by Alex Howell
At any rate now closing in just a few feet from Case, with his hostage raised high, the man was coming in for the kill. But little did the assailant know, that within that oily residue splattered across his head and now dripping down his face were millions upon millions of specially bio-engineered mites. These mites were like scabies and bird lice on steroids and soon enough the attacker began to realize that something was most definitely not right.
The man suddenly hesitated in obvious distress as he felt millions of the mites crawling all over his head, face, and neck. Then the biting began and unable to control himself any longer, he let go of his hostage so that he could scratch at the invisible army attacking his face. The hostage didn’t know what was happening, but taking his opportunity, he ran right off the stage.
Case then sat back and watched the fireworks as the remaining assailant now down on his knees violently scratched his face and head until he was bleeding and clumps of his hair were raining down onto the platform. These mites as dangerous as they were, had been specially fitted with nano chips that could be used to deactivate them. Case not wanting to create a new bubonic plague to rock Europe, pulled a control stick out of his pocket and pressed the deactivation button.
Upon doing so, the nervous system of the mite’s became immobilized, keeping the nasty critters frozen in place until they all perished of natural causes. As Case took one last look at the gunman curled up in the fetal position on the stage, he knew that his work was done. As such he leapt off the stage and pushed and shoved his way right through the bewildered crowd, making his exit out the back door of the stadium. Whether anyone else happened to realize it or not—his mission was complete.
MASON’S HOUSE, BALTIMORE, MARYLAND, 1 WEEK LATER
Mason was seated on his living room couch when the front door burst open and Clara came through screaming, “Ahh! Hah! Ah!! Ha hah!” And as she sat down on the couch next to him with an open envelope in hand, emotional high-pitched squeals were soon to follow.
As it was, Clara was one of those girls with the strange trait of sounding like she was crying when she laughed, or was overly excited. But in this moment her tears, laughs, cries of anguish and joy seemed to blur into the same exact high-pitched emission of excitement.
Mason not quite sure if she was happy or under attack, tensed up as he asked, “Clara! What is it!” But fortunately, as she waved her acceptance letter from the CIA in front of his face coupled with her exclamation of, “I did it!! I did it!!”
Mason now overcome with her and his emotion combined, stood up and embraced his daughter, allowing the tears to fall. Regaining his composure, Mason then pulled away as he told her, “Now that you are embarking upon your chosen career path Clara, I have something I want to give you.”
Mason then pulled the drawer of the coffee table in front of them open, and pulled out what looked like an old shoe box, with a pink bow haphazardly slapped on the lid. Clara thinking to herself how funny it was that her dad couldn’t be bothered to get a decent gift box yet made the effort to put a pink bow on top, couldn’t help but laugh, “What—Dad what is this?”
As she put the old box on her lap she then joked, “Don’t tell me your giving me your old sneakers.”
Mason solemnly remarked, “No—no it’s not sneakers. But something in your line of work that you might find useful. I know that it has served me well over the years.”
Knowing that her dad was being serious and not able to take the suspense any longer, she slid the pink bow decorated shoe box lid off and was surprised to see her dad’s service revolver nestled inside. A gun isn’t usually the kind of gift that a father would give his daughter, but then again, they weren’t your usual family. Mason knew that Clara wasn’t joining the CIA to do paperwork and watch the daisy’s grow, she was going to be in the field chasing dangerous criminals.
Giving her his weapon was a sign that he both approved of the risk she was taking and that he was offering his blessing in the best way he could—by giving her his own weapon. Clara realizing as much suddenly burst into a fresh round of tears, as she put the box back on the coffee table. She then turned to Mason who began to cry as well, and put her arms around him and held him tight.
5
Training Day
LATER THAT DAY AT A GUN RANGE ON THE EDGE OF BALTIMORE, MARYLAND.
It was just a few days until Clara was going to start on with the CIA, and Mason wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. Knowing the crash course, the CIA was going to put her through, Mason wanted to give her as much of an edge as possible. It was for this reason that the two of them were standing around at a gun range on the outskirts of Baltimore, Maryland.
Clara was a good shot but he wanted to help her hone and refine her reflexes. As she held the gun back—his own old gun that he had given her as a graduation gift—he couldn’t help but be proud. This would, admittedly seem to be a rather unique form of father and daughter bonding to outside onlookers but for Mason and Clara it was the best way they could possibly show their affection.
He watched with pride as she hit target after target. But as much as he admired her aim, he could see that she was a little shaky with the recoil. And grabbing her forearm as she aimed, he directed her, “Clara, you are doing great. But you need to make sure that your arm is steady.”
Mason then moved her hand to the back of the gun, and allowed her other hand to clasp around her fingers, before announcing, “There. That’s it.”
He then directed her, “Now put your feet apart and make a wide stance.”
Clara putting her feet far apart then positioned herself just as instructed and started firing off round after round. This time she was shooting like an expert, hitting dead center into the target and handling the recoil like a seasoned pro.
