The Innocent Assassins

by Pema Donyo

  I trudged back to the beach house, mulling over what happened. Was he lying to me when he said he needed me? I thought I was using him; was it the other way around?

  I groaned. No more questions; I needed answers. Time for the hack.

  Adrian's laptop lay on the desk next to our bed, right where he'd left it last night. The screen whirred to life as I swiped the mouse. The password bar blinked at me, waiting for a response before granting further access.

  I flexed my interlaced hands outward. This wouldn't be the normal hacking into a CO computer. All CO agents were taught the same hacking tricks, and there was no doubt in my mind Adrian had anticipated those methods and planned accordingly. Time to get creative.

  I restarted the computer and kept pressing the F8 key until the screen presented a list of options to boot the computer with. I scrolled past "Safe Mode" and "Safe Mode with Networking" and instead typed in a specialized code I'd developed on my own. A new option appeared on the screen: "PRIVATE MODE.” I clicked it. Once I spotted the familiar “Start” screen and made it past the password, I clicked on the "Start" menu and selected "Control Panel."

  I typed in another code I'd developed back at prep school. So computer hacking was a hobby of mine, big deal. Adrian had always been good at it too, but I hadn't taught him this particular hack. An option appeared saying "ALL ACCESS MODE" and I clicked it. There was another whir from the computer as the command was processed, and then the whirring stopped.

  All passwords down, all history of my time on the laptop would be erased, nothing would be modified... I was in.

  Under "All Access Mode,” endless files which hadn't appeared before popped up on the desktop. I cringed when I saw the desktop photo. It was a picture of Adrian and me at Disneyland, the day when Lucy brought her super high-powered camera and we had endless photo shoots around the park. In the picture, Adrian lifted me up and spun me around, and my head was thrown back in a laugh. Cinderella's castle at night formed our backdrop, with fireworks going off behind the castle. After I first saw the picture, I had told him it was my favorite photo of us.

  Surely a guy who used his girlfriend's favorite photo as his desktop background wouldn't use her to fulfill some sinister plot. But I still needed to find something to tell Tristan and the CIA.

  There was a folder labeled "PRE-TRAINING." I clicked on it, and more folders appeared. One of them said "PHOTOS." In the folder, there were all photos of adults, some young and some middle-aged. All different ethnicities, ages, and genders. There was no common pattern or defining characteristic which linked all the profiles. I clicked through the photos, wondering if it was even worthy of note to tell the CIA. What was the link between these people? They all seemed like random faces to me. Maybe Adrian just kept the photos as potential disguises for agents.

  Wait.

  I stopped clicking forward, then clicked a photo back. On the screen was the photo Marge had shown me of Lauren Lu, the woman she said was my mother. It had to be her - the face was the same, the hair was the same. The only thing missing was the label of who she was. I swallowed hard. There was no way she could be a random face to him. Why did Adrian have a photo of my mother? Did he know I was even related to her?

  I clicked back to the main folder of "PRE-TRAINING," searching for more answers. There was a folder aptly called "EVIDENCE." I selected it and watched the new photos appear on the screen.

  Scans of newspaper clippings filled the folder. But these weren’t just any newspaper clippings. All the excerpts belonged to obituaries. The dates of death varied. Most of the names were random, until I saw one named "Helen King." Was it Adrian's mom? King wasn't a rare last name, it could have been someone with no relation to him.

  There was no father listed in the obituary. It was as if Helen was just a person who'd appeared and disappeared into the world, leaving behind a son and no next of kin. I licked my lips, almost afraid of the certainty I was approaching.

  This had to be Adrian's mother. I wasn’t questioning why he had her obituary; I would have searched for my parents too if I hadn't been convinced they were already dead when I entered the foster care system.

  It seemed Adrian had been less certain than I was.

  I clicked through more articles. The foreign names passed by me with all tragic avenues of death. The methods ranged from suicides to bombings to street fights. Whitaker, Hally, Morehouse, Lu...

  Lu.

