in and work up security, I’m taking recon outside, you’ll be in the van monitoring feeds.”
Sarah says it all so nonchalant, like Carina is normally left behind and there isn’t anything unusual with someone else taking point on her job. Someone who is desperately unqualified in comparison. It’s utter bullshit.
She makes sure to tell Sarah such, in less than pretty words when they’re alone. Carina isn’t happy about the kid being here, but she’s not that much of an asshole to make this into a scene in front of Alex. Everyone starts somewhere, this she understands; what she doesn’t understand is why she has to start with her.
There has to be plenty of other jobs Alex can use to prove herself. It’s not like Carina checks the bulletin board often, if at all, but the way Sarah always takes her sweet time looking at the thing before she finds something for them, is at least semi indicative of there being a sizeable collection. Certainly, a tower heist can’t be her first choice.
Also just as certain is that Alex can’t be their first choice for their third person. Carina trusts Sarah’s judgment but at the same time, it would’ve been nice to get a heads up. Maybe even a slight say in the matter, even if it won’t really amount to much after Sarah’s mind is made up.
Besides, the whole thing about “nobody being free this weekend” is utter crap. She knows for a fact that Zondra is lounging poolside, probably flirting with one of the senior counselors who are paying more attention to her cleavage than they are the children they’re supposed to be lifeguarding.
The fact of the matter is that no one tells her everything is going to be flipped upside down and she doesn’t appreciate it. It’s not so hard to tell people what they’re thinking. She does it consistently on a near hourly basis.
As Carina’s luck would have it, telling Sarah exactly what’s on her mind still doesn’t do anything to help her van predicament.
She suspects Sarah has built up a tolerance to this over the years and it’s lost its edge. (She also suspects that Sarah doesn't really listen to her while they unpack.)
Saying this is frustrating would be understatement of the century.
This is stupid.
Utterly, completely, entirely, insanely, indefinitely stupid and unfortunately, it’s nearly all her fault.
She could blame it on Sarah, even Alex for managing to get caught in a compromised position the middle of a laser grid, but there’s a nice place, square on her shoulders that have “blame” written neatly for it to go.
Truth be told, Carina becomes too lax as the job carries on. It’s not that she lets her guard down or anything, more like she gets overconfident with how everything is going.
Alex breaks through security just fine, tapping into the system, controlling their feeds, granting complete override access if necessary. Her skill with tech is actually quite impressive, and she manages to do all of this while whoever she’s conned is out of the room getting her coffee.
It’s enough to make Carina briefly double back on her initial conclusions of the girl but it doesn’t last too long. They’re back later in the night to get their plan into action and shit hits the fan real quick when Alex forgets to check for excess security in place outside of what’s standard for the tower.
Carina berates herself for letting such a rookie mistake slip through her fingers without even noticing and it’s because she starts to think that the pipsqueak is actually capable of being worthy for the job. Obviously she isn’t, and instead of Carina getting to say “I told you so” to Sarah, she’s stuck climbing six floors up an elevator shaft to go save her ass.
She has three more floors to go and currently only herself to tell “I told you so” to.
(she’s loathe to admit that she deserves it just ask much as the other two)
Luckily, the fortieth floor isn’t rigged as much as the thirty-ninth because it’s used by one of those gimmicky infomercial deals that con people in the middle of the night.
She momentarily finds it kind of weird that they’re not working at the times they’re running their shit to field orders and stuff, stopping to observe what ridiculous product they’re pushing here and grabs a jar of some florescent colored goop that’s supposed to be a deceptively strong version of Flubber.
As soon as she picks it up, Alex’s voice is in her ear to tell her to hurry up, which is completely rude on so many accounts. Carina is basically right there and it’s not like they can really do much until Sarah finds a way to switch off the power, anyways.
Besides, Carina has to crawl through vents and she’s sure as hell taking her time before getting into that. Being tall and lithe are useful in plenty of other endeavors but its seems like it’s a complete hindrance when trying to turn and angle through narrow shafts. She entertains the idea of just staying put until Sarah comes through but she’s already made it most of the way, so it’d be dumb to just wait in a ventilation shaft for kicks and giggles.
“Finally,” Alex groans when she hears Carina moving the grate that’s above her. Carina really doesn’t appreciate the attitude because she got herself into this mess in the first place.