As he watched her progress, Mason felt as if he was watching the torch being passed to the next generation. He had spent his entire life on dangerous mission after dangerous mission. First with the SEALS and then as a private contractor with Onyx. But after the episode of a year ago in which he had to confront a group of terrorists hellbent on hunting done navy SEAL families, he found himself having to question his very trajectory in life.
What was the point of all this violence that was following him and his family? Needing a break, Mason decided to call it quits. He had finally reached his capacity for killing and fighting, and he knew that he had served his country to his fullest. It was after that last mission in which he was forced to see the worst of humanity one last time as he saved a former SEAL family from the clutches of a terrorist group, that he decided to retire and spend the last few years of his life with his wife and daughter.
As he stood with Clara in that shooting range, he had come to realize that he had quite a bit to be thankful for, and despite the hardship and difficulty that they had been through in the intervening years, he wouldn’t change a minute of it, if it meant that they couldn’t be right where they were today.
He was more than happy to help his daughter into this new phase of her life. If she wanted to be a CIA agent, nothing made Mason happier than to help her become the best CIA operative ever to grace the recruit rolls of Langley, Virginia. Mason was more than happy to help her, he just hoped that her career would be safer and less consuming than his was.
After gun training, Mason took Clara on a bit of a road trip, up to the most remote hiking trail he could think of, nestled in Maryland’s Catoctin Mountain Park. As they walked down a narrow rocky trail with brush growing on either side, Clara remarked, “You know I like to walk on nature trails as much as anyone else, but this isn’t a nature trail as much as it’s just a break in the wilderness.”
Mason hacking away at some of the foliage with a knife he always had handy, laughed, “Well—if you think this is rough you should have seen the rainforest that me and your step mom hacked our way through chasing after South American drug lords.”
Mason was referring to a previous Onyx mission which had sent them through
the thick rain forested regions on the edge of Brazil. Clara was still in school at the time, and recalled, “Yeah… I wondered why you wouldn’t pick up the phone for a couple of days.”
Mason suddenly feeling a pang of guilt for all those times that he had indeed disappeared from his daughter’s life sighed, “Yeah… sorry my work always took me so far away from you.”
Clara kicking a few rocks as she progressed up a dusty incline assured him, “Oh don’t worry about it. I think I turned out alright regardless.”
Mason following her up the rising slope of the path, chuckled, “You do?”
Clara stopped and looked at her father, “Of course. I don’t think I would be nearly as resilient as I am if it weren’t for you always instilling such a sense of self-reliance into me.”
Watching Clara as she continued walking in front of him with her light brown hair bouncing behind her shoulders, she reminded him of her mother.
Before he knew it, he was remarking out loud, “If only your mother was here….”
A remark which made Clara immediately stop what she was doing and turn around, as she softly inquired, “Dad… Are you alright?”
Mason stepped toward her and took her by the hand as he told her, “I’m just fine sweet heart. It’s just—it’s just that you don’t know how proud you make me.”
It was right in the middle of this heartwarming moment that they both heard an eerie howling noise right behind them. Clara nearly jumped out of her skin, and would have bolted in the other direction if it wasn’t for the fact that her father was holding her hand, anchoring her in place.
Mason on the other hand had a simultaneously different reaction as his muscles tensed and he became as solid as a statue. In the classic flight or fight response, Clara was ready to take off while Mason was obviously ready to choose the latter.
Slowly turning around however, Mason saw what their antagonist was as he shouted, “It’s a freaking bobcat! You’ve got to be kidding me!”
And sure enough, hunched down on all fours as if it were about to pounce, a bobcat had positioned itself in the middle of the trail, standing at the ready. About twice as big as a domestic cat—while not as big as a mountain lion, the bobcat could still be intimidating. And this one was certainly trying to seem as such, as it reared back its pointy black-tipped ears and barred its fangs.
Clara with a bit of a quaver in her voice remarked, “Umm… Maybe its marking its territory!”
Her father wasn’t having it however, as Mason answered, “Territory my ass—I’m not letting this crazy assed cat block us from continuing down the trail!”
Mason, letting go of Clara’s hand then tried to take a step forward, but the cat reared up as if it were about to strike and let out a loud “Ywwowwll!!!!” sound.
Clara grabbing her dad’s arm cautioned, “Dad—watch out!”
As Mason hesitated, Clara then warned, “You know what… this thing’s not normal! I think it might have rabies!”
To which Mason muttered. “Rabies?”
Clara nodded, “Yeah… and if it does, you don’t want to go anywhere near it.”
Mason fully realized however, the way this cat was acting, the second he turned his back it was probably going to jump on him. Instead he told Clara, “Okay—this is what we’re going to do. We need to back away from it nice and slow. Just follow my lead.”
Mason and Clara then began to slowly back up down the trail. When he thought they were a good distance away Mason then turned to his daughter and told her, “See it wasn’t that bad was it?”
But right when he took his eyes off of the enraged cat, it leapt right at him. Fortunately for Mason, Clara who was holding a thick tree branch-turned hiking stick, saw the cat coming and by pure reflex struck it down with her stick. She hit the cat as if it were a baseball and the tree branch a Louisville slugger.
