Sweet Firecracker

by Nikki Bolvair

  “Do you know what happened to my family?”

  Emma went stock still before she glanced away and continue to knead her bread. “Yes, but why don’t you tell me?”

  “They died.” She nodded, just listening. “And then, he took me away.”

  “Mr. Hanson? Your guardian?”

  “Yes, but then he died, too.”

  She stopped kneading the dough and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry, Melissa.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and tilted my head up to her ear.

  “They’re not going to stop,” I whispered. She pulled away. “It’s not random. I know secrets.”

  She pulled all the way back, her doughy hands now resting on my shoulders, her eyes concerned. “What do you mean, Melissa?”

  “My father was a spy. I know secrets.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she nodded soberly, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. “And, why tell me this?”

  “Because,” I whispered. “It’s not random.”

  “What,” she asked slowly, “do you mean?”

  “Uспорченный. Je suis la fille d’un espion. Watashi o shinjite kudasai.”

  Emma’s face was shocked. “You can speak other languages?”

  “Eight,” I replied as her hands dropped from my shoulders.

  “Eight?” I heard a voice from behind me. I turned to see all of them standing there. Weston, Aaron, Seth, Dallon, and Garrett.

  “You speak eight languages?” Garrett pressed as he stepped closer. “Dallon and I only speak three. Quién eres,” he asked in Spanish.

  “Contaminado,” I answered.

  “No, you’re not. You’re dulce petard.”

  I smiled sadly.

  “Tainted?” Dallon interrupted. “Why do you think you’re tainted?”

  “Boys!” Emma reprimanded, not understanding.

  I looked to Dallon who was six years older than me and gave him an honest answer. “No soy pero todos ustedes son.”

  He took a step back. “What? Why?”

  I looked at him sad. “Because I came here.”

  Three days later, people came during the night, and by morning, I was gone.

  Betrayed

  15 years later

  Melissa

  “How do I get myself into these messes?” I mumbled as I clambered up the chimney shoot. It would have been entertaining if what awaited me down below wasn’t my death.

  “Rules, rules. I have to remember the rules.”

  As I shimmied my way up the chimney, my arm ached slightly from the different shots Trisha and I received a few days ago. The images of what just happened filtered through my mind, and my heart galloped with adrenaline. How in the hell could one of our own go rogue? And our supervisor of all people.

  I scurried along the rooftop, carrying a small bag with a change of clothes.

  When I got to the north side of the house, it was too much to process. Our supervisor Myter, killed one of our own. What happened next was even more horrific.

  Clenching my teeth against the bile that threatened to emerge, I pushed it back and crouched. A weird sensation came over me, something I had never felt. A brief rush of tingles coursed throughout my body.

  Movement in the shadows caught my attention, and my heart thumped. Who was that? Did Nero change the rotation schedule of his goons? Whoever it was, they were scouting. I crept to the edge and silently jumped down to the second roofline. My bag swung a little too much for my nerves, and I paused to see if the scout noticed. He shifted, looking ahead, opposite to where I hid.

  I heard the squeak of my handler’s breaks. Shit Trisha! I silently screamed at her for giving away her position. I had to go, now!

  Dashing to the edge, I silently advanced to the next lower roofline, then to the far corner where I leaped to the pool house roof and from there, to the ground. I made it to the wall and used the slight indentations where brick and mortar met to scale over. The strange, tingling sensation became stronger, but I ignored it.

  Leaves crunched in the darkness, and I snapped my ass into gear. Someone was coming after me.

  I darted toward the trees as the echoes of boots on the ground filled the silent woods. When I spotted Trisha’s car, I threw a glance back and ran faster. A bunch of dark shadows raced toward me, and I was sure they weren’t the friendly kind.

  I ran to the car and leaped inside.

  “Go, go, go!” I ordered as I flung the door shut, looking back to watch the shadows turn into men in fatigues.

  Trisha floored it, whipped us around and sped away, leaving behind a spray of rocks in our wake.

