The Shortest Distance

By Ramsey Austin-Spencer

Every story has a beginning. George and Jessica’s started long before the CIA.
The child of a CIA agent exposed Jessica to the cruel world of espionage early. George’s father’s rigid military existence created a defiance that followed him. Together they endured brutal training, experienced their first kills, fell in love, were betrayed and through it all remained steadfastly there for each other.
The CIA went looking for them because they were raw talent and figured they could mold them into what they wanted. Unfortunately for the CIA, George and Jessica lived their lives with a different set of values and a fierce dedication to each other. In the end, they took what the CIA offered and then broke the mold to become the team the CIA would spend the next decade fighting against.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ramsey Austin-Spencer
• Release date: Aug 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005446734

Ramsey Austin-Spencer

Ramsey was born in Salt Lake City, UT, raised in Salt Lake City, UT, married and had a family in Salt Lake City, UT and will more than likely die there as well. Don't feel too bad; Ramsey also enjoys traveling to places other than Salt Lake City, UT. In a motor home with a Jeep towing behind it she tours the United States just for fun. An accounting technician by profession (odd, I know), she does payroll for one of the municipal entities in (you guessed it), the Salt Lake City, UT area. Writing is the passion that has driven her since she could pick up a pencil. Receiving her Associate's Degree from Salt Lake Community College, and her Bachelor's Degree from WGU, she continues to work on perfecting her trade by continuing to take classes. Always looking for new educational experiences, she is a certified diver, studied sign language and French, has been in local plays and even went through a Citizen's Police Academy. Two sons and a wonderful husband are the reason you have a chance to read the work Ramsey has written. They encourage, irritate and force her to do better. Hope you enjoy.

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THE SHORTEST DISTANCE

By: Ramsey Austin-Spencer

2020 Copyright by Ramsey Austin-Spencer

Smashwords Edition

CHAPTER ONE

Gunfire tore apart the glass figurines on the fireplace mantel. It shredded them into tiny shards that splattered across Jessica with one of the pieces drawing blood on her forearm. The eight-year-old girl cowered and covered her ears, but she kept her eyes open, watching as her father returned fire on the two men who burst through the front door of their home.

They kept a gun in the desk Jessica crouched next to, but moving from this spot to try and retrieve it seemed too scary. She was afraid; afraid of being struck, afraid of doing nothing, afraid that she should be doing something, but not knowing what it should be. Glancing over at where the bullets tore apart the sofa in front of the desk, the lamp on top of the desk and the desk itself told her she’d be ripped apart if she tried to go for the weapon. Turning back to where her father stood defending them against the men who attacked so quickly and so violently that it terrified her, she awed at the determination pressed into his face. She didn’t see anger; he simply focused on a task and he would accomplish it no matter what. It was a look she witnessed on him many times, but never in a situation like this, and right now it was so clear to her, she believed he always carried that look.

Son-of-a-bitch, her father barked out and she stared over to where he pulled back behind the china hutch looking at a bullet hole in his arm before he loaded another clip into his weapon and leaned around the large cabinet to start shooting again.

Anger and fear motivated her and she lunged at the desk, pulling open the drawer, yanking it all the way out and onto the floor, which caught her by surprise. She knew how to use a gun and she shouldn’t be sitting here watching her father take on the two men alone; she should be doing what he taught her to do and help him.

Quickly checking the gun to make sure it was loaded, the clip was full and the safety off, she jumped up, screaming and firing wildly at the men. Her vision narrowed to nearly black, but she could see them staring at her in stunned amazement. The man furthest from her twisted to his side as a bullet slammed into the right side of his chest. At first, she thought she killed him and stopped shooting to watch as he went to his knees and then attempted to recover and re-level his weapon, but as the second man went straight back with a shot to his head she knew her father took them out and that her shots didn’t hit a thing.

Coming out from behind the hutch, David Sky went over to the man still moving to try and use his weapon. Standing over him, her father shot him at point-blank range right through the forehead. When he finished he turned on Jessica and now she could see the anger on his face. It was anger directed at her. She made a mistake and she knew it, but she couldn’t quite figure out which part of what she did ended being the error. Putting the gun on the back of the sofa she took a step back.

