by Pema Donyo
"And you do? Emma, you have to tell me what’s going on.”
"Adrian is the one who knows the most about it. All I know is what I heard the man tell him. It was something about terminating relatives and starting families." Emma gulped.
I tried to keep my voice calm. “Tell me what you know. I won't tell him you told me."
"But he'll know!" Her forehead creased with panic. "He realized I overheard him and the man talking. He suspects I know." She swallowed. "I think that's why he's stopped talking to me."
"Terminating our relatives?" I groped with desperation for more information, trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces Emma presented to me. "Are you saying Adrian is killing off our relatives? It doesn’t make any sense, Emma. I saw his mother's obituary in there." And surely Adrian wouldn't kill my parents, right? But I didn't voice those concerns, afraid Emma would confirm them. "And what man was Adrian talking to? Is he the CEO?"
"I don't know!" Emma snapped. I drew back from her, startled. Emma's eyes burned into mine, as if she were trying to communicate information she was too afraid to say aloud. "I have no idea what the CEO looks like. Adrian is doing something involving our relatives, but he's planning more. He and the guy were talking about changing the future of CO. But it's not a future you'd want."
My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "But there's nothing to change. Marty told me CO takes in orphans.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Then why was your parents' obituary on Adrian's computer, with the date of death after you entered foster care? Why do you think Adrian never told you? I hate all the secrets. No one knows what actually happens.”
Hope rose within my chest. “Emma, do you ever wonder about... I don't know, quitting CO? All the secrets, all the lies. What if we gave it up?"
"If we don't get the executive position, we don't have a choice." Emma pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket. I thought she quit the habit months ago, but apparently not.
"I mean even if we did get executive, we could still leave. We could leave behind all this danger we're worried about.”
Emma lit her cigarette and closed her eyes. Smoke left her lungs, exhaled into the air like a prayer. "I'm not leaving CO."
My jaw dropped. "But I thought you were scared; I thought you were worried about what Adrian was doing and how he was deceiving everyone.”
Emma took another long drag from her cigarette. The hard lines of worry along her face relaxed. "I'm not scared. I am worried about what Adrian's doing. But CO is all I know. CO is our lives. Why would I leave willingly? They give us money, food, clothes, shelter, jobs. I'm lucky I'm a part of CO. Don't you get it? It's all we know."
"But if it wasn't all you knew..." Thoughts of the CIA drifted through my head. "What if there was another organization waiting for you to join when you left?”
Emma scowled. "What’s wrong with you? You applied for executive. Are you saying you've changed your mind and you're going to leave?"
"No, I'm not leaving." I regretted my choice of words. Emma gave me a wary eye, regarding my words with skepticism. Darn. I'd thought all of her worry about the secrets of CO would've meant she wanted to leave. But no, she wanted to keep her power while putting up with all the danger.
I gritted my teeth. Why couldn't she understand there was another way? I stood up. I checked the buttons of my chambray shirt, as if buttoning to the top lent some semblance of rare order to my life. "Let's meet Lucy."
The smoke from her cigarette followed me all the way to the cafe doors. I heard her flick the cigarette to the ground and stamp on it with her kitten heel.
Lucy waited for us outside, but tears streamed down her face. Emma ran up to her. She patted her back and made soothing sounds. "Hey, what's wrong?"
She held up her phone. I took it and read the e-mail on her screen out loud.
"Dear Ms. Hernandez, thank you so much for your interest in Covert Operatives. I regret to inform you we will not be able to accept your application as executive. I wish I were writing to report a different decision, but the competition was so rigorous this year that there were many outstanding young men and women to whom we could not offer places. Sincerely, Jack Waterman, Chief Executive Officer of Covert Operatives."
I stared back at Lucy, who seemed to be sobbing harder after I finished reading.
"I didn't make it," she rasped out. "I didn't make it!"