  When we cleared the woods and were back on the road, we had merely moments until they were on us, whoever they were.

  “We need a new car,” Trisha told me. “Like yesterday. They’ve seen this one.”

  “Take the highway to the next exit.” I kept an eye on the side mirror as I stripped out of my blue dress and dragged out new clothes from the small duffle bag I had been carrying.

  “Are you alright? Did you get hit?” Trisha worriedly asked.

  I brushed off her concerns as I considered my back up plan. I had loads of those. Even ones the agency didn’t know about. I leaned back and slipped on my jeans. “Yes, I’m alright. No, I didn’t get hit.”

  “Great! Now, what the hell is going on, Melissa? Who’s gone rogue, and who were those men chasing you?”

  I glanced at my partner. I wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything, I was shit scared. While I was grateful for my escape, I worried about Frank Macintosh, who Myter had taken, and was frightened about what I saw go down. I tried to block that image from my mind.

  Death.

  So much happened in our time working together, but nothing like this. We had been young when we were recruited.

  I showed up on the FBI’s turf fresh out of high school, looking innocent and naïve at eighteen. I wasn’t. I signed up as a recruit and went into basic training alongside my soon to be co-worker and partner Trisha Macintosh.

  The two of us proved them wrong by going the distance and outsmarting almost everyone there. At the time, I wasn’t sure what kind of background Trisha had, but she knew her stuff.

  When we completed the training requirements, the bureau thought it would be best to partner us together. Trisha as a handler, since that was her area of expertise, and me as a field agent. This was our fifteenth mission together and death and treason was in our mists.

  I pulled my shirt on and laced up my boots, then blew out a breath. “Myter was at the compound. He’s gone rogue, and I have no clue who those men were. Nero’s hired a hit on us. Myter can no longer be trusted.”

  “Shit! What was he even doing there? Are you sure it was him?” For him to go rogue meant we were all in danger.

  Shock filled her eyes, and I understood it. In fact, I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t been there to see the traitorous act with my own eyes. “Bullet in the head, kind of sure.”

  “Proof? You have proof right?”

  “Trisha, he shot an agetn right in front of me. I’m a witness. Yes. I’m sure. Those men I was running from, though, shouldn’t have been there. They weren’t part of the organization.” I point to an upcoming cross street. “Take this turn off, and then take a left. There’s a storage unit coming up. Turn in. I have a car here, and we can hide this one.”

  As we switched cars, the scenes from the last two days kept looping in my mind.

  My fifteenth mission with the FBI was an undercover job as an airheaded blonde (with a little help from a wig) with striking blue eyes and an impressive chest. The bureau sent me in as a pawn. Something the mob boss, Nero Kovach, would definitely pay attention to, but also overlook. No way could a woman who had a body like that and used it the way a man wants would ever be intelligent enough to gain access to his new assets and deliver them to safety.

  Nor would he believe that two of the millions of men he currently trusted were in on it as well. Nero had
been dealing drugs, which is no business of the FBI’s, but when he started dealing with new products, the selling of women and children as sex slaves, we stepped in.

  Tonight, we were supposed to go down to the basement where they held the prisoners for the auction, but that fucking place was big. The basement covered the whole compound. Not just the mansion.

  Operative Macintosh, along with Agent Craig and I, had discovered the missing women. We gave them to our boss Myter and another agent Mike, who put them in a getaway van. Typically, bosses weren’t involved in on-scene cases. For some reason, Myter came on this case, even though he was supposed to be on family medical leave, taking care of his daughter who had a life-threatening medical condition.

  I didn’t understand why we didn’t just storm the place. We had enough evidence.

  As the three of us made our way back to the places we were supposed to be in, I knew something was awry. The women we freed weren’t the only ones imprisoned down in the basement.

  Nero quickly found out about his lost merchandise and ordered us all into his parlor, the place where he did his killings. My nerves were shaken, but I hadn’t come without backup. I had a gun on the inside of my thigh, under the sweeping red dress Nero laid out for me that morning.