Don’t you ever act out of emotion like that again without thinking, he told her in a low and controlled voice as he picked up the gun and walked past her.

Jessica wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t. The carnage around her struck her as being unimaginable and her father’s irritation at her made it unbearable. Her grandmother now stood in the doorway that went back into the kitchen, gazing down at her without any expression on her face. It was as though nothing terrible just happened, and again, the vision of what her grandmother looked like right now came to her so clear that Jessica would always envision the woman this way.

We need to move, her father instructed as passed by her grandmother.

Elena Burov stood for a moment longer looking at Jessica before she followed the tall, serious man into the kitchen.

Jessica moved to the doorway, listening with feared anticipation. Her father and grandmother weren’t close. Elena was her grandmother on her mother’s side, but that was all she knew about the woman and she knew even less about her mother. It was as though Elena and David committed to a mutually acceptable arrangement which neither one of them particularly liked, but understood to be necessary. No one said, but Jessica believed they came to this arrangement because of her; even if she didn’t know exactly why or to what end.

You can’t walk away from this, Elena said evenly in a thick Russian accent that Jessica only associated with her grandmother. No one ever raised their voice in this house. Every pleasant and unpleasant thing was done in the same direct manner, with the same serious intensity and with the same calm pitch in their voice.

David stopped, not turning to face the older woman. And what is it you think I should be doing?

Teach her.

Now he turned with the two guns he held hanging down by his side. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at the older woman with a dark gaze that scared Jessica, but Elena didn’t act worried or threatened by it. Jessica knew her to be as strong and severe as her father and she could only imagine that her mother had been the same. In a way it made her feel slightly defective that she didn’t have that same severe nature about her. Jessica wanted to laugh and cry and feel passionate about something; anything.

You instructed her how to shoot, but you never taught her why and when to properly use the weapon, Elena continued. There’s more she needs to know than how to pull the trigger and now that she’s proven she’s willing to pick up a gun you need to instill those skills in her. This won’t be the last time this happens.

The words made Jessica’s chest constrict painfully. She wasn’t sure she could go through something like this again. She wanted to run forward and beg her father to make her a promise that she’d never have to worry about men shooting at them again, but she knew what her grandmother just said was the truth. This would happen again and Jessica needed to be ready whether she wanted to or not.

Her father softened slightly and gave the woman a curt nod before he left the room. Elena didn’t look at Jessica, but like so many other times in her life, her grandmother appeared to have some kind of mystic power of divining where the small girl was at all times. Come, she instructed and Jessica moved slowly into the room. She did something wrong and the conversation she overheard provided an inkling of what that was, but it still left her a little confused as to what she should have done. She wanted to apologize for doing something wrong, but that would be as unacceptable as whatever she actually did wrong, so she stayed silent.

Go pack your things, Elena instructed. She didn’t have to say anything else; Jessica trained on how to pack to leave in a hurry and she implemented it numerous times. You kept the essentials ready to go and you left everything else behind. Nothing here held any sentimental value for her and the next house they would move into wouldn’t have anything either.

Jessica went upstairs, put her clothes, her toothbrush, her shoes, and some of her hair accessories into a bag and after grabbing her pillow she came back downstairs and waited to see where they would end up this time. Her father and her grandmother already waited at the back door with their own sacks. Jessica apparently needed to get faster at her exit preparation.

Her father didn’t speak to her and that upset her. He had no right, she thought angrily as she stomped out to the car. She didn’t do anything over the top or severe to show her anger because her family didn’t believe in such emotional defiance, so she simply plopped her feet down a little harder than usual because she needed to do something to get her frustrations out. She kept her head hung down and grunted at the directives her father gave her as she got in the car and sat with her arms folded. Eventually, this would irritate him and he’d discipline her for taking such an unproductive approach to her problem, but for the moment she wanted to sulk.