Sure, she’ll take the blame for not keeping better tabs on the kid, however, it is nowhere near her fault that Alex is too distracted fiddling with her phone or something to check where she’s walking. There’s only so much she can see from a van.
“You keep it up with that mouth of yours, and I’ll just let you hang out there til Walker gets her ass around to cutting the lights.”
To get her point across, Carina slides up against the side of the shaft, getting as comfortable as she can manage while placing the gear in her lap.
“Seriously? I’ve been here forever.”
“Oh, boohoo, pipsqueak. It’s barely been twenty minutes, you’re fine. I, on the other hand, have suffered a great amount of trouble after you got caught in a trap you learn to disable in arts and crafts during your first summer.”
For a second, she thinks she’s trying too hard to milk it because she’s only met with silence and the occasional fuming sound from down below. Carina is just about to relent when a final sigh of longsuffering stops her movements.
“Thank you for coming to save me,” Alex says, turning her face up so she can see Carina. It has a touch of something when she says it, although Carina doesn’t mind much. She isn’t expecting this, so it’s really only fair if she tries to savor the moment.
“And?”
“And…I’m sorry I made a stupid rookie mistake and needed saving in the first place?”
(Carina doesn’t really blame her much for the uppercut she gets to the solar plexus once they’re clear.
It kind of sucks that it’s harder to breathe now, though.)
The most infuriating thing about summer camp jobs is that they’re all set ups - each and every single one of them.
None of them are actually real, just fake jobs that come from people who hire their cover company to break in and test their security. They think that it’s professionals who come in and break down their systems and outsmart their prized heads of security. In actuality, it’s all the kids that get sent to Little Hawk each summer.
It’s a way for them to prep for their real training later on, when they’re in college or something. The environment is controlled enough that no one will ever be in any serious trouble if they’re caught and it’s okay if anyone ever fails.
The deception is fun and being able to do jobs is even more so, but the worst part of everything is that the camp directors have taken to making job completion huge jokes.
So, instead of downloading super sensitive intel, they downloaded that weird movie about old spies, and instead of releasing a virus into their server, they actually just send out a mass email with a video compilation of puppies falling.
And when they’ve gotten clear out of the tower, there is a limo waiting to pick them up with little cupcakes that spell out “congratulations” inside.
Seriously?
This ruins all her badassery she just got.
“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Alex asks for the fifth time since they’ve gotten back to the hotel room.
Sarah and Alex gleefully decide to change into their pajamas and hook up the laptop to watch the movie they just got to celebrate a (fake) job well done. They’ve put the cupcakes out onto a plate on the coffee table and somehow, one of them manages to make a mini bonfire in the wastebasket without catching anything on fire and they’re trying to make smores.
This is a textbook definition of insult to injury so, no, Carina will indefinitely not be joining them.
(“Yes, I’m very sure. Try not to burn the whole place down while I’m asleep, pipsqueak.”)
It’s against her principles.
Then again so is making a smore the wrong way because right now, Alex is currently putting the chocolate on the top cracker that’s not even a full cracker and Sarah isn’t doing a single damn thing to help her and just -
No.
But this doesn’t mean she’s joining them.
Carina is just helping the rookie out because there should be no one on earth who goes to summer camp - even if it is spy summer camp - for three years and can’t make a smore right. She’s doing the world a public service, not celebrating a fake job.
She’s not.
If Carina stays for the whole movie, it’s because the dumb pipsqueak is a slow learner and she has zero control over that.
“Hey, pipsqueak!” she calls out from the front porch of their cabin.
Alex is across the ways, eying the bulletin board like it’s actually something interesting and not a corkboard with index cards haphazardly pinned up on it. That’s a nasty habit that needs to be dealt with right now.
As Carina makes her way over to where Alex is, she takes her eyes off the board and gives Carina a questioning look while crossing her arms over her chest like she’s something important and Carina has just interrupted something extremely important. The thought makes Carina laugh out loud a little and amuses her enough to reach out a hand ruffle the kid’s hair up before patting her cheek a few times. To her credit, Alex doesn’t flinch or do much in response and just waits for Carina to speak up again.
