We walked into the gloriously air conditioned library and to our meeting room in the back. Mr. S motioned to one of the front tables, set down a notebook, and said, “Have a seat.”
I sat, and Mr. S pulled a chair to the other side of the table and sat across from me.
“I’ve listened to the mp3s of your debriefings,” he said, “and I’ve read your official report of the events of July 12. In fact, I’ve gone over them several times in painstaking detail. And while I don’t think it was the best plan for you to go to the port alone with a girl you suspected might be luring you into a trap, it was your track and report mission, and you did stay in contact with Jun. I can’t fault you for those choices. They were yours to make.”
“Seriously?” I wasn’t in trouble?
“Seriously. But there is one discrepancy between your verbal statement and your written report. Something that concerns me.”
Uh-oh. I swallowed and shifted in my seat.
“You said that once you’d taken the pictures of the boat, there was nothing else there that would help your investigation. Why, then, did you get on the boat? You told me in your verbal statement it was to see what it looked like and if Keiko might let you drive it.”
“Yeah, so?”
“In your written report, you also mentioned the hope that Keiko might be innocent, that she might like you, and that she might be taking you aboard to”—he glanced at his notebook—“‘have her way with you.’”
“Geez, Mr. S, I was joking.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Curiosity killed the cat, Agent Garmond. You didn’t know it then, but your curiosity would put Mary and Grace’s lives at risk, as well as your own.”
I looked at one of the scabs on my knuckles and hoped he wouldn’t go where I was thinking he might go.
“It occurred to me that you might lack a male role model in your life. Has your basketball coach or Mr. Kimbal spoken to you about girls, Spencer?”
Oh, please no. “Mr. S … you don’t have to—”
“Have they?”
“No, but—”
“Did your grandmother have a talk with you, then? On this subject?”
“Uh … she … not …” I scratched the back of my neck.
“Because I’d be willing to talk with you about these things.”
This was not happening. “Actually, I’m good.”
“I don’t think so. I’m afraid that, like most young men today, you’ve gathered information on this topic from your friends and television and movies. And, well, James Bond is not the best role model for a young man like yourself.”
“Mr. S, come on.”
“I’m embarrassing you, am I?”
“Yes.” So much.
“Good. Because when you became a part of this organization, you signed a contract. And you agreed to abstain from sex.”
“Mr. S, I didn’t!”
“And yet the hope was there, wasn’t it, when you decided to get on the boat?”
Oh, make it stop. “Mr. S.” I rubbed my hands over my face.
“We’re the good guys, Spencer. And while everyone makes mistakes, and while I extend a great deal of grace to my students, I can’t have my agents-in-training seeking out ways to take advantage of the opposite sex, be they friend or foe.”
Like I would even know how. “I was only going to see what she wanted to do,” I mumbled.
“Ah, spoken just like Adam in the Garden.” Mr. S chuckled. “The ‘It was Eve’s idea’ line of defense. But are we clear on this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
Oh-kay. So, was that it? Would he stop now?
“How’s your relationship with God, Spencer?”
I relaxed. He was shifting gears. “Uh … I think He answered one of my prayers?”
“Is that a question?”
“No. He did. Or maybe it was just a coincidence.”
“There is no such thing as coincidence, Spencer.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know have a relationship with him?”
“Um … I’ve been going to think about that.”
Mr. S seemed to be fighting a smile now, which knocked a load off my shoulders. “You’re a busy guy, and I appreciate your honesty. But make time to think about it, okay? I’d hate to see you struggle like C. S. Lewis.”
“The Narnia guy?”
“He remained a devout atheist until the age of thirty-one when, as he said, ‘I came into Christianity kicking and screaming.’”
Oh. “I’m not really kicking or screaming. I’m just doing my own thing. I mean, when I have time I’ll …” I took a breath. “I just need to think it through.”
“And I know you will.” Then he looked me straight in the eyes. “Spencer, you’re bright and tenacious and strong. I respect you.”
Okay, that was weird. “You do?”