  My eyes fixed on the screen. Staring in front of me were the obituaries for my parents. I held my breath as I read the details. The names were the same as Marge had told me. So the CIA told me the truth. All the puzzle pieces fit together, creating a nightmare instead of a masterpiece. There was nothing to dispute anymore. CO had ordered the death of my parents.

  My heart sank. Then why didn’t Adrian tell me? Why did he keep obituaries in the first place? Emma's words floated back to the front of my mind..."He's hiding things from you."

  There was a slight creak in the floorboards behind me. My eyes remained glued to the screen, still studying the obituary of my parents even as my hearing registered the footsteps approaching. A soft thump accompanied the creaking, the thump of an arm being laid against the doorframe.

  Panic seized my heart and clutched at my sense of pure fear, raking it upward with bony fingernails. The air filled with the scent of a musky and fresh cologne, and the voice of the person standing in the doorway sounded almost hollow.

  "What do you think you're doing, Janey?"

  "I wanted to look up information about an upcoming concert. You know I forgot to bring my laptop, and my cell phone service for wireless internet is terrible here. I saw you talking to Tristan, so I decided to hack it myself." I shrugged. My hand gripped the light blue wooden chair I sat in, as if the harder I gripped the more Adrian would believe me. "But then I saw your folder and I got curious." I pointed to the screen. "Adrian, you need to explain this to me.”

  Adrian pushed himself off the doorway. He stepped with a slow gait across the wooden floorboards, not to walk toward a certain direction but from a habit of pacing. "I don't have to explain anything." He raised his voice. "You can't hack through my computer. My hard drive has confidential information."

  “Confidentiality I’ve cracked.” Adrian wasn't angry yet, and I couldn't help but press further. If I'd at least gotten this far, I could risk his wrath some more. "These are my parents. I need to know why they're on your computer. Who are the rest of these people? Why are you keeping a record of them?" My curious tone evolved into hysteria. "I need answers, not more secrets from you!"

  "It's all for my training as CEO. I'm sent on special missions without a partner. They’re assigned to me by the CEO. Believe me.”

  Believe him? I didn’t know what to believe.

  My voice trembled. "Don't you dare lie! I know you've been keeping secrets from me.”

  "I've never lied to you. Stop being so difficult, Jane." Adrian stopped pacing. The corners of his mouth crinkled with consternation. "I'm trying to protect you."

  "Protect me?" I wanted to laugh. I stood up from my chair and gestured to the laptop. "This is how you think you're protecting me? By keeping photos of my dead parents and obituaries of them and not telling me why you have them? You think you're protecting me if you keep deceiving me?"

  "You have no idea what I've been through!" Adrian pointed an accusing finger at me. "I tell you and then what? It's not going to help anyone."

  "I deserve to know! I already know you've been keeping secrets from me. Don't think because you don't tell me things, I don't suspect there's something to be told."

  "You know nothing," he snarled. "I'm keeping you safe, okay? Forget those pictures you saw."

  He tried to walk behind me and reached forward to shut the laptop. No way was I letting him off that easy. I stepped in front of him and placed my palms on his chest.

  "I thought my parents were dead before I entered foster care. But they weren't and you knew? Why didn't you tell me? And you h
ave their pictures, too! What are you doing behind my back?"

  "I promise…”

  “I don’t need your promises. I need the truth.”

  “The truth won’t help you, Janey.”

  "And your mother is in the obituaries! Are these photos all dead parents of CO agents?"

  "Stop getting involved in what doesn't concern you,” he commanded. “There's nothing you can do about this. Just pretend you never saw those photos.”

  "I'm sick of pretending all the time. If you don't tell me right now, Adrian King..."

  "Then what?" He sneered at me, his fists clenched. I laughed when I saw his fists and pointed to them.

  "Then I guess you're going to hit me?" I turned my cheek to him, the skin exposed. "Go ahead. Try it. Hit me, then! At least I can see it happening in front of me and I know what's going on. I don't have to worry about the secrets you keep anymore."