"The e-mails are out?" Emma patted Lucy's back with one hand and fished out her iPhone with the other. I watched her expression. Her eyebrows furrowed while she typed her password and checked her e-mail. Within seconds, a self-satisfied look plastered on her face.
Lucy watched too, and she sobbed harder when she saw Emma's expression. "I'm not good enough!" she wailed.
I gathered Lucy in my arms and brought her away from the café. We headed toward the exit of the Getty. "It's time to go home, Luce."
"It’s not my home anymore." Lucy threw herself against the wall of the outside veranda, the view of the Los Angeles hills behind her. "CO is my life! It's all I know."
Her words echoed Emma's so exactly, chills ran up my spine. The organization was all-consuming.
I grabbed Lucy again, afraid she would throw herself off the balcony if someone didn't hold her down. "It's going to be all right, Lucy. It's going to be all right."
I didn't check my phone until I'd already put Lucy to bed and made sure she was sleeping peacefully. I'd managed to calm her down somewhat, at least for the time being. Emma ran off somewhere after we'd arrived back at the headquarters, abandoning Lucy for who-knows-what.
I needed to clear my head, and there was no better way for me to do so than swimming. After gathering a towel, I headed toward the indoor pool past CO training rooms. I didn’t check my e-mail until I’d already pushed past the metal doors to the pool.
Congratulations, Covert Operatives is delighted to inform you...
I snapped my phone shut and set it down on my towel covering a plastic chair. Without a second thought, I dived into the water.
The coldness of the water shook me, telling me to move, move, move. I swam laps around the pool, all the while emptying my mind and refusing to allow myself to think about CO. There was me, the water, my body, and the motion of the wake around me. I focused on nothing else except moving faster and harder against the water.
I loved this feeling - the sensation of being in complete control. Even if everything else in my life turned to chaos, I could always count on feeling in command of my body.
But then the thoughts started floating in, unbidden and unwelcome.
You have been accepted as an Executive for Covert Operatives. Your training begins a week after your final mission as a member of the active service, September 8th. All executive training is personalized and you will have a private mentor guiding you through your first two months of transition.
I swam faster, pedaling my feet against the water.
I'm not leaving CO...
I'm doing all this to give you the future you wanted...
He's the man from Russia...
He's going to hurt you...
My arms suddenly gave out. I felt like I was drowning, the thoughts in my mind becoming too much for me to bear. Sudden panic gripped my body. I needed to get out the water, needed to breathe, needed to leave.
I pulled myself out of the pool and onto the tile floor. My chest heaved. I struggled to catch my breath, gasping for air as quick as I could.
A stomp of feet against tile slowed my gulps for oxygen. My breath hitched in my throat. Someone else was here.
"Hello?" I called out. Bluish-green light from the electric bulbs covered the pool, and shaking white light reflected off the pool and onto the walls. The stomping continued, but no shadows were to be seen.
"Who's there?" I stood up, my eyes darting around the room. "Adrian? Adrian, are you here?"
More footsteps. I ran after them, hearing the footsteps escape a yard or two in front. Heavy feet slammed against t
he carpet, running away from me. Someone who didn't want me to find them.
I had almost reached the main lobby before I’d noticed the other agents staring at the girl in the wet swimsuit who'd left sopping footprints behind her. The search was pointless by now. There were so many agents in the evening in the hallways. Any one of them could have been the person watching me.
I trudged back to the pool. All my belongings were still there, and no other wet footprints were on the tile except my own. Whoever watched me didn’t want to go swimming.
And didn’t want me to see them.
I shivered. Goosebumps formed on my flesh, encouraged by the cold air. I wrapped a baby-blue towel around me, all the while keeping an eye around the room as I left. No one was here now. But why had someone been watching me?
Who had been watching me?
I wrapped the towel tighter around my body, as if the towel's protection against the chill would give me protection against the world.
****
The light in the book store flickered on, even at midnight. I closed my eyes, praying the CIA had warned them in time. Neither Marge nor Tristan informed me how they were planning to sabotage the mission.