“Come on, let’s go grab a popsicle from the mess.” She swings an arm up over Alex’s shoulders and pulls her into what’s more of a headlock than an embrace, turning both of them around to face her cabin, “Walker likes doing homework, so we leave that fun stuff to her.”
Alex gives her a skeptical look as best she can from her position, eying Carina’s shoulder more than anything. Obviously, she ignores this, shooting her own smug look to Sarah who’s finally left their cabin.
“See?” she says as Sarah rolls her eyes at them, mostly at Carina, before making a big gesture that more or less tells them to get on with it. In case they’re unsure, Sarah tells them such not long after (“get the hell away from my board, amateurs”) and Carina ushers the kid away to the mess hall.
They walk in together in silence, Alex giving up on trying to get out of the hold Carina has on her. Carina gets them both popsicles and they grab inner tubes, carefully paddling themselves out to the spot on the lake that’s just right, and there they wait in more silence.
After the sun hits just the right angle directly above them, and enough of her popsicle is gone to reveal half the joke answer (“how does the ocean greet the shore?” “it waves”), Alex finally speaks up.
“I was trying to find a job, you know.”
Carina smiles to herself, dumb kid hasn’t caught on yet. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I have to -“
“Shhh, just relax,” she mumbles around her popsicle. Sarah should be joining them any minute, and the alone time she gets before they talk shop is Carina’s favorite part of any given day. “It’s taken care of,” she reassures with the rest of her popsicle stuffed in her mouth.
Surely enough, Carina hears tiny splashes coming towards their direction, pops her head up and tips her sunglasses back enough to avoid the glare to see Sarah making her way over.
Before Carina can ask what’s on the tip of her tongue, Sarah beats her to the punch and says, “we got a bank heist,” full of satisfaction like she managed to get it through some means other than just pulling the index card off the board and stashing it so no one else can get it. It’s fine though, because Sarah always feels really good after scouring down a pretty awesome job and bank heists are Carina’s favorite - she’s definitely not going to be the one to argue.
Carina’s so wrapped up in her excitement over finally getting a bank job that she almost misses when Alex speaks up again; the kid can be weirdly quiet at times, hence the whole pipsqueak thing. She’s also pretty short which works out in Carina’s favor when decides on the nickname.
“We?” she asks, understanding of why she’s out here finally starting to dawn on her.
“We,” Sarah says, with a nod and a smile playing on her lips. Alex’s eyes quickly dart to Carina, who’s now sitting more upright in her tube, looking expectantly for her to say something, too. Apparently, it’s not enough for the kid to hear it from just one of them.
She still hasn’t figured out that Carina generally has zero say in whatever they do, and when she does, it’s always what Sarah already had to say. Carina finds it doesn’t really bother her as much as she thinks it would, it’s nice being considered a decision maker. No wonder Sarah loves it, the cheeky little bastard.
“Yeah,” she finally sighs, somewhat reluctantly. She shakes her head half-heartedly with a shrug that’s all betrayed by a smile that’s hard to miss.
“We.”
characters: carina, sarah, alex
a/n: i was driving to the airport to pick my big brother up and this popped in my head for god knows why because i honestly have no clue where it came from. it would seem i have a gift for absurd crack.
summary:
Camp Little Hawk.
43.7947 latitude, -97.1292 longitude.
Middle of nowhere South Dakota, discretely sandwiched between dinky Minnehaha County and even dinkier McCook county, ten miles west of the nearest town, lining the banks of North Island Lake - population: roughly 317.
Officially, they’re a sleep away co-ed summer camp where kids can be kids without ruining their parents’ houses, reputations, and the like.
Unofficially, they’re a sleep away co-ed summer camp where kids can be kids without ruining their parents’ houses, reputations, and the like while training to become elite spies.
They’re out on the lake during their free block, soaking in some sun on some giant inner tubes, just floating around.
It’s the fifth summer they spend together at Little Hawk and this is a part of the routine they’ve taken to over the years - checking the bulletin board, before coming out to discuss their possible courses of action at their leisure. No one is around to bother them, and the lake is calm enough that they stay in a comfortable spot that’s both close enough and far away enough from shore.
A sigh of longsuffering breaks their brief silence after they’ve paddled out, loosing a noncommittal hum in response, then “are you sure there aren’t any bank heists?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I triple-checked for you, Miller.”