  Nero was pissed, but in his tirade, he slipped and gave up information.

  “I want to know who sold me out,” he raged as he pointed to all the guys he lined up, me included, along with another one of our inside agent and some of those newer goons.

  Frank Macintosh was third by Nero’s side. He’d gained his trust six months ago when he shot an officer to protect him. Nero had no idea the entire situation was staged. Now standing there, Macintosh pointed a gun at one of the thugs.

  Hands held up, the poor guy pleaded. “It was Terrence, sir. We captured him on tape trying to fuck one of the girls. One got loose and let the others out.”

  “You knew and didn’t alert the others?” Nero’s voice was deathly quiet.

  “There wasn’t enough time—” the goon protested, but Nero flicked his wrist, drawing out his own automatic, and shot him in the head.

  I stood there as I was supposed to—a sobbing mess—even though inside I was livid. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone killed, and I was sure that it wouldn’t be my last. Nevertheless, just watching something like that, it’s rough to come back from.

  Nero, like a good guy who wanted to get in my pants, comforted me. But as he moved me out his parlor door, he muttered to his first, his words stunning me. “At least he didn’t get the pure merchandise.” It was then I realized he had more of them.

  Nero ordered extra security down in the East Wing, and that night, I let him put his filthy hands on me even though I was disgusted by him and what he did.

  When he passed out, I called Trisha and informed her I needed out, but I couldn’t allow those helpless children to be auctioned off tomorrow night.

  Macintosh, the other agent, and I prepared a plan. Tomorrow morning, when Nero left me in his bed, I was going to get everything off of Nero’s computer as the other two freed the ‘pure merchandise’.

  When the next morning arrived, Nero left, and I moved into his master bedroom and crawled through the vents that led to his office. It was a narrow fit, but I managed. It was there that I hacked his computer for the damning evidence and again went back into the vent. What I didn’t anticipate was Nero entering his office with a briefcase. His first goon, named Ed, Agent Craig—who was supposed to be with Macintosh—and Myter followed behind him.

  My pulse picked up as I peered through the lines in the vent, watching with concern as to why they were there.

  Nero first laid the briefcase on his desk and said four words to Myter that had my blood going cold. “Are you still loyal?”

  What the fuck was this?

  “Yes,” Myter voiced calmly.

  Then, Nero pointed a fat finger at Agent Craig. “Shoot him.”

  My heart paused as the agent sputtered, and without hesitating, Myter drew his gun and shot him point-blank in the head. I gritted my teeth to prevent the gasp that would have escaped. There was no coming back from that.

  ***

  It was three towns over when we stopped for coffee at a truck stop restaurant to try to sort this out.

  “Melissa, do you have any idea who those men were chasing you?” Trisha asked as she took a sip of her coffee. I’m sure trying to take the edge off.

  I shook my head as my red curls swayed with the movement. I was in the dark just like she was about who those men were.” I have no idea, Trish. But…” I felt conflicted and took a sip of coffee.

  “But?” Trisha prompted.

  “But they were just there, and I felt something.”

  Trisha nodded knowingly. “The tingling. The spark or current? All over.”

  My eyes widened. She felt it, too? I set my mug down on the table top and couldn’t hold in my surprise.

  “Yes!” I leaned in closer. “But how? Why?”

  I wanted answers. The rules for me had taken a back seat. I was running in the dark on this one.

  “I don’t know,” she muttered then she told me about a guy named Triton she met in the coffee shop earlier that day and her experience.

  She seemed to be as baffled as I was. That didn’t bode well for me. Per rule number three: Always know your enemies and keep them close.

  “That’s crazy,” I whispered, my eyes widening. “So you think that guy, Triton, was in that group chasing me?”

  Trisha shifted in her seat. “It only makes sense right? The tingles with him at the coffee shop and then at your pick up point. It’s the only explanation. Triton was there in that group chasing us, but what side is he on? And what do we do about Myter?” she asked worriedly. “We can’t go back to the agency.”