It was odd, suddenly experiencing fear before my missions. It wasn’t fear the CO had ever trained us for. Assassin organizations didn’t think about the fear of doing the wrong thing.
I swallowed hard as our van pulled up to the house. I flexed my right hand around the gun, prepared to sabotage the mission myself if necessary. No more innocents would be killed under my watch.
Tag-teaming a mission was rare, but it happened occasionally. There were three targets hiding out together this time, so the mission required four agents instead of the customary two. Lucy and Emma sat across from me equipped with the laser guns Marty recently put into effect, while I was carrying my favorite shotgun and Adrian gripped his trusty soundless shooter.
He narrowed his eyes at the light, as put off by it as I was. Were they still inside?
"The executive said they'd be asleep. They always sleep at the back of the bookstore." Lucy gulped, her fingers rested on the barrel of her laser gun like a good CO agent. She brushed a stray lock behind her ear. "Why are they still awake?"
“They could have just left one of the lights on.”
"I'll go in through the front." I inclined my head. "Lucy, Emma, you guys take the back."
“No way. I want the front,” Emma challenged.
Adrian shot a warning look at her. “Just listen to Jane.”
Her mouth opened as if to protest, but she seemed to think better of it and pressed her lips together. She turned her glare from Adrian to me. "I don't remember her being in charge of this mission." There we were, back to being enemies again. So much for tentative friends.
Adrian remained silent and pointed to Lucy and Emma. He hitched his thumb behind his shoulder, commanding them to follow my orders. Emma and Lucy scurried in their assigned direction while Adrian and I waited behind the car.
"Back me up," I whispered to him. I crept out from the safety of the car, keeping my footsteps as light as possible and the shotgun aimed in front of me. The light from the bookstore was on, but no one was inside. At least not from what I could see in the front. I kicked the door open, and the wood landed with a compliant thud. I scurried inside and heard Adrian's footsteps trail my own.
I raced forward toward the back of the bookstore. My gun whirled around my surroundings, ready to aim and shoot. He caught up with me within seconds. I plastered on an expression of mock disappointment.
"No one's here."
"It’s like someone told them we were coming."
I snatched a gaze in his direction, but he wasn’t looking at me. I suppressed the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. He spun his gun in his hand in a fit of nervous energy, ready to fire but with nothing to fire at.
"Let's get Lucy and Em…”
A scream cut me off.
Adrian kicked down the back door within seconds of the cry. I raced behind him to the parking lot behind the store. My gaze jumped from the FBI agent with a gun pointed to Emma's head to Lucy face down on the ground with blood oozing from her shoulder, to the three other FBI agents backing up the one who aimed at Emma.
Suddenly, Adrian’s artillery fire cut down the man holding Emma and another FBI agent within moments. The large weight of an FBI agent pushed against my back. I slammed the man to the ground with a combination of Judo and Sambo. Another man punched my gullet, and for a moment I collapsed to the floor. His fist collided with cement as I rolled away in time. I kicked his groin. He groaned, falling to his knees.
"Kill him!" Emma screamed.
Within moments, my fist punched the nape of his neck and slammed his unconscious body to the floor. I pulled out my shotgun and aimed it at him. The lolling of his head against the ground looked so pathetic, I felt like I was about to murder the same baby I'd killed on the last mission. They were defenseless and no match for me.
What had this FBI agent done except followed orders? Tried to round up a CO agent or two to bring back to the station to be another spy?
I drew in a quick intake of breath, the shotgun trembling in my hand. How could I have been so stupid? I forgot to warn Marge and Tristan about how some missions were handled by tag-teams. Four CO agents against four FBI agents? The effort was like eating cake.
"Shoot him!"
My finger rested on the trigger. But the gun shook in my unsteady hand. It was like a blind man shooting at a miniature target he'd had no experience with. If I shot the man now, it would be unclean. It would have to take several bullets. He'd wake up, he'd be in pain, and he’d be suffering for something he didn't deserve to suffer for and...