Now he did smile. “Yes. In fact, I think you’re pretty terrific. I’m glad to know you.”
His words sent chills up my arms. Was he serious? Now he was complimenting me?
“I’d like to pray for you, Spencer. I pray for you every day already, in case you didn’t know. But I’d like to pray a blessing over you, if that’s all right with you.”
Uh … “Okay.”
He reached out and put his hand on my head. “Thank you, Lord, for my student, Spencer. May he come to trust you with all his heart and lean not on his own understanding. May he seek your will in all he does. You’ve promised to make his paths straight. Help him live a responsible life, a life of respect and righteousness. I know how special Spencer is to you, and today I pray that he’d know how special he is to me, now and forever. May he become all you intend for him to be. I’m honored to be his teacher. Bless him, bless his life, in Jesus’ name, amen.”
And on that note, I tried very hard not to cry me a river.
● ● ●
It’s dark. I fumble, find a light switch near the door, flip it on. Beer cans pepper the kitchen and living room floor. Seventies rock music blares over the stereo system, urging me not to fear the reaper. The room reeks of alcohol, body odor, and mildew. It smells like death to me. I find the stereo and click it off. I move down a long hallway.
In a back room, a girl’s body lies twisted in an unnatural shape just inside the doorway. Her blond hair is matted with blood. The room smells foul.
I crouch and brush the hair off of the girl’s broken face. Her nose is bleeding and one eye is swollen shut. A sleeve of her blouse is torn half off, and her arm bends the wrong way at her side.
I shuddered awake and sat up, my hand over my rapidly beating heart. I could feel the texture of my stitches though the thin fabric of my T-shirt. I was sitting in my bed at Grandma’s house. Home sweet home. The clock read 8:22 p.m.
As soon as I’d gotten home from the airport, I’d crashed. That had been six hours ago.
Grace.
I got up and dug my journal out of my backpack and logged down the dream. I hated these dreams about Grace. Mr. S and Prière had better do something with this information. And fast.
I moved to my desk and flipped open my MacBook. The miniscule pile of mail that had accumulated while I was in Japan sat beside my keyboard. I flipped through it, humming the reaper song from my dream. Among the junk mail and bills I found a flyer from Coach announcing summer camp. Missed most of that. Guess I’d show up for the rest of it, though. See if I still knew how to play.
My class schedule held little excitement—same as last year only up a step. American History was now World History, Algebra I was now Algebra II. Blah, blah. I couldn’t believe I was going to be a junior already. Time does fly.
The last piece of mail was a legal-sized envelope with no return address and a handwritten inscription. I ripped it open. It held one sheet of paper with a typed letter.
Jonas,
I know it’s been a while since you heard from me. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I want you to know that I’m a d
ifferent person than I was all those years ago. I have a successful career now, and I own my own home. I know that Lorraine would forbid it, but I’d really like to see you. I’ll wait for a call from you. If I don’t get one, maybe I’ll stop by sometime. I’d like to see my son.
Your father, Alex Wright
323-555-2375
A long silence passed, my mind blank. A lawnmower purred somewhere down the street. The neighbor’s dog barked. I shook myself back to reality and re-read the letter in my hand. Was this some kind of sick joke? I grabbed the envelope and studied the postmark. Pacific Palisades? Wasn’t that somewhere near the ocean, where the rich people lived? Actors and directors?
I don’t expect you to forgive me right away? I own my own home?
In Pacific Palisades? And he’s just writing now? All this time my dad had been living it up in Pacific Palisades? Forty minutes from here? Unbelievable. This I could not process.
I tore the letter into little bits. There was no way I was telling my grandma about this. Let the man come groveling if he wanted to see me so bad. I hoped he wouldn’t. All my curiosity about my father had suddenly turned into hatred.
I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I’d like to see my son.
“Well, who’s stopping you, Dad?” I mumbled aloud. “Come on by. We’ll talk about old times.”
I paced around my tiny room, trying to calm down. I had not seen this coming. Not by a long shot. I needed a distraction. My computer had booted up now, so I logged onto Facebook and clicked my messages. There was one from Gabe.