When two super spies suddenly go soft for each other and settle down best they can, the end result is a one Carina Miller who is trained to be a spy practically since day one of her existence. Her parents will attest to letting her “choose her own path,” but for a pair of renown government agents, their lack of subtlety is deplorable.
(Carina’s first summer here a direct result of her asking her parents if she can go to summer gymnastics camp with her friend Mable, which they promptly took as general interest in any summer camp ever.)
As luck would have it, Carina actually finds a reason to finally enjoy the perks of being a spy’s daughter and she’s come back willingly ever since - despite how much of a front she puts up when her parents remind her to pack.
“So, what are we left with then, Walker,” another sigh of almost pure distain fills the void.
The part of their routine where they check the bulletin board for jobs is actually when Carina goes for a popsicle in the mess hall and Sarah is the diligent one.
Sarah Walker is Carina’s designated partner in crime, the one that keeps her in line while also managing to facilitate her whims. Sarah has some irrefutable charm that none of the counselors and directors alike can’t seem to deny; they’ve gotten away with boatloads with some quick talking from Sarah and Carina looking at least slightly guilty for whatever they’ve done.
Carina thinks it has something to do with Sarah’s dad - apparently, he’s some conman and Sarah gets put into the system, ends up here because she’s placed in foster care with the camp’s director. Then again, that could be why she gets away with nearly everything. But from what she tells Carina about her dad, he seems like a pretty cool guy.
It could go either way, really. Probably both.
Regardless, she’s the brains and Carina is…whatever Sarah tells her she’s supposed to be to get the job done (even if it’s not a prized bank heist).
“Uh, some software security thing that’s way too easy, and this little tower heist in the city,” Sarah replies, offhandedly, running her hands aimlessly across the top of the water.
Her tone is feigned distraction, but Carina perks up as soon as she hears ‘tower heist’ and sits up so fast to look at Sarah, she nearly tosses both her sunglasses and what’s left of her popsicle into the lake.
“What city?”
“Big Apple.”
“What do we have to do?”
“Infiltrate a fifty floor tower and get to the thirty-ninth floor to download a black box and release a dummy virus into their server.”
“Well, shit. Sign me up.”
“Way ahead of you, slowpoke.”
“Wait, you’re telling me you’re bringing the pipsqueak along for this?”
Carina knows her area of expertise isn’t exactly in reading the fine print on things, but surely, there isn’t anything anywhere that says that a rookie is required for a three man op. Sarah is clearly lacking the finesse she normally has, and it’s up to her to pick up the slack before this all goes to hell before it even starts. “She’s not even Level 6 yet,” she reminds her, as calmly as she can manage.
It doesn’t seem to register in Sarah’s head that she’s sending them to indefinite failure, because all she does is scrunch her forehead when she looks back at Carina and goes, “so?”, with some half shrug as she throws a thing of bungee cord in her pack.
“So, she’ll slow us down? Duh?”
She’s pointedly keeping her eyes in Sarah’s direction, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Alex, who’s already packed and waiting for them by the door. Acknowledging her would mean that Carina accepts her as the third man for their team and that is definitely not the case right now, or possibly ever, for that matter.
The kid isn’t coming with them - she just isn’t.
Sarah will understand soon.
Sarah doesn’t understand at all.
In fact, she doesn’t understand so much that - despite Carina’s perfectly logical explanation of why Alex McHugh shouldn’t be with them - the pipsqueak is still on the plane to New York with them. Sitting next to Carina.
Actually, make that sleeping next to Carina while using her shoulder as a pillow.
It’s not that the kid is sucky or anything; she’s by no means as good as Carina back then but she’s not a total failure, either, and she has some natural talent from what Carina sees. It’s more the principle of the matter, that a job like this should be done with the best team they could have. There has to be a better techie in the entire camp, or at the very least, someone who’s also Level 8 - going to 6 just makes them look so desperate, it’s leaving a bad taste in her mouth.
The feeling that’s gnawing at Carina doesn’t seem to be affecting Sarah at all, in fact she’s been happily going over schematics and whatever else she uses to prep before jobs on her tablet.
(Carina swears she’s enjoying the distress she’s causing because no one should smile that much looking at elevator shaft blueprints.)