BANG.
A bullet punctured the man’s chest.
Yet my barrel remained cool, my trigger untouched. I stepped back in shock and peered up from the body to make eye contact with my partner.
Adrian stood over the lifeless corpse. He spun the gun in his hand again, cooling off the warm barrel from the force of his shot.
Emma cursed at me. Spit literally flew into the air with the force of her swearing. She picked up Lucy and stormed toward the car, all the while muttering insults under her breath.
Adrian reached out toward me. His rough, calloused hand pulled me to my feet. I leaned against him, embarrassed and relieved and clutching the cold shotgun with a shaking hand. He didn't say a word, just supported my weight as we started back toward the car with the blue light guiding us to the private runway.
No one said anything until we reached the plane. Emma approached the blue light first, Lucy in tow. She pressed the blue light on the door of the plane. After the customary eye scan and fingerprint test, the door allowed her and Lucy to pass through. Adrian and I did the same.
He rushed to the pilot as soon as we boarded. “We need to hurry back. One of our operatives needs medical attention as soon as possible.”
It was only after the pilot began preparing for takeoff back to California and radioed the headquarters to prepare medical help that Adrian took my hand again. He guided me to the back of the plane's seats.
I heard the roar of the jumbo high-speed jets of the CO-operated plane being activated. Yep, the speed was illegal. If any air traffic spotted us they’d try to flag us down, but activating the jets meant we’d get to California in less than an hour. The law was simply a guideline for CO agents.
Emma applied pressure to Lucy’s wound while I searched the plane with desperation for more medical equipment. There was none to be found. All we could do for her was settle back into our seats and hope we’d get to California as fast as possible.
“Jane,” Adrian’s low voice shook me out of my thoughts and back into his arms. “Why?”
He didn’t need to finish the rest of the question. I already knew the possibilities: Why didn’t I shoot the FBI agent? Why wasn’t our target there? Why were there four FBI agents?
I choked down the anxiety rising
in my chest. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His murmur brushed past my ear, but each word punctuated enough force to be a standalone sentence.
I dropped his hand. “I was just startled from losing the contract. It won’t happen again.” Still, my palms sweated at the thought of having to kill another innocent person. Another CO agent’s parents. Another innocent mother and her child.
Adrian didn’t respond. The dismissal of skepticism filled his eyes. He held me against him instead of pressing me for further information.
Unshakeable worry tugged at the corner of my mind. His silence spoke volumes. There was something being destroyed in our relationship, some bridge of trust which had existed before and was starting to give way under the weight of the secrets we kept from one another.
“I got executive,” I whispered to him.
The corner of his mouth curved upward. An “I-Told-You-So” look entered his blue orbs. “I got CEO.”
“I thought you had training coming up first.”
“After the training is over for a few years, I take over.” He shed a self-satisfied smile, and all tension from the botched mission disintegrated around us. He was so handsome, with his lightly tanned skin and the sparkle in his eyes and the perfect curve of his jaw. There was something strong and charming in his expression at all times, but especially when he smiled at me. “I have a few more missions on my own to complete, but then I’ll be in charge. The future’s set for us.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I’ll make sure you get the future you want.”
I sighed. Emma’s words from the other day haunted me. “I need to ask you something.”
“She’s lost consciousness! She’s lost consciousness!” Emma screamed from the front of the plane. We rushed back. Lucy’s body rolled back against her seat, her eyes squeezed shut. The external bleeding had stopped, but internal bleeding couldn’t be calculated yet. Her chest rose and fell with only a minimal movement. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
For the rest of the plane ride, we watched Lucy. Adrian tried a South Asian technique he’d learned to increase the amount of air entering someone’s lungs. Emma cleaned up the drying blood from Lucy’s body, while I held Lucy’s hand and took her pulse. The beat of life weakened in her wrist.