She regretted it the minute she did it. He let out a loud, painful yelp, then fell over onto his back, with all four legs sticking straight up in the air above him. It looked so ridiculous Kiana couldn’t help but laugh, but her laughter was short-lived when she realized he wasn’t moving at all. He wasn’t even breathing. For a few brief, terrifying seconds she thought she had killed him. But as soon as she put a hand on him, to see if he was indeed dead, he sprang back to life, jumped to his feet, and raced away from her as fast as he could.
That was the last time he ever came into her yard and from that point forward, the mere sight of her sent him scampering for cover.
Michael got home a while later so she bummed some money off of him for gas and then they took her car and got some dinner. He wanted to see how it handled and was immediately impressed. They had dinner at a restaurant in the Mill Creek Town Center, then cruised around some more, and it actually turned out to be a good learning experience for them both since they were still learning their way around their new environment. Snohomish County was largely rural, especially in the northern and eastern regions, and it had a lot of small to mid-sized towns interspersed throughout. They went to several, including Monroe, Lake Stevens, Marysville, and Arlington. Monroe was pretty interesting since it had fairgrounds and a state penitentiary (for some strange, demented, inexplicable reason Kiana had always wanted to tour a prison), and Lake Stevens was nice since it was near a small, pretty lake (thus the name), but she wasn’t too impressed with Marysville or Arlington. Marysville’s downtown area was rundown and dirty, and Arlington was filled with hillbillies. At one point, they had to wait for ten minutes as a farmer tried to get his cows out of the road, and at another point they got behind a tractor that was driving ten miles per hour.
“I didn’t think tractors were allowed on the road,” Kiana said.
“Apparently in Arlington they are,” Michael said.
At that point, it was getting pretty late so they headed for home. Kiana pulled the car into the garage, went upstairs and took a shower, slipped on a nightgown, then headed back downstairs with a pillow and blanket in hand.
Michael stopped her briefly in the hallway. He had a strange look on his face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sleeping in my car tonight.”
He laughed. He couldn’t really believe what he had heard but he didn’t have any reason to object so he didn’t. “Make certain the garage door is locked.”
“I will.”
She spent the entire night in her car in the garage. It really wasn’t that comfortable and she didn’t sleep well at all, and at one point Michael snuck out and took photos of her so he could tease her about it and post the photos on Facebook, but she didn’t care, not in the least. To her, all that mattered was she had a car.
Chapter 18
September 20 was an unforgettable day for Kiana. It started like any other day, with a few hours of classes. History was dreadfully boring and she kept nodding off and almost fell asleep twice. Math wasn’t much better. But things took a drastic change for the better during her lunch break when she received a text message from Beckman.
“Report to my office ASAP.”
The message was immediately followed by a call from Michael.
“I just wanted to make certain you got Beckman’s message. She needs to see us immediately.”
“Why? Is it a mission?”
“She wouldn’t say over the phone but usually, when she calls, it is.”
Kiana was so excited she grabbed her book bag off of the cafeteria table and ran as fast as she could to her car in the school’s parking lot. She could hardly believe it, but finally, after all of the months of training and after all of the sweat and hard work, she was going to get to do something real. Something important. Something that would finally let her say she was an agent.
Michael was already in Beckman’s office when she arrived and he was seated directly across the desk from her. They were looking at some paperwork spread out on the desk in front of them and both looked up the minute she entered the room.
“Kiana,” Beckman said. “Good to see you again. Please have a seat.”
Kiana wasted no time doing as told.
“I called you two here today because I have an assignment for you. It’s a simple one, a simple pickup, but I need you on it pronto. You’re to meet this man at 6:00 pm tonight at the Starbucks in downtown Bellingham. His name is Hubert Jones and he’s one of our contacts in Vancouver, British Columbia. He used to be an agent in the CIA but left several years ago to do freelance work.”
She showed them a picture of a man in his mid forties with short, blonde hair and brown eyes. He had a mustache and a long, curved nose that appeared, to Kiana, to be much too big for his face.
“He will have a file for you,” Beckman continued. “Its contents are confidential so I cannot reveal them to you, but they’re quite valuable. As such it’s of paramount importance they be delivered to this office as soon as possible.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Michael said. “Any potential complications?”
“None that I know of. But I want you to be careful when dealing with Jones. He’s notoriously paranoid and jumpy and we’ve had some issues with him in the past. Do not do anything to upset or anger him. Just get the file and bring it here. Understood?”
“Understood,” Michael said.
“What’s my role?” Kiana asked.
“Backup,” Beckman said. “Your father will handle the main transaction. You will do whatever he needs.”
Kiana was a little disappointed but not much. She had hoped for something a little more extensive but at the same time was happy to have an assignment, even a simple one.
Beckman dismissed them and off they went. Bellingham was a city in western Washington about two hours north of Seattle and about twenty minutes south of the Canadian border. They took Michael’s car and the drive there was nice (except for one stretch at a city named Mount Vernon where they hit some traffic), but the closer they got, the more anxious Kiana got. She could hardly sit still in her seat.
