Kiana Cruise

by Jody Studdard

  “I thought we were going to train,” Kiana said.

  “Not now. We will train again tomorrow and tomorrow we will begin working with weapons: staffs and nunchaku. But for now I have something different planned for you. I’ve actually been contemplating this for a while, since you have definitely earned it, but when I saw your father was here I decided there was no better time.”

  Kiana was puzzled. She had no idea what he was talking about. She had earned something? What?

  “Please remove your belt,” Master Gwon said. “And hand it to me.”

  Kiana’s eyes got big. “Remove my belt? Why?”

  “Because you will not be needing it any more. I have a new one for you.”

  At that, he revealed his hand, which he had been holding behind his back. In it was a new belt. It looked just like Kiana’s but it had one notable - and very significant - difference. Kiana’s belt had four stripes, indicating her rank as a fourth degree black belt. This new one had five.

  Kiana’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets the minute she saw it. She couldn’t believe it. Normally, a taekwondo practitioner was only allowed to be promoted to the next degree after a set amount of time, and that amount of time was equivalent to the person’s degree at the time. As such, a person who was a first degree could only be promoted to second degree after one year of training, a second degree could only be promoted to a third degree after two years, a third to fourth after three years, and a fourth to fifth after four years. Kiana had become a fourth degree when she had been fourteen, so technically she had two more years left until she was eligible to become a fifth degree.

  “Are you serious?” she asked. Despite her confusion, she could barely contain the excitement in her voice. “I still have -”

  Master Gwon knew what she was going to ask even before she asked it.

  “The rules for promotion are not rigid. A grand master may alter them if circumstances warrant. And in your case, they definitely do. Your skills are far beyond any fourth degree I have ever worked with. As such, you are ready for, and you have earned, promotion to the next degree.”

  Kiana didn’t know what to do. She was completely flabbergasted. She just stood there with a stupid look on her face.

  “Well?” Master Gwon said, indicating the belt, which was still in his hand. Kiana was so surprised she hadn’t taken it yet. “Do you want it or not?”

  “I want it.” She snatched it away so quickly her hand looked like nothing but a blur as she did. Michael and Master Gwon couldn’t help but laugh at her response.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening with your father. I will see you first thing in the morning. As always, do not be late.”

  With a smile and a bow, he turned and left.

  “Wow,” Michael said. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  He wasn’t the only one. Kiana was still in shock. It was going to take her quite a while to settle down and return to normal. Her heart was racing in her chest and it wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down any time soon.

  “I’m kinda jealous,” Michael said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a higher rank than me.”

  Kiana smiled as she realized what he was talking about. Michael was good at taekwondo, too, and he himself was a fourth degree black belt. He probably could have gone further, but upon Kiana’s birth he had cut back on his own training so he could focus on hers.

  Kiana was never one to pass up a good opportunity to tease him.

  “Don’t worry. When we spar, I promise I won’t beat you up too bad. And since I’m a higher rank now, that means I’m in charge from now on. Right? Even around the house?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get your hopes up, young lady.”

  They laughed, he put an arm around her, and they headed back toward the barracks.

  Chapter 13

  The final few weeks of Kiana’s USIA training were grueling, and her instructors continued to cram her brain with more information than she imagined possible. In addition, she continued to practice her shooting, and much to her delight she had improved immensely. She could hit the bull’s-eye with almost every shot and she could hit moving targets almost as well. The highlight of her remaining month (or lowlight, depending on how you looked at it) was the wilderness survival test. As Michael had mentioned during his visit, it was a simple concept - they took her in a helicopter to a chosen spot in the surrounding desert, then had her make her way back to the USIA’s training facility. She was given a pair of hiking boots, a utility knife, an old-fashioned compass, and a small canteen of water.

  It was dreadful. It was at least a hundred degrees that day, and the sun beat down on her from above. The reflection off of the sand was so bright she could barely see ten feet in front of her and within seconds of the helicopter’s departure she was covered with a thick layer of perspiration and dust. It was pretty gross, to say the least. Anyway, she had faith in herself and she knew she could do it, so without any hesitation she trudged forward into the desert.

  But it wasn’t easy. Within an hour, she had consumed half of her canteen, so she had to slow down and pace herself. She tried the old trick of cutting open a cactus and drinking its juice, which surprisingly did work, but not nearly as well as she had hoped and the cactus’s juice was absolutely vile. It was warm and tasted like a cross between milk and glue. At one point, about four hours into her trek, she came to a cliff that was extremely rocky and at least fifty feet tall. She was too tired to go around it, and it looked like it went on for miles in each direction, so she decided to climb it, which was pretty dangerous since she didn’t have any rope or climbing gear with her. At one point, when she was about thirty feet up, the rock she was using as a step crumbled under her foot and she started to fall, but she managed to save herself by brute strength alone (she pulled herself up using nothing but her arms). As such, she eventually made it to the top of the cliff, but upon doing so she was forced to stop and take a much-needed break before moving along.

  And then it happened. The one thing she had feared the most about the survival test.

  She heard a soft hiss, then an eerie rattle.

