Tempest

by Julie Cross

  We hopped into the shower together, later on, and she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing me so tight. Her face was buried in my chest, the water running over us, and I thought that she might be crying, the way she hid her face. But I was too afraid to ask. We stayed like that, holding each other, for a while. Then she finally whispered, “Thank you.”

  That was the first time I ever even thought about saying it … I love you. It would have been perfect, just melting into the moment. Not like some overplayed drama. But my tongue tied up just thinking it, not knowing if it was really true or not, so instead I said, “Did you know you have a freckle on your—”

  She put a hand over my mouth. “Yeah, I know.”

  Then we were laughing again, and it set the tone for the whole night. Holly sat on the kitchen counter, listening to my jokes, while I made scrambled eggs. She looked so gorgeous, wrapped up in my blue bathrobe, her hair wet and her cheeks still flushed.

  Looking back on it now, I could have stretched that moment out for weeks and been completely content. Maybe even months.

  Nothing went exactly right. And yet it was perfect.

  * * *

  I was so engrossed in my recollection of 009 Holly, I hadn’t even noticed that 007 Holly was breathing deep and drooling on my sweatshirt. I released her hand and put my arm around her, bringing her closer so her head wasn’t on the hard ground. She stirred for a minute, then lifted her head.

  “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

  I smiled when she wiped the slobber from her face with her sleeve. “Might as well get a nap in while you’re cutting class, right?”

  She sat all the way up and her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry. I’m one of those people who could sleep in the middle of traffic, honking horns and everything.”

  “Lots of homework last night, I guess?”

  “Yeah, and studying for the SATs. I’m going to take them in a few weeks.”

  I sat up across from her. “I did okay on mine. I’m still willing to help you.”

  “Define ‘okay.’”

  “1970.”

  Her eyebrows arched up. “That’s a really good score. I need a 1900 to get into NYU and I’d like to do better than that so I can get a scholarship, hopefully.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do great. In fact, I’m nearly positive.”

  “A little extra help couldn’t hurt,” she said with a smile.

  She started leaning forward like she might try to kiss me and I wanted to dive in with both feet, but something inside me tensed up. Something different than Adam’s warning. Was it possible to cheat on Holly with Holly? Was she too young to be kissing someone my age? Would it be the same as kissing my Holly?

  I chickened out of making a decision and stood up, holding my hand out for her. “Let’s go for a walk. Maybe that’ll wake you up a little.”

  She got up from the ground after tossing the blanket into her bag. “Where are we going?”

  I smiled when she didn’t release my hand. In fact, she gripped it even tighter as we strolled toward the sidewalk. “Have you ever been to Shakespeare’s Garden?”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s not far from here.”

  When we arrived, Holly walked up to the first plaque to read the writing and as I moved toward her, a short man with red hair brushed past me and said in a low voice, “Nice to see you again, Jackson.”

  I sucked in a breath, trying to focus despite the blood pounding in my ears as he slowly turned around to face me. It was him, looking exactly the same as he had two years from now when he charged into Holly’s dorm room. Then he was walking again. His pace picked up with longer and faster steps, and without even thinking about it, I took off after him.

  Instinctively, I reached for my pocketknife and clenched it in my fist. His fast walk turned into a light jog and I ran after him, not saying a word as he led me off the path, toward a different part of the park, thick with trees.

  My pulse raced, matching the beat of my steps. Without any indication he had been aware of my presence behind him, he froze, right in front of a tree, and lifted his hands in the air as if he were giving up. “I was hoping you would follow me.”

  I took a step closer. Maybe this was a trap and maybe he had a better weapon than an old pocketknife, but I was too furious to care. As he turned, I studied his face carefully and nearly had a heart attack when I saw the gash above his left eye, fresh blood still streaming from it. And the red mark. A shoe print. Holly’s shoe print.

  009 Holly’s shoe print.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it? “How did you … I don’t…”

  My voice faded as the man held my gaze with an expression far too calm compared with the roiling emotions I felt.

  “Jackson … what are you … doing?” Holly sputtered out from behind me, her breath coming out jagged, probably from running after me.

  I glanced quickly over my shoulder and then back at the man, trying to figure out a way to word my question. “How did you … get here? From there?”

  His eyebrows lifted and a slow grin spread across his face. “Interesting. Why don’t you tell me how you got here?”

  I wanted to punch the grin right off his face, but then Holly gasped behind me and I spun around to see a tall blond woman with one of her arms locked tightly around Holly’s throat.

  Nausea swept over me. God, this can’t be happening again. And where the hell had that woman even come from?

  “Rena, I thought you’d be here sooner,” the man said, like she was late for dinner or a dentist appointment.

  “Things were a little different than we expected,” she said.

  My eyes darted between the two of them and then rested on Holly’s face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the panic in her eyes, as she squirmed to get out of Rena’s grip, sent me over the edge. She tried to kick free. I had to do something.