Michael smiled. “Excited?”
She tried to sound calm and collected, like it was no big deal, but at the same time she had to be honest. “A little.”
He chuckled. “I remember my first mission. I was excited, too. It was really similar to this, really nothing more than a courier job. It was back when I worked for the CIA, back before they formed the USIA.”
“Did anything exciting happen?”
“No, nothing at all. But it seemed exciting anyway. Maybe an agent’s first mission is always exciting, no matter what happens. Regardless, for today, I want you to stay at my side at all times. Follow my lead and do whatever I say, whenever I say. And most importantly, stay aware. While I’m handling Jones, you monitor the surrounding area. Watch for anything unusual or suspicious.”
“Like what?”
“Like accomplices. In my experience, someone like this Jones, who has a record of being paranoid and unstable, would never come to an exchange like this alone.”
They arrived in Bellingham ten minutes later and their GPS led them to their destination, which was a Starbucks in the city’s downtown area. Like most Starbucks, it was small and nice, with the usual assortment of coffee, chocolate, and other caffeinated goodies. Kiana was tempted to grab a mocha (white chocolate was her favorite) but remembered they were on an assignment and decided she would need to wait.
Jones was already there when they arrived. He was seated in one of the chairs near the front of the store. To Kiana, he looked a lot older than in the photo Beckman had shown them. He had long wrinkles under both eyes and his nose looked even bigger in person. He was dressed in jeans and a striped polo shirt and he had a manila folder in one hand.
“Jones?” Michael asked. “I’m agent Cruise. This is my associate, Kiana.”
It was all Kiana could do to stay calm. She couldn’t believe it, but her first assignment was officially
underway.
“What took you so long?” Jones asked. “You’re late.”
Kiana looked at her watch. It was 6:02 pm. As such, technically he was correct, they were indeed late, but only by two minutes.
“I apologize,” Michael said. “We hit some traffic coming through Mount Vernon. Do you have the file?”
“What do you think this is?” Jones said, waving it in front of him. “I’ve got it right here.”
“Very good. We’ll take it and be on our way.”
“I want some money.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I want some money. I didn’t drive all the way down here from Vancouver for nothing. You know how long I was stuck at that border crossing?”
“We were told you had already been paid. This was supposed to be a pickup, not an exchange.”
“I have been paid. But I want some more.”
“I’m not authorized to give you any more. Nor do I have any on me. I was sent to pick up the file, nothing more.”
“Then you’re not getting it.”
“You don’t want to do this, Jones. You’re asking for trouble. You were an agent once. You know what will happen if you renege on a deal with us. There will be consequences.”
“Don’t try to intimidate me, Cruise. It won’t work. I’m not afraid of you and your stupid agency. It’s not like you’re going to send someone to break my kneecaps.”
It was at that point Kiana first noticed something interesting. She had been listening to their conversation closely, but also, like Michael had instructed, she had been watching the room carefully. Sitting at a table directly across from them was a man wearing a navy sport coat. As soon as Jones said the word ‘intimidate’ the man put down the newspaper he had been reading, stood up, and started to walk toward the store’s front door, which was directly behind them. As he got near, and as he was walking just to Kiana’s right, he reached into his sport coat and pulled a small, silver pistol from within. At the angle he was approaching, there was no way for Michael to see it (the man had chosen his path wisely, clearly to use Kiana as a shield from Michael who he perceived to be the real threat), but Kiana could see the gun as clear as day and the sight of it made her heart race.
At first, she didn’t know what to do. Should she say something, to alert Michael to the danger? But if she did, would he have enough time to do anything? The man already had his gun out, so even with a warning there was probably no way Michael could draw his weapon in time. And the same was true for her. She had her gun in her holster, but she would never be able to draw it before the man shot them both.
So she did the only thing possible, and she did it without thinking. As fast as lightning, she kicked the gun out of his hand. And then, once he was disarmed (his gun flew across the store and hit a shelf loaded with bags of espresso beans), she kicked him again, this time in the stomach, and when he bent forward from the force of the blow, she kicked him a third time, this time right in the face. She hit him so hard he flipped completely over in midair and crashed back to the floor, taking out a nearby shelf of glass mugs as he did. He grimaced loudly as his head hit the floor and he was knocked completely unconscious.
In the meantime, Michael sprang to action and took out Jones with a single punch that sent him sprawling over the back of the chair he was sitting in.
“I’ll have these two detained until I get further instructions from Beckman. Did you get the folder?”
Jones had dropped it the second he had hit the ground, and Kiana had retrieved it while Michael had been busy binding him.
“Right here,” she said.
“Very good, young lady. Very good indeed.”
At that, Kiana’s first assignment came to a quick and successful end.
And as you can probably imagine, she was nothing but smiles the whole drive home.
Chapter 19
October 5 was the day Kiana decided she needed to make a change. She really liked her new school, Jackson High. The teachers were nice, the staff was courteous and helpful, and the campus was safe and clean. But despite all of that, there was one thing that was completely ruining the school, at least as far as Kiana was concerned.