  She pulled out out her laptop, but I stopped her with a hand on her arm. I leaned in and whispered, “You know what we need to do, Trish.”

  Trisha stared at her laptop, disgruntled. “Aw, no. I could take out the tracker.”

  I fought the urge to smile. She loved her laptop. I shook my head knowing we needed to do this. “You know better. We’ll call in to…”

  “Who, Melissa?” Trisha snorted. “Our boss, Edmund Myter, the traitor?”

  Pain and panic ebbed in my chest. I needed her to keep it together. We had to figure out the best way to notify the agency that our boss was dirty. “Keep it together, Trish! Think. Who can we call?”

  “Well, we could call Director Lindsey. There’s no one I really trust but her.”

  I sat back and breathed out. Of course. Director Lindsey Phillips would listen. She’s someone I trusted. I turned my head to look out the window. I was worried. We both were. If Myter somehow switched this all on us, we’d be toast. The two of us had to find a safe place.

  “We can’t go back,” Trisha whispered. I knew she was right. You can never go back.

  I turned back to her with renewed determination. “We can’t go home, but there is one place we can go. We need to dump everything.”

  “How about the women and children? Were you able to get them out?”

  “Yes…” I glanced down to the table tracing the small crack in it’s surface. I failed those women if Myter gave them back. And the what I saw… “I don’t know. Myter and the other agents got them while I went to get the evidence. Left the room to get ready for my extraction but paused when Nero came back into his office. Myter was with him. I wondered why he and the others were with him. Then, Myter shot him.” My voice had become the barest whisper as images flashed. “I didn’t think. Didn’t move. Couldn’t believe it. He shot one of our own.”

  “Melissa, who was it?”

  I shook my head trying to rid those memories, “It was—”

  I froze and cocked my head to the side. The tingles started, again.

  I glanced over to Trisha, and she met my gaze. That’s when we both realized that we only had a few minutes before they were here.
It was time to run.

  Whoever Triton was, whoever those people in black were, they were involved in this, and they had just found us.

  I leaned in. “Do you feel—”

  “Move. It’s time to run.”

  Trisha grabbed my arm and went to stand when some of the hottest men came through the door of the truck stop. I stood there shocked. I knew one of them. It was someone I had left behind. Trisha pulled me towards the back of the diner, and the man in question locked eyes with me. He was older, but I knew it was him.

  Shocked, I whispered to Trisha, “I know him.”

  That’s when all hell broke loose.

  Boots rushed towards us as the guys noticed our retreat, and I tried to keep focused. They never yelled as they pursued, just pushed chairs and people aside as they tore after us.

  “Oh, crap!” I exclaimed. “Hurry!” No one knew about my past, and I liked it that way. I wasn’t anyone special. My parents were welcome to all of that glory themselves.

  We made it out of the other side door exit of that small truckstop diner, but the guys weren’t far behind. We needed a plan, and rushing towards the front to get the only car we had was not the best game plan at the moment. They probably left someone to watch the front in case we came back.

  Trisha and I ran towards the tree line of the woods, and she growled. “Shit. Plan anyone?”

  “Sure, of course,” I drawled as we ran. “Ask me for a plan, now. Great timing, Trish. Just a shit fantastic time to be asking me for a game plan. And I can’t let them see me. They can’t know who I am, Trish. They can’t.”

  Trisha followed me as we came up to a neighborhood. “Who? The guys?”

  We jumped up on the brick fence line and walked it. “Yeah.” We wanted the houses to shield us from the streets as we made our way down the road. We never slowed down and kept quiet. My mind went a mile a minute.

  To our right, I pointed out a house that was for sale. “There. We’ll regroup there. Let’s hurry.”

  Since I couldn’t feel the tingles I felt around those guys, I relaxed but was still very much on edge.

  Trisha pulled out a phone as she followed me. “I’m going to call a cab to the house next door. Hopefully, they didn’t see us run into the tree line, and we’ll have some time.”