  I snapped my pocketknife open at the same time the man behind me shouted, “Watch out, Rena!”

  But it wasn’t me he was worried about. In a blur, a man flew out of the bushes, landing hard on Rena’s back and putting her in the same choke hold she had used on Holly. Suddenly Rena’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell over sideways onto the ground, taking her victim and attacker down with her. Holly pulled herself free and stood. She let out a breath of relief and bent over, resting her hands on her knees.

  “Don’t even think about pulling one of your little tricks,” a female voice said from behind me and Holly.

  We both turned around and my jaw dropped open when I saw my father’s secretary, Miss Stewart, execute a perfect roundhouse kick. Her knee-high leather boot connected with the red-haired man’s face, sending him stumbling backward into the woods. Fashionable women’s shoes: 2. Redheaded man: 0.

  She took off running after him.

  I turned back the other way. Holly raced over to me and my arms immediately went around her. She looked just as stunned and confused as I felt. My dad was pulling himself off the ground and I quickly let my thoughts catch up and realized he was the man who had just saved Holly, moving so fast I never even saw his face.

  “What the hell—” I started to say to Dad, but he was mumbling something in another language into his sleeve.

  He rested a hand on Holly’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes were huge as she backed away from him. One hand still clutched her chest, the other reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle of pepper spray she always carried with her.

  Dad held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

  I didn’t know who to believe and I had the sudden urge to snatch the bottle from Holly and spray him with it, just in case.

  “Are you all right, Jackson?” he asked me.

  I stared down at the woman lying in a heap on the ground and then at Holly, who seemed to be putting two and two together and coming to the conclusion that I knew these people, and that I was involved. She lifted the
bottle of pepper spray and pointed it in my direction.

  “Easy, Holly. I only know as much as you do,” I said. She eased the pepper spray to her side.

  Miss Stewart returned, followed by a man close to my dad’s age.

  “The target got away,” the man said.

  “It’s not like he outran us. What the hell are we supposed to do if he just—”

  Dad put up a hand to quiet her, and then pressed his finger to his ear, holding perfectly still for about ten seconds. “Deal with our sleepy blond friend,” he said to the guy who had just shown up.

  The guy hoisted the blond woman over his shoulder and took off.

  “Don’t move, young lady,” Dad said firmly to Holly, who was backing farther away, toward an escape.

  Fresh tears ran down her face and she looked more scared than I’d ever seen her. Her fingers moved over the keypad of her cell phone.

  “Stewart, clear the area and we’ll meet at the designated location,” Dad said to his secretary. The second she was out of sight, he snatched the phone and the pepper spray from Holly’s hands. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions about what you just saw, but we can’t discuss them out in the open.”

  Dad placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, toward a path that led to the street.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him. I didn’t want him touching her.

  “Just making sure she gets home safe and sound.” He continued to walk her toward the sidewalk. “We’ve already made quite a scene here and I’d rather not have any more slipups.”

  She cooperated for a few seconds, then she stepped on his foot, hard, and jabbed him right in the groin with her elbow. Dad didn’t even wince from Holly’s pint-sized torture. He was now holding on tighter to her shoulders and steering her toward a car parked on the street.

  “Please, just let me go and I’ll … I won’t say anything … please,” she said quietly.

  “I promise, no one is going to hurt you,” Dad said, then he removed his wallet and flipped it open, revealing a badge with his picture on the top and the letters CIA down the side. “I’ll explain everything in just a minute.”

  We had reached the long black car and I debated grabbing Holly and making a run for it, but this was our car, with our driver, Cal, who had just taken me to the Met this morning.

  “Oh, God,” Holly muttered as Dad opened the door. “Please, just let me go.”

  “Everything will be much easier if you get in on your own,” Dad said. “Trust me.”

  “Why does she have to get in the car?” I asked desperately.

  He gave me a sharp look that basically said to keep quiet. So that’s what I did because I didn’t see any other option.

  Holly’s lip trembled a little, but she discreetly wiped the tears from her face and slid into the car. The back two seats faced each other and Dad sat right across from Holly. I moved in next to her and the sound of my heart pounding felt twice as loud inside the confined space. The car began moving.

  “Who … are you people?” Holly managed to say.

  Obviously she wasn’t convinced by the CIA thing and she seemed to think Dad and I were partners in crime rather than father and son.

  “This is my dad,” I said to Holly.

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  He hesitated for a second, his eyes on me. “And I do work for the CIA.”

  Holly shook her head and sank back into her seat with a sigh of defeat. “This is beyond creepy … you’re never letting me go, are you?… I’m going to die or be one of those disappearing girls you hear about on the news.”

  “Stop,” Dad said, pointing to the car window. “Look where we are.”

  I glanced out the window at the same time as Holly and saw that we were parked in front of the same museum we had left a couple hours ago, right behind a big yellow school bus.

  “See, just like I promised. We got you back safe and sound.”

  “But … what about those people … and—”

  “The people we were chasing are terrorists.”