Brett Kingsley.
Brett Kingsley was a junior, and he was a star lineman on the school’s football team. He was an absolute monster of a boy, with broad shoulders, burly arms and legs, and a thick brow that reminded Kiana of photos she had seen of Neanderthals.
He was the school bully.
Kiana had seen him picking on other kids, usually underclassmen, on almost a daily basis since her first day at Jackson. At first, like most students, she had ignored him and tried to mind her own business. But as the bullying got worse and more and more kids got hurt (a sophomore named Benji Wilson got his hand broken when Brett stuffed him into a locker and a freshman named Steve Jones got a concussion when Brett tried to give him a ‘swirly’ in the boys’ bathroom during lunch), Kiana decided she needed to do something. At first she thought about handling it ‘the official way’ by turning him into the school’s authorities or the local Mill Creek police department, or maybe even by having someone at the USIA do something about it, but in the end she decided it was something she wanted to handle herself. And she decided she wanted to handle it in the only way a bully would truly understand. So she waited until school was finished for the day, then headed to the school’s parking lot, which she knew from previous experience was one of Brett’s favorite hunting grounds. Since the parking lot was always busy at the end of the day, with everyone heading for his or her car to go home, he had plenty of prey to choose from.
The day’s target was a boy named Riley Nelson. Riley was a senior, so he was older than most of Brett’s normal victims, but since he was a member of the school’s band (and Brett hated band members) he was fair game. As usual, there was a bunch of people gathered around, watching as Brett tormented him. As Kiana walked up, Brett had him by the collar and he was trying to stuff him into a metal garbage can.
Kiana took her place directly across from him, just a few feet away. She couldn’t believe it, but he was even bigger up close than he was from afar. Even so, she was not intimidated. Not in the least.
“Put him down, Brett,” she said.
All of the onlookers turned at once at the sound of her voice. No one could believe what she had just done. The last person who had challenged Brett (it had happened years ago, when he had been a freshman) had ended up with a broken nose and several bruised ribs.
Brett was the most surprised of them all. He could not believe someone had challenged him. His face immediately started to turn red.
“What did you say?”
“I said put him down.” Kiana tried to make her voice sound as loud and as stern as possible, and she put special emphasis on the word ‘down.’
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll make you.”
Murmurs started to go through the crowd. Everyone was absolutely stunned at what was happening. They couldn’t believe the new girl, whom few people even knew, was challenging the most intimidating boy at the school.
Brett tossed Riley to the side and turned his full attention to Kiana. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I may be new here, so I realize it isn’t my place to be critical of things, but at the same time I really like this school and I’m not going to let someone like you ruin it.”
“How are you going to stop me?” There was extreme condescension, and a little mockery, in his voice. “I’m the king here. Brett Kingsley, the King of Jackson.”
Kiana smiled. “That’s clever, Brett. I’ll give you that. But you know what they say. A king’s reign comes to an end sooner or later. And yours is coming to an end today, one way or another.”
The onlookers (the number of which had grown greatly in the past few minutes as word spread around campus someone had challenged Brett) started to really get interested. They could not believe how direct Kiana was being with Bret
t, nor how antagonistic.
“You think you’re tough?” Brett asked. “I don’t think you’re tough at all. I should just punch you in the face.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I don’t punch girls.”
“Why not? You afraid of them? You think one will fight back and whoop your big, fat butt?”
“I’m not fat. I’m big boned. That’s what my mama always says.”
Everyone laughed, including Kiana.
“How cute. Did you hear that everybody? Brett’s a mama’s boy. I bet he’s a sissy, too.”
His eyes got big and they were filled with rage. He had never been called a sissy before. He took a step closer, clearly trying to intimidate her. But much to his surprise, she was not frightened, not in the least, and much to his shock and disbelief she held her ground.
“You’re really starting to make me mad,” he said. It was clearly true, because his face was bright red, his eyes were bloodshot, and a nasty vein had popped out of the side of his forehead. Kiana found it hard to believe, but he actually looked even uglier than before.
“Then let’s do it,” she said. She turned to the onlookers. “Who wants to see it? Who wants to see me put an end to ‘The King’s’ reign? Right here, right now.”
Few people responded at first. They wanted her to do it, some of them desperately, since many of them had been Brett’s victims over the years, but few of them believed she could. After all, she was a girl, 5’6” and 120 pounds, going up against a boy who was over twice her size. It just didn’t seem possible. In addition, they also feared retaliation from Brett if they sided with Kiana and she lost. As such, most of them stayed quiet and said nothing, but their attitude changed when Riley stood up and said, “Do it, Kiana. Kick that mama’s boy’s butt.”
Kiana had always liked a good show, so she decided to play it up a little more for the crowd. She also wanted to rile Brett up some more and push him completely over the edge (in her experience, combatants were easier to beat when they lost control of their emotions). So she looked right at him and said, “When this is done, one of us is going to be laying on the ground, crying like a baby, and it’s not going to be me.”
Kiana Cruise Page 9