At this point, anymore protest would fall on deaf ears and Carina might as well save her efforts for later because there is no way in hell this tater tot is going to ruin her perfect record. She’ll need all the energy she can get making sure Alex doesn’t royally screw them over within the first five minutes on the ground.
It’s going to be a very long, long weekend and it’s only Wednesday.
If she were anyone else, it’s probably a safe bet her jaw would be touching the floor right now, while she’s listening to Sarah lay out their game play.
They arrive in the city early Thursday morning, the heist planned for Sunday because that’s when the company closes completely and the only people that will be on the floors they’ll actually have to be on are from the security company that belongs to the tower. At this point, it starts to sound like the only actual challenge they’re going to face is that the thirty-ninth floor of anything isn’t exactly easily accessible.
Carina would suggest a drop in but any air support they want is something they’d have to procure on their own. They only get a couple hundred to pay cab fares and the hotel room they’re in with whatever they can scrounge up to help them.
She’s learned a long time ago that she should just leave logistics to Sarah - her ideas tend to never mind the restrictions (mostly because she doesn’t pay attention to them, but whatever).
That doesn’t mean she has to actually like what Sarah logics out, though.
Especially, when it sticks her to van duty.
“Van duty,” she grits through her teeth, practically seething as she shoots a less than civilized death glare at Sarah.
“Yes, van duty. Alex will go in and work up security, I’m taking recon outside, you’ll be in the van monitoring feeds.”
Sarah says it all so nonchalant, like Carina is normally left behind and there isn’t anything unusual with someone else taking point on her job. Someone who is desperately unqualified in comparison. It’s utter bullshit.
She makes sure to tell Sarah such, in less than pretty words when they’re alone. Carina isn’t happy about the kid being here, but she’s not that much of an asshole to make this into a scene in front of Alex. Everyone starts somewhere, this she understands; what she doesn’t understand is why she has to start with her.
There has to be plenty of other jobs Alex can use to prove herself. It’s not like Carina checks the bulletin board often, if at all, but the way Sarah always takes her sweet time looking at the thing before she finds something for them, is at least semi indicative of there being a sizeable collection. Certainly, a tower heist can’t be her first choice.
Also just as certain is that Alex can’t be their first choice for their third person. Carina trusts Sarah’s judgment but at the same time, it would’ve been nice to get a heads up. Maybe even a slight say in the matter, even if it won’t really amount to much after Sarah’s mind is made up.
Besides, the whole thing about “nobody being free this weekend” is utter crap. She knows for a fact that Zondra is lounging poolside, probably flirting with one of the senior counselors who are paying more attention to her cleavage than they are the children they’re supposed to be lifeguarding.
The fact of the matter is that no one tells her everything is going to be flipped upside down and she doesn’t appreciate it. It’s not so hard to tell people what they’re thinking. She does it consistently on a near hourly basis.
As Carina’s luck would have it, telling Sarah exactly what’s on her mind still doesn’t do anything to help her van predicament.
She suspects Sarah has built up a tolerance to this over the years and it’s lost its edge. (She also suspects that Sarah doesn't really listen to her while they unpack.)
Saying this is frustrating would be understatement of the century.
This is stupid.
Utterly, completely, entirely, insanely, indefinitely stupid and unfortunately, it’s nearly all her fault.
She could blame it on Sarah, even Alex for managing to get caught in a compromised position the middle of a laser grid, but there’s a nice place, square on her shoulders that have “blame” written neatly for it to go.
Truth be told, Carina becomes too lax as the job carries on. It’s not that she lets her guard down or anything, more like she gets overconfident with how everything is going.
Alex breaks through security just fine, tapping into the system, controlling their feeds, granting complete override access if necessary. Her skill with tech is actually quite impressive, and she manages to do all of this while whoever she’s conned is out of the room getting her coffee.
It’s enough to make Carina briefly double back on her initial conclusions of the girl but it doesn’t last too long. They’re back later in the night to get their plan into action and shit hits the fan real quick when Alex forgets to check for excess security in place outside of what’s standard for the tower.
Carina berates herself for letting such a rookie mistake slip through her fingers without even noticing and it’s because she starts to think that the pipsqueak is actually capable of being worthy for the job. Obviously she isn’t, and instead of Carina getting to say “I told you so” to Sarah, she’s stuck climbing six floors up an elevator shaft to go save her ass.