  “Terrorists?!” Holly asked.

  “Look, I think it would be best if we had a chat with your family, just to let them know about the situation today,” Dad said in this smooth voice that would probably even calm someone in the middle of a war zone.

  Holly shook her head vigorously. “I wouldn’t exactly recommend that … my mom is a total nutcase about stuff like this … she’ll completely freak. I’ll never be allowed out of the house again.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  I had a feeling that’s exactly what Dad wanted. He seemed to know how Holly would react. What else did he know about her?

  “Yeah, that would be best.” She looked longingly out the window. “Can I go now?”

  Dad nodded and put a hand on the door handle, preparing to open it. “Holly, agents almost never reveal their identity. When we do, it’s documented, and if anything leaks, we know exactly where it came from, trust me.”

  “I get it,” she whispered, but her breath caught in her throat.

  “Good.”

  I hated the way she was looking at me. Like she didn’t know me all over again. “I’ll walk in with you, Hol.”

  “No, really, I just … want to go on my own.”

  “I guess I’ll see you at work later?”

  “Yeah … work,” she said right before jumping out and slamming the door shut.

  I sat there and watched her walking away until the car started moving again, and then I turned to Dad. “If anything happens to her—”

  “Nothing will happen. You have my word,” he said. “But I have to ask you … how old are you right now, Jackson?”

  He knew. Because of my hints? The tests.

  My heart pounded harder than ever. But I kept my focus, knowing whatever information I gave him could be used against me.

  “Did you know my real parents?” I asked him, hoping the quick change of subjects might catch him off guard.

  He shook his head. “Not exactly … no.”

  “Who did Courtney and I live with for the first eleven months…? Dr. Melvin told me that part.”

  He turned his eyes to the window, but his face remained completely unreadable. “Just someone who wasn’t able to continue caring for two children. That’s all I know.”

  Okay, obviously he wasn’t going to tell me those details. “Why am I like this?”

  He turned away from the window and back to me, his face very businesslike. “I can’t answer that without asking a few questions of my own. Your abilities, I’m guessing you can use them freely?”

  I wanted to lash out at him so badly. He’d been lying through his teeth the other day with Melvin. How was I supposed to believe a word he said? I sank back in the seat as an idea formed in my head.

  “Dad, I’m not going to fork over all the secrets you want to know without getting something in return.”

  “Like what? You have everything.”

  “First of all, no more talk about high school, and I’m not quitting my job.”

  He shook his head and stared at me for a minute before speaking. “Is the job part for Holly? Because that just seems extreme for someone your age.”

  “And what age would that be?” I sighed, knowing I’d have to reveal a little. “Something happens to Holly two years from now. She’s my girlfriend in the future. Now I’m stuck here and there’s no way I’ll let that happen again. But I don’t know how to prevent it as well as you probably do. I want to learn whatever you secret-agent dudes know. That’s my second request. You have to teach me some spy stuff.”

  “What happened, Jackson? You can tell me,” he said.

  Part of me still saw my dad and not someone I had to keep hiding stuff from. And I really wanted to ask how that redheaded man had been in the future, two years from now, but also here, in 2007, with the same cut on his face. The shoe print. Like it had just happened.

  “Not now.”

  He let
out a breath, but nodded. “Okay. I’ve got plenty of ideas for beginners, also some manuals you can look over. I’m actually training a group of agents right now.”

  I laughed a little despite the tension still in the air. “You mean your secretary?”

  Dad cracked a smile. “Yes, she’s one of them.”

  “How old is she?” I asked. I’d been dying to know ever since she told me to call her Miss Stewart.

  “Nineteen.”

  “The CIA recruits teenagers?” I asked.

  “In certain unusual cases, yes,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Jenni Stewart is fairly new. If you do run into her again, you can’t tell her your real age or how you got here.”

  I laughed a little because I knew she didn’t want me to know her first name. “I’m not telling anyone. I’m not an idiot.”

  “So you haven’t told Holly?” he asked.

  “What do you think?” I rolled my eyes. “She thinks I’m a high school dropout from Jersey.”

  The first sign of worry crossed Dad’s face. “She doesn’t think that anymore. I already told Agent Stewart to check on her and … invite her to a company party at our place.”

  I rubbed my hands over my eyes and groaned. “Great. Now she’s freaked out and she’s going to hate me for lying … Seriously? A company party? That should be interesting.”

  “I’m sorry, I thought it might smooth things over,” he said with a sigh. “If she saw we were just normal people.”

  “Even without the CIA, she’d never think we were normal.” I changed the subject so I wouldn’t end up yelling at him. “What about your CEO office that I’ve seen a thousand times?”

  “It’s a government-run company made to look like a normal corporation. My involvement in the day-to-day operations is limited.”

  Just hearing him saying this so casually was infuriating. “Okay, so, first I find out you’re not really my father, and now you’re in the CIA and everything I knew about your work life is fake. A complete lie. What do I actually know about you?”