  His face crumpled. His fingers unclenched, and vulnerability entered his eyes. "Jane." The softness of his tone reminded me of silk, smoothing over a surface to try to make things better. "I swear I'm trying to keep you safe."

  The anger in the air evaporated as I flopped down onto the bed. I stared straight ahead, avoiding Adrian’s eyes. "Deception doesn’t make my life less dangerous. Deception keeps me in the dark."

  "If I could tell you, I swear I would."

  "But you can't, because doing so would somehow compromise me?" I laughed, the sound more mocking than intended. "I thought my life was already complicated, and the more time I spend with you and love you, the more complicated my life seems to become.” A sudden urge came over me to lie in the bed with Adrian and forget about all the secrets we kept from each other. The image flashed in my mind with bitterness. It was too impossibly ordinary to ever be reality for us. "I want to be one of those normal couples."

  "The boring ones." But Adrian's voice wasn't condescending; it was echoing the memory of our night on the dock.

  "Yeah, the boring ones. The couples who get married and have mundane jobs and kids and you know, don't kill people or keep secrets from each other. You say it's boring.” My throat tightened. "To me, it sounds great. It sounds peaceful."

  "I'm going to give you the life you want."

  I suppressed the urge to cover myself in the blanket, hiding away from the vagueness of Adrian's words. My fists clenched the bedspread. "How? You're still refusing to tell me what's going on. How can I trust you, if you don't trust me with the truth?"

  "Because it would hurt you."

  "The truth? Or you?"

  Adrian sat next to me. His hand covered mine and, as frustrated as I was, I let him take it. "I'm doing all this so you don't get hurt. I'm doing all this to give you the future you want."

  "What is all this? What are you doing that’s so dangerous?"

  He placed his hand beneath mine, and our palms pressed together. His touch felt feather light. "Marriage, jobs, kids. I'll give you everything."

  "With CO?"

  He nodded. There was so much assurance in his eyes, even I believed him for a moment. "I'm working to make everything possible for you, for me, for any other CO agent who wants peace. You changed my mind. When you left..." Adrian swallowed, then tried to speak again. "When you left, I kept thinking about how I could provide you with what you wanted, anything to stop you from leaving CO." His hand squeezed mine. "Now I know how."

  Longing tugged at my heart. My body responded to his touch, the nerves in my fingers tingling under his attention. With even the slightest brush of skin, my senses went into overdrive. "Can't you tell me?"

  "Not now. I'll tell you when I can." He leaned my body back against the bed. The weight of his body covered mine, sending shockwaves of sensation through my legs and chest and arms.

  He kissed me, his hand cupping my cheek. My traitorous flesh leaned into the kiss, all too eager to respond to his ministrations. He groaned, his lower arm brushing against the soft skin of my breasts beneath my V-neck shirt. I arched my body against his as more heat flushed through me.

  He pulled away, his voice raw. "You have to trust me, Janey. I can't do this without you. Do you trust me?"

  I drifted my fingers through his hair, and he made a sound of appreciation. It was like we'd memorized each other's bodies and knew what the other person liked most. We knew just what to do, just what to say.

  "I do trust you, Adrian."

  I didn't. Not at all. But I couldn't deny my distrust any more than I could hide the happiness I felt in his arms.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Twelfth-Years of Covert Operatives cordially invites you to

  "Masquerade"

  Commencement 2013

  Saturday, August 31st, 2013

  6:00pm - 3:00am

  Griffith Observatory

  2800 E Observatory Ave

  Los Angeles, CA 90027

  Celebrate the twelfth-years' last year of active service to Covert Operatives in style! Graduation speeches and ceremonies will be completed by 9:00pm. Afterward, the dance floor, additional entertainment, and private tours of never-before-seen sections of the Griffith will be open. No section of the Griffith is off limits this night! Alcohol will be provided during the reception, and attendees will not be allowed to bring in their own drinks. From the active service operatives, only tenth-year agents, eleventh-year agents, and twelfth-year agents may attend. All executives are welcome. Reserve your ticket today! WARNING: Any agent found carrying a weapon to Commencement will be removed from the premises immediately.