Hey. My youth group is having an all-nighter this Friday night at six o’clock. You should come. They’re a lot of fun. We play games all night and eat pizza. Lukas is going. And I’m pretty sure Isabel, Arianna, and Grace are too. Text me if you need a ride. ~Gabe
Tomorrow was Friday. I bit my lip. I’d never voluntarily attended a churcher teen event in my life. And this one was hours long.
But Grace might be there.
I was worried about Grace, but I knew I had to be careful. She was like squirrel. Get too close, and she’d skitter away.
But if I’d learned one thing this summer, it was that making assumptions was stupid. I needed to learn the facts before I acted. And I couldn’t do stuff on my own, either. Teamwork mattered. There was that quote Mr. S was always saying about multiple strands of cords being stronger than one. I recalled the three ropes that Beth had used to hook up our rappelling gear. We would have died if she’d used only one rope. And if I tried to help Grace on my own, she might die too.
So this meant that I needed to talk to Grace about stuff. And maybe talk to Arianna and Gabe too. And if all that backfired, Mr. S.
And, yes, I was fully aware that applying this same logic to the letter I’d just destroyed meant that I should talk to my dad too. Too bad I ripped it up.
THE END
Spencer will return in Ambushed
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ALPHA GROUP:
Grace Thomas, freshman at Pilot Point High School, a gymnast and cheerleader with long blond hair and blue eyes. Grace hates Spencer.
Wally Parks, fifteen-year-old homeschooled junior, Wally inherited his mother’s obsessive compulsive disorder and germ phobias. He loves reciting factoids.
Spencer Garmond, a six-foot-three sophomore; red-haired, varsity basketball player; grandson to Alice; sarcastic, impulsive, and gifted in prophecy.
Gabriel “Gabe” Stopplecamp, junior; black curly hair; glasses and braces; son of Mr. S and Kerri; honest, goodhearted; musician.
Jensina Han, senior; adopted Asian girl with dyed orange hair; loves to read; straight-A student; leader of Alpha group; plans to attend Azusa Pacific University and study business administration.
DIAKONOS GROUP:
Lukas Rodriguez, freshman at PPCS; Cuban native; dresses punk. Works at his mother’s hair salon and as a lifeguard. Speaks fluent Spanish and English. Isabel’s brother.
Arianna Sloan, sophomore; small, twiggy missionary kid; lived in France, England, and Japan before moving to the States; loves languages and medicine.
Isabel Rodriguez, junior; petite; Cuban native with curly brown hair; speaks fluent Spanish and English; loves to sing and work in her mother’s beauty salon; Lukas’s sister.
Nick Muren, junior; dark-haired, wealthy, arrogant pretty boy; father is a pastor at a mega church; dislikes Spencer; enjoys acting, partying, and chasing girls.
Jake Lindley, senior; black; bowtie-wearing, straight-A student with cornrows; loves academics and debate; seeking the Public Corruption post with plans to study law at Stanford.
Beth Watkins, senior; brown-haired; tough girl; former district champion in League Combat Training; leader of Diakonos group; plans to attend Mount Olive Special Forces Training Camp after graduation.
ADULT AGENTS:
Prière, mid-fifties; tall and thin with black hair; wears suits; native of France; never married, former field agent; now serves as a Level One intercessor.
Dave Kimbal, early forties; tall, pale, and muscular with red hair and freckles; never married; field agent assigned to protect his nephew, Spencer Garmond. His cover is a school resource officer.
Patrick “Mr. S” Stopplecamp, late forties; out of shape, pink-faced; bald; tiny double chin; thick glasses; serves as a Level One teaching agent in Pilot Point, California.
Jeannette “Kerri” Stopplecamp, mid-forties; short, round, with black curly hair and glasses; wife of Patrick; mother of Gabe and identical twins Mary and Martha; serves as a teaching agent with her husband.
Jean “Sasquatch” Sloan, late forties; tall, dark-haired, French. He is a Special Forces Project Gemini Agent assigned to track and protect Spencer Garmond. Father to Arianna Sloan. He has a twin brother, Christophe.