  She turned slowly, and her heart stopped as she saw a large snake sitting in the sand just a few feet from her. It was grayish brown, with dark splotches at regular intervals along its back, and it was at least four feet long. It shook the rattle on the end of its tail repeatedly, as if it were trying to intimidate her, and it raised its head into the air, revealing its long, curved fangs and its forked tongue.

  Kiana knew you were never supposed to make quick movements around snakes, for fear of frightening them, but she couldn’t help herself. She had always been afraid of snakes, as long as she could remember, so she instantly tried to scramble away, trying to get as far away from the beast as possible. Unfortunately, however, her sudden movements did exactly what she had feared – they spooked the snake and it leaped directly at her. It was lightning fast, and she would have been bitten for sure but for one thing.

  She drew her knife and, in midair, sliced the creature’s head off.

  To be honest, she didn’t even know how she had done it. It had been pure reflex, and survival instinct, and undoubtedly a large dose of luck as well. Regardless, she was grateful, since she had survived, and she quickly scrambled away since the snake’s head was on one side of her and the body was on the other and both were still writhing around in the sand, which was pretty creepy to say the least.

  The rest of the trek was tiring but luckily not very eventful. It took her almost eight full hours, and she was totally exhausted, dehydrated, and sunburned by the time she made it back to the USIA’s training facility, but she made it nonetheless. Harrington, Master Gwon, and several other instructors greeted her upon arrival and congratulated her, then took her to the training facility’s medical center for treatment and recovery.

  As such, her USIA training had officially been completed. Two days later, she was given a certificate
of completion, she received congratulations and best wishes from her instructors (including Master Gwon, who said he expected to hear from her frequently), and she was flown back to Seattle.

  Chapter 14

  Pavel Voronov was happy. Despite countless complications during the past two weeks, most involving issues with the local labor force he had been employing, his compound in Costa Rica was finally nearing completion and within a week or so it would be ready for what he referred to as “Phase II” of his operation. In short, Phase II was the addition of Dr. Charles Zander, a brilliant man who was one of the world’s most talented and renowned brain surgeons (many of his peers considered him the Alfred Einstein of neuroscience). Zander was the absolute key to Voronov’s plan for vengeance and without him nothing more could be done.

  Sitting across the desk from Voronov was his longtime friend and assistant, Dimitri Nikitin. Dimitri was a man in his early forties with deep, black hair, a chiseled physique, and a permanent scowl on his face. In all of his years, Voronov had never had a better friend or assistant. Dimitri was capable of carrying out any task, no matter how unusual or difficult, and he did so with an efficiency that had always impressed and pleased Voronov.

  “I need you to take a plane to British Columbia, Canada. Zander is there, at one of his vacation homes in Whistler. He is making final preparations to join us. Once he finishes those preparations, I want you to bring him here so he can continue his research. It is of utmost importance he arrive here as soon as possible to prevent our plans from being delayed any further. Already, thanks to the recent labor issues, we are two weeks behind.”

  “I’ll leave immediately,” Dimitri said. “Do you anticipate any complications?”

  Voronov shook his head. “I do not. But if there are any, you are to do what you do best, Dimitri. Eliminate them. Zander has already agreed to work with us and he has been paid handsomely to do so. As such, I want him here. Now. Understood?”

  Dimitri was a man of few words. As such, his only response was a small, curt nod.

  “When you’re done in Whistler,” Voronov continued, “leave someone at Zander’s house to monitor the place. I have a feeling the authorities, probably the Americans, and possibly the Brits, will start snooping around as soon as they discover Zander is missing. I want to know if they do. Send some of your men to monitor Zander’s other houses in San Diego and Cabo as well.”

  Dimitri nodded, stood, and departed.

  Voronov smiled. It was only a matter of time now. Within a few months, if not sooner, Zander would complete his research and Operation Apocalypse would officially begin.

  Chapter 15

  As far as Kiana was concerned, her first day at Jackson High School was a good one. Her teachers were knowledgeable and nice, she found her way around campus without any real difficulties, and, most importantly, she made a new friend.

  Her name was Stacy Erickson and like Kiana she was a junior. She was an attractive girl, with blue eyes and long, auburn hair that hung to the middle of her back. They had two classes together (English and American history) and Stacy introduced herself after the second one, which was right before their lunch break.

  “I don’t recognize you. Are you new here?”

  Kiana nodded. “I’m Kiana. Kiana Cruise. I just moved here this summer.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Where are you from?”

  “California. Anaheim, to be exact.”

  “Welcome to Jackson. What do you think of it so far?”

  “Seems pretty nice to me.”

  “Why don’t you join me for lunch? I’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”

  Kiana couldn’t have been happier. To her, nothing was more important than finding some new friends at Jackson.