She has three more floors to go and currently only herself to tell “I told you so” to.
(she’s loathe to admit that she deserves it just ask much as the other two)
Luckily, the fortieth floor isn’t rigged as much as the thirty-ninth because it’s used by one of those gimmicky infomercial deals that con people in the middle of the night.
She momentarily finds it kind of weird that they’re not working at the times they’re running their shit to field orders and stuff, stopping to observe what ridiculous product they’re pushing here and grabs a jar of some florescent colored goop that’s supposed to be a deceptively strong version of Flubber.
As soon as she picks it up, Alex’s voice is in her ear to tell her to hurry up, which is completely rude on so many accounts. Carina is basically right there and it’s not like they can really do much until Sarah finds a way to switch off the power, anyways.
Besides, Carina has to crawl through vents and she’s sure as hell taking her time before getting into that. Being tall and lithe are useful in plenty of other endeavors but its seems like it’s a complete hindrance when trying to turn and angle through narrow shafts. She entertains the idea of just staying put until Sarah comes through but she’s already made it most of the way, so it’d be dumb to just wait in a ventilation shaft for kicks and giggles.
“Finally,” Alex groans when she hears Carina moving the grate that’s above her. Carina really doesn’t appreciate the attitude because she got herself into this mess in the first place.
Sure, she’ll take the blame for not keeping better tabs on the kid, however, it is nowhere near her fault that Alex is too distracted fiddling with her phone or something to check where she’s walking. There’s only so much she can see from a van.
“You keep it up with that mouth of yours, and I’ll just let you hang out there til Walker gets her ass around to cutting the lights.”
To get her point across, Carina slides up against the side of the shaft, getting as comfortable as she can manage while placing the gear in her lap.
“Seriously? I’ve been here forever.”
“Oh, boohoo, pipsqueak. It’s barely been twenty minutes, you’re fine. I, on the other hand, have suffered a great amount of trouble after you got caught in a trap you learn to disable in arts and crafts during your first summer.”
For a second, she thinks she’s trying too hard to milk it because she’s only met with silence and the occasional fuming sound from down below. Carina is just about to relent when a final sigh of longsuffering stops her movements.
“Thank you for coming to save me,” Alex says, turning her face up so she can see Carina. It has a touch of something when she says it, although Carina doesn’t mind much. She isn’t expecting this, so it’s really only fair if she tries to savor the moment.
“And?”
“And…I’m sorry I made a stupid rookie mistake and needed saving in the first place?”
(Carina doesn’t really blame her much for the uppercut she gets to the solar plexus once they’re clear.
It kind of sucks that it’s harder to breathe now, though.)
The most infuriating thing about summer camp jobs is that they’re all set ups - each and every single one of them.
None of them are actually real, just fake jobs that come from people who hire their cover company to break in and test their security. They think that it’s professionals who come in and break down their systems and outsmart their prized heads of security. In actuality, it’s all the kids that get sent to Little Hawk each summer.
It’s a way for them to prep for their real training later on, when they’re in college or something. The environment is controlled enough that no one will ever be in any serious trouble if they’re caught and it’s okay if anyone ever fails.
The deception is fun and being able to do jobs is even more so, but the worst part of everything is that the camp directors have taken to making job completion huge jokes.
So, instead of downloading super sensitive intel, they downloaded that weird movie about old spies, and instead of releasing a virus into their server, they actually just send out a mass email with a video compilation of puppies falling.
And when they’ve gotten clear out of the tower, there is a limo waiting to pick them up with little cupcakes that spell out “congratulations” inside.
Seriously?
This ruins all her badassery she just got.
“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Alex asks for the fifth time since they’ve gotten back to the hotel room.
Sarah and Alex gleefully decide to change into their pajamas and hook up the laptop to watch the movie they just got to celebrate a (fake) job well done. They’ve put the cupcakes out onto a plate on the coffee table and somehow, one of them manages to make a mini bonfire in the wastebasket without catching anything on fire and they’re trying to make smores.
This is a textbook definition of insult to injury so, no, Carina will indefinitely not be joining them.
(“Yes, I’m very sure. Try not to burn the whole place down while I’m asleep, pipsqueak.”)