The next thing they knew was the sound of cracking bones, howling, and a bobcat flying the other direction into the brush. Mason realizing that all of her training must be taking hold commended her, “You’ve got some kind of reflexes Clara, that was incredible.”
Clara laughed, “Well you always said prepare for the unexpected.” Clara laughed, “And sudden death by Bobcat—that was most certainly unexpected!”
Mason grinned, “You got that right.”
6
Playing the Hand You have been Dealt
A FEW DAYS LATER, AT MASON’S HOUSE, BALTIMORE MARYLAND.
Mason was happy to have Clara around with him during her last week before shipping off to the CIA training grounds in Langley, Virginia. They had been busy in their final preparations, and now they had just one day to spare. As such Mason wanted Clara to spend it not stressing out about training but simply relaxing at their home the best way that they knew how—throwing a poker party.
It might be surprising to some but Mason and Clara both loved to play poker, it was something that he taught her in his downtime and she had become quite a card shark. Mason now had practically the whole Onyx team assembled around the table, cards in hand for a serious match. Raina was the only team member abstaining as she watched Clara deal out the cards to the members of Onyx.
Raina watching her shuffle the cards remarked, “But this is just for fun right? I mean—you guys aren’t actually betting money, are you?” To which Mason seated nearby snorted, “Of course we’re betting money! It wouldn’t be real poker without it!”
Raina then hissed, “Mason, but Clara doesn’t have that kind of money.”
To which Mason laughed, “She has graduation money doesn’t she?”
Raina gasped, “Mason! That’s horrible! You would let her risk gambling away her graduation money?”
Clara picking up on the commotion, uncharacteristically snapped, “What are you guys fussing about over there? Are we going to play cards or not?”
Her father, amused at her sudden flash of impatient bravado, nodded, “Of course Clara! Of course! Deal!”
Clara then began passing out cards, first to an Eager Kyle “The IT Guy” Garrison who was seated next to her, then to an erstwhile Mathew Benton, She then shuffled on over to the hulking form of former Onyx member Chris Bradley on her right, followed by the stone faced former leader of the group Marshal Oliver.
Upon receiving his cards, Marshal looking down at his hand seemed to be pleased. He then looked to Mason seated next to him and whimsically remarked, “I don’t normally play poker but I must say your daughter really knows how to cut a deck.”
After hearing this, Mason looked over to Clara and smiled. Looking at her, he still saw the young kid who was always daddy’s little girl. But he had to realize that she was grown. She was now an independent, strong, willful, tough woman, who could hold her own with the best of them.
They had all trained her well; the Onyx team members had given her an edge and yet Clara was still apprehensive of what she might face the next morning when she went in for her first day of training with the CIA. But seated at the poker table, it wasn’t bothering her nerves enough to spoil her good hand.
As was evidenced when Kyle Garrison attempted to bluff his way through a round—it was Clara that called him out. An embittered Kyle was completely run out of the game shortly thereafter.
And after several rounds it came down to a final showdown between just Mason and Clara. Clara almost certain that she had her father beat, was holding a straight flush. But maintaining her poker face all the same she asked her father, “Alright pops, it seems you’ve used all your chips. How are you going to sweeten the pot?”
Mason then pulled a pair of car keys out of his pocket and put them in the center of the table, as he announced, “With these.”
Clara’s eyes widened in surprise as she asked, “What? You’ve got to be kidding! You’re going to gamble away your own car?”
To which Mason laughed, “No—I’m gambling away your car!”
As everyone around them watched the exchange with amusement, Clara inquired, “What? My car
?”
To which her father nodded, “Yes, that’s right.”
Mason motioning toward the keys in the pot, explained, “I was going to give them to you as a surprise graduation gift.”
With a twinkle in his eye Mason then remarked, “But then I thought—instead of just giving it away, why don’t I make you work for it a little instead?”
Clara raised an eyebrow, “So you are making me have to win my own graduation gift in a game of poker?”
Mason replied, “Yep.”
Clara laughed, “Ok—sounds good.”
Clara Walker then dealt out the final cards, before the two would have to show their final hand. Clara revealed hers first, placing her cards down on the table as she exclaimed, “Read it and weep a straight flush!”
Mason then did the same, displaying his terribly weak hand, easily beaten by Clara’s straight flush. Mason feigning indignation, then grumbled, “Alright kid—alright you beat me.”
Clara pulling the entire pot, chips, car keys and all toward her, exclaimed her triumph, “Yes!”
To which Mason chuckled, “It feels much better to win it than to just get it given to you doesn’t it?”
Before she could answer Mason declared, “Okay your chariot awaits my dear.”
Mason then stood up, and announced to the rest of those assembled, “Come on guys, let’s show the lady what she’s won.”
Mason then stepped over to the garage, and opening the inside garage door, went inside beckoning for the rest to follow. Clara went in first. Her eyes were greeted by a shiny new Jeep Grand Cherokee, prompting her to exclaim, “Oh! It’s so cute!”