  She followed Stacy into the school’s cafeteria, which was large, crowded, and bustling with activity. Countless students stood in lines to get food, others sat at tables eating, and some lounged along the far wall. Stacy made her way through the room, stopping occasionally to say hi to people she knew, then led Kiana to a table where two other girls were seated. The first was a tall brunette named Hailey Evans and the second was a small, wiry girl named Veronica Jones. Veronica had, arguably, the prettiest red hair Kiana had ever seen. It was very light, almost blonde in spots, and it sparkled brightly when the light hit it just right. Stacy introduced them to Kiana and they started to eat their lunches together. Their conversation was nothing but small talk at first, as they got to know one another, but it quickly gained interest (at least as far as Kiana was concerned) when Veronica said they were softball players. They played on Jackson’s varsity team and also on an 18u select team that was called the Washington LadyCats.

  “Do you play?” Stacy asked.

  Kiana nodded. “I was on the varsity team at my high school in California and on a select team called Club LA.”

  “Those California teams are so good,” Hailey said. “They killed us on our trip down there last year.”

  “Softball is really popular in southern California,” Kiana said. “A lot of girls begin playing as soon as they can walk. And since the weather is good you can play year round, so that helps, too.”

  “That must be so nice,” Veronica said. “Up here, we spend most of our time practicing, inside, waiting for the weather to finally get good enough to actually go outside and play a game or two. And when it does, we still get rained out about half of the time. If not more.”

  “Last year was a complete disaster,” Stacy said. “I think half of our games got scrapped.”

  “At least,” Veronica said.

  “Over the years,” Kiana said, “I’ve played several teams from Washington. They all seemed pretty good to me. There was this one team that beat us really bad one year. The Eastside Angels.”

  All three girls nodded. Clearly, they knew the name.

  “That’s one of the best teams around,” Stacy said.

  “No doubt,” Veronica said.

  “And there was another team,” Kiana said, “called the Washington Wildcats. Their second baseman was incredible. She wasn’t that big, so we didn’t take her too seriously at first, but she hit back-to-back home runs off of our number one pitcher. We were in shock because no one had ever done that before. From that point forward, every time she came to bat we walked her.”

  The girls smiled.

  “That’s Rachel Adams,” Hailey said. “She’s a freshman over at Lynnwood High. She’s a great player. One of the best around.”

  “No doubt,” Veronica said.

  “Now that you moved up here,” Stacy said, “are you still interested in playing?”

  “Definitely. And to be honest I don’t have much of a choice. My dad loves softball. He would shoot me if I stopped playing.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Tell me about it,” Stacy said. “My dad is a softball psycho. He has a folder with my stats from every game I’ve ever played. All the way back to Little League.”

  “Stop it,” Veronica said. “Your dad is nothing. My dad, he’s a beast. He put a batting cage in our back yard and I have to go out there and hit for at least thirty minutes each night. One night, he wouldn’t even give me my dinner because I hadn’t done my hitting yet.”

  “That’s nothing,” Hailey said. “My dad made me practice in the snow one year. I nearly got hypothermia.”

  They all laughed. Softball dads were a strange breed indeed. Kiana, of all people, knew that well. One year, after she had had a bad game (she went 0-4 with three strikeouts, and she made an error in the field) Michael chewed her out, then drove her straight to a gym with a batting cage and made her work on her fundamentals for over two hours.

  “If you’re interested,” Stacy said, “I can talk to our coach and set up a tryout for you. Technically our roster is full for the season, but he’s always looking for talent and he told me a while back he has no problem adding another girl as long as he thinks she’ll help the team.”

  Kiana couldn’t believe her l
uck. Finding a select team had been one of her goals for the week, and she knew if she didn’t find one soon she’d start feeling the pressure from Michael.

  “That would be great. I’d really like that.”

  “You’ll like our coach,” Veronica said. “He’s a really nice guy and unlike some coaches he never yells at you even if you make a bonehead play. Which I do on occasion. And our team is pretty good, too. After all, we took down the Bellevue Beast just last week.”

  They all smiled and exchanged high fives. Kiana didn’t know exactly what they were talking about, but apparently the Bellevue Beast was a pretty good team. Either that or it was a rival of some sort. Either way, the girls were clearly happy they had beaten them.

  And Kiana was happy, too, since Stacy was good to her word and set up a tryout for her the next weekend. It was at a nice park in downtown Mill Creek called McCall Field. The entire team was there, including Stacy, Hailey, and Veronica, but they were working on drills in the outfield while the team’s coach, who was a short, heavy man named Marv Kloppenburg, worked with Kiana in the infield.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Kiana. What position do you play?”

  “Short. Second, too, on occasion.”

  “Sweet. I can always use another middle infielder. Take your spot and I’ll hit you a few.”

  Kiana was a little nervous, but not overly so. She had done countless tryouts over the years so they didn’t really bother her too much. At the same time, however, she hadn’t been able to practice much in recent months since she had been in Nevada doing her USIA training, so she was worried she would be rusty.

  Marv started by hitting her some soft grounders and she fielded them easily and tossed them to an assistant who was covering first base. He then hit her a few more, each one a little harder than the last, and each a little further away. She handled them all with little or no difficulty. One ball took a funny hop and hit her on the thigh, but she grabbed it and fired it to first anyway.

  “Well done, Kiana. Way to stay with it. Very nice play.”