  My reflection stared back at me, accusing me of the evils I didn't want to admit to myself. Traitor, the mirror whispered. Hypocrite. Liar. Deceiver. Darned dangerous double-crosser.

  "Jane, you look fat in the mirror!"

  I sighed. With the self-reflective moment ruined, I glanced over my shoulder to address Lucy. "Yeah, the mirror distorts my figure a lot." I glanced back to the glass. Okay, so the angles of the glass caused my body to look two feet tall and four feet wide.

  My reflection still looked the same. Still as double-crossing and deceiving as my real self.

  "Wow, look at these leaves! You can see the ants and the water droplets on them and everything." Lucy pointed at one of the paintings hanging on the brocade red wall. Her finger pointed so close to the painting, the security guard standing next to her had to push her back.

  As I walked over to where Lucy stood, I caught Emma's eye and we gave each other knowing looks. Nothing made Lucy more fanatical than paintings, and nothing bored Emma and me more than her classical art fascination. The modern art stuff was cool and thought-provoking, but pictures of leaves and old fat ladies? No thank you.

  I knew Emma felt the same way, and we exchanged glances saying, "Oh no, we're stuck here." Ever since Emma spoke to me at the beach house, there'd been an uneasy friendship between us again. For some reason, she didn’t ignore me any longer.

  While Lucy gasped for joy over the paintings, I inclined my head toward the outside balcony right outside the room. Emma nodded in understanding.

  "Hey Luce, Jane and I are going to be right outside."

  Lucy spun around. Her hands clasped in excitement and her eyes lit up when she saw us. "Okay! Actually, meet me at the café in like ten minutes. I want to check out more Botticelli paintings. Ah, I'm so glad I brought you guys to the Getty with me today. Friends again!"

  I had to admit, I accepted Lucy's invitation to the Getty mainly so I could talk to Emma alone. I couldn’t risk Adrian knowing; I needed some distance from him. He'd been everywhere lately, like I was some china doll who was going to break if I was dropped.

  Or like he was some liar who didn't want his girlfriend to discover the secrets he hid.

  Emma and I walked out of the balcony and down another flight of stairs leading into the main section of the Getty. The walls were a brilliant, pure white. We continued past the glass doors and toward the fountain. Even outside, everything was white. I continued past the strange-looking waterfall sculpture
and down the steps leading to the garden.

  Emma followed me. We both knew what we were going to discuss needed to have as much privacy as possible. I finally sat down on a bench in front of the maze in the back yard. The air smelled sticky sweet with flowers, and the only other sounds around us belonged to the snapping of cameras as tourists photographed themselves standing in front of the Getty maze.

  "I hacked his computer."

  Emma's eyes widened. "Why?"

  "I needed to figure out what you were talking about. I found an obituary of my parents, Emma." I glanced around us, checking we were still alone. "I need to know why he didn't tell me my parents were alive before I entered foster care. He knew I thought they were dead. Why didn't Adrian tell me?"

  Emma pressed her lips together. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her legs were tucked in next to the bench, in some good girl pose, nothing like the fiery and outspoken Emma I knew. The silence was unnerving.

  "Tell me why you thought Adrian was lying to me."

  "If he's not lying to you then he's still keeping information from you." Emma glanced down at her hands. "It happened while you were gone. I was getting ready to take your place for Adrian's mission, and he started talking to some man who approached us."

  "Who?"

  "It wasn't any executive I'd seen before, but it could have been one. You know how many there are." Emma swallowed. "The man said something about Adrian's… I don't know what it was exactly. A special project? There was some new assignment Adrian had to take care of." Emma's eyes opened wider in realization. "It’s the day after commencement. Adrian's next assignment is the day after commencement."

  "Does Lucy know anything about this or is it just you?"

  "No, Lucy couldn't be in on it. Lucy would never approve of what Adrian's doing."