Hiroshi Toda, late forties; Japanese; slender with thinning hair. Serves as a Level One teaching agent in Okinawa, Japan.
Michito itou, late thirties; Japanese. Field agent assigned to Abaku-kai and to track and report Jun Uehara.
Dr. Maki, mid-fifties; Japanese; short, pudgy. Medical field agent assigned to Okinawa, Japan.
JAPANESE:
Jun Uehara, seventeen; Japanese; host brother for Spencer, Gabe, and Wally. Jun takes karate at Kimura Fitness and is working undercover as an agent-in-training to befriend Bushi Kogawa and become part of the Abaku-kai.
Keiko and Kozue Kimura, identical twins; seventeen; Japanese, host family for Grace, Isabel, and Arianna. Their father owns Kimura Fitness and Kimura Bank of Naha.
Hisoka Kimura, late forties; Japanese; owner of Kimura Fitness and Kimura Bank of Naha in Okinawa, Japan. He has twin daughters, Kozue and Keiko.
Bushi Kogawa, nineteen; Japanese; leader of the San Doubou and member of the Abaku-kai. Bushi excels in karate.
Shoko Miyake, late thirties; Japanese; leader of the Abakukai and Shizuka.
Glossary of Japanese Terms
Amerikan—American
Anata dare?—Who are you?
Aremaa!—Oh, my!
Arigato/Arigato gozaimasu/Arigato gozaimashita—Thank you
Baka—fool
Biiru—beer
Byooin—hospital
Daijoubu ka?—Are you okay?
Daijoubu—I’m okay/I’m fine
Damare!—Shut up!
Doko ni itteta ka?—Where have you been?
Donata desu ka?—Who is it?
Doshite sonna koto shi ta no?—Why did you do that?
Eigo—English
Eto—um
Ge—Gross
Genki desu—I’m good
Hai, so desu—yes, that’s right.
Hajime—begin
Hajimemashite—Nice to meet you
Hayakushite!—Hurry up!
Heiwa—peace
Hottoite kure!—Leave me alone!
Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi—One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
Iie—no/Don’t mention it
Ikou/Ikuzo/Ikuwayo
—Let’s go
Isoginasai—Hurry up
Ja mata ne/Mata ne/Ja ne—See you later
Junbi dekitayo—I’m ready
Jyuuhachi—eighteen
Kaeru no ko wa kaeru—Like father, like son
Kariforunia—California
Kisu shi-te—Kiss me
Konnichiwa—Hello
Mishion Ligu—Mission League
Mo ichi do—One more time
Nande?—Why?
Nani o shiteru no?—What are you doing?
Nanika atta?—What’s up?
Ne—huh
Odokasanai de yo!—you scared me!
Ogenki desuka?—How are you?
Ohayo—Good morning
Oitoma—I have to go now
Okasan—mother
Onegai shimasu—Let me train with you
Otosan—father
Panchi—punch
Seiretsu!—Line up!
Shinjirarenai!—I can’t believe it!
Shiranai—I don’t know
So desu ne—It is, isn’t it?/I agree./That’s right.
Subarashii!—Great!/Awesome!
Sugoi—wow Taco—octopus
Taifuu—typhoon
Tatakawa seru, Gojira!—Let’s fight, Godzilla!
Toire—toilet/I’m going to the bathroom
Tori—chicken
Totemo—very
Waka/wakatta—I understand
Wakaranai/wakarimasen—I don’t understand
Yakiniku—Japanese barbecue
Yame—stop
Thanks for reading Project Gemini. If you’d like to learn more about the series, click here.
The Mission League series
The New Recruit, book 1
Chokepoint, mini-mission 1.5
Project Gemini, book 2
Ambushed, mini-mission 2.5
Broken Trust, book 3
Follow this link to add the books to your reading list on Goodreads. And please consider leaving an online book review to help others as they look for books to read.
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Project Gemini (Mission 2 Page 30