It’s against her principles.
Then again so is making a smore the wrong way because right now, Alex is currently putting the chocolate on the top cracker that’s not even a full cracker and Sarah isn’t doing a single damn thing to help her and just -
No.
But this doesn’t mean she’s joining them.
Carina is just helping the rookie out because there should be no one on earth who goes to summer camp - even if it is spy summer camp - for three years and can’t make a smore right. She’s doing the world a public service, not celebrating a fake job.
She’s not.
If Carina stays for the whole movie, it’s because the dumb pipsqueak is a slow learner and she has zero control over that.
“Hey, pipsqueak!” she calls out from the front porch of their cabin.
Alex is across the ways, eying the bulletin board like it’s actually something interesting and not a corkboard with index cards haphazardly pinned up on it. That’s a nasty habit that needs to be dealt with right now.
As Carina makes her way over to where Alex is, she takes her eyes off the board and gives Carina a questioning look while crossing her arms over her chest like she’s something important and Carina has just interrupted something extremely important. The thought makes Carina laugh out loud a little and amuses her enough to reach out a hand ruffle the kid’s hair up before patting her cheek a few times. To her credit, Alex doesn’t flinch or do much in response and just waits for Carina to speak up again.
“Come on, let’s go grab a popsicle from the mess.” She swings an arm up over Alex’s shoulders and pulls her into what’s more of a headlock than an embrace, turning both of them around to face her cabin, “Walker likes doing homework, so we leave that fun stuff to her.”
Alex gives her a skeptical look as best she can from her position, eying Carina’s shoulder more than anything. Obviously, she ignores this, shooting her own smug look to Sarah who’s finally left their cabin.
“See?” she says as Sarah rolls her eyes at them, mostly at Carina, before making a big gesture that more or less tells them to get on with it. In case they’re unsure, Sarah tells them such not long after (“get the hell away from my board, amateurs”) and Carina ushers the kid away to the mess hall.
They walk in together in silence, Alex giving up on trying to get out of the hold Carina has on her. Carina gets them both popsicles and they grab inner tubes, carefully paddling themselves out to the spot on the lake that’s just right, and there they wait in more silence.
After the sun hits just the right angle directly above them, and enough of her popsicle is gone to reveal half the joke answer (“how does the ocean greet the shore?” “it waves”), Alex finally speaks up.
“I was trying to find a job, you know.”
Carina smiles to herself, dumb kid hasn’t caught on yet. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I have to -“
“Shhh, just relax,” she mumbles around her popsicle. Sarah should be joining them any minute, and the alone time she gets before they talk shop is Carina’s favorite part of any given day. “It’s taken care of,” she reassures with the rest of her popsicle stuffed in her mouth.
Surely enough, Carina hears tiny splashes coming towards their direction, pops her head up and tips her sunglasses back enough to avoid the glare to see Sarah making her way over.
Before Carina can ask what’s on the tip of her tongue, Sarah beats her to the punch and says, “we got a bank heist,” full of satisfaction like she managed to get it through some means other than just pulling the index card off the board and stashing it so no one else can get it. It’s fine though, because Sarah always feels really good after scouring down a pretty awesome job and bank heists are Carina’s favorite - she’s definitely not going to be the one to argue.
Carina’s so wrapped up in her excitement over finally getting a bank job that she almost misses when Alex speaks up again; the kid can be weirdly quiet at times, hence the whole pipsqueak thing. She’s also pretty short which works out in Carina’s favor when decides on the nickname.
“We?” she asks, understanding of why she’s out here finally starting to dawn on her.
“We,” Sarah says, with a nod and a smile playing on her lips. Alex’s eyes quickly dart to Carina, who’s now sitting more upright in her tube, looking expectantly for her to say something, too. Apparently, it’s not enough for the kid to hear it from just one of them.
She still hasn’t figured out that Carina generally has zero say in whatever they do, and when she does, it’s always what Sarah already had to say. Carina finds it doesn’t really bother her as much as she thinks it would, it’s nice being considered a decision maker. No wonder Sarah loves it, the cheeky little bastard.
“Yeah,” she finally sighs, somewhat reluctantly. She shakes her head half-heartedly with a shrug that’s all betrayed by a smile that’s hard to miss.
“We.”