To say he would discipline her was a misnomer. Her father would sit her down, pace slowly across in front of her for a moment before he would stop and clasp his hands behind him to stare down at her before he told her exactly what she did wrong and what he believed she should be doing or what she should have done. He would then give her something to do that would rectify the problem. It could be sitting in a crawl space in the basement for three hours; it could be running ten miles or even cleaning all his weapons. Whatever it was, she’d do it without complaint. Her father didn’t scare her, but their relationship was one of strict order. He ordered and she complied. She didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t do what he said, but she didn’t want to find out, so she never went against him. Watching him kill those men made her realize how skilled and deadly her father truly was, but even that didn’t frighten her. He would never use those skills on her, but she believed what he wanted to teach her be worse. He wanted to turn her into him and even though she understood she needed the abilities he attempted to teach her because of the life they lived; she didn’t want to be him.

They drove all the remainder of the day and eventually Jessica fell asleep. When she woke up they were parked in a secluded area surrounded by trees. Her grandmother remained in the car with her reading a book, but her father was gone. His absence didn’t alarm her. Her father disappeared all the time.

Where are we? she asked pulling herself up over the seat to sit behind the wheel of the car. Elena looked at her from over her book.

We’re in Pila, she said.

Jessica nodded. She’d never been there, but she knew every country, every city, and every town within a two-hundred mile radius of where they resided at any given time. The longest they stayed anywhere was a year and a half and everywhere they went Elena made sure Jessica studied the area, knew the terrain, the culture, the history, and the names of the surrounding areas. That wasn’t all Elena taught her. The older woman homeschooled her and taught her to speak, read and write in three different languages; Russian, English, and Spanish. She could also understand and speak Arabic, French, German, and some Mandarin, but she didn’t have the proficiency that she had in the original three and could only use them to barely get by in countries where those languages were spoken. Jessica was taught mathematics and could calculate complex math equations, received extensive lessons on music, art, and of course, anatomy, chemistry, and astrology. In fact, almost all of Jessica’s days were spent studying, and when she didn’t study she would run or box or do some other type of workout routine. She didn’t see anything wrong with that. It occupied her time and it was just the way her life was. She didn’t know any different, so it never occurred to her that it might be odd even though she understood it to be different from the way other kids spent their day.

Are we going to be staying here?

Elena nodded and put her book down. Not for long. This will be temporary until we’re able to get relocation orders.

Jessica nodded. She knew what that meant. They’d be here for less than a month, moving several times from one cheap and smelly motel room to another until they got plane tickets and went somewhere else. Leaning back against the door, she looked over at her grandmother. He’s mad at me, she said.

Elena once again looked over the top of the pages telling Jessica she broached a subject that moved into an area that neither her father nor her grandmother ever allowed her to go, which was an emotional response.

He’s concerned, the elder woman offered. I don’t think we need to remind you that we lead very different lives from others and mistakes in our world are met with serious consequences.

Jessica nodded. She did understand even though this was the first time she experienced a gunfight. It was like it was always out there waiting and now that it happened, it kind of clarified her life. This is what her father and grandmother were always training and waiting for.

Is that how my mother died? she asked. She glanced over at the woman, measuring her response. Jessica upset her grandmother with the question even though it was hard to tell because Elena, just like her father, kept her emotions very controlled. No one else would have noticed, but the one thing Jessica excelled at was reading people. She enjoyed it and practiced it often when she went out in the marketplace or sat at bus stations or wherever she could watch people. It allowed her to pretend she actually experienced all the emotions she witnessed, even if she couldn’t ever show them. She didn’t really understand why the people she observed were feeling and acting as they did, which would be the next step in honing her skills. When she could decipher what behavior their emotions could predict, she’d have a real talent. Right now, however, she understood why her question caused such a reaction in Elena; it had been her daughter after all, but Jessica got the feeling there was something more to it than that and she wanted to probe a little further.

You know we don’t talk about such things.

I’ve been told we don’t talk about such things, but I’ve also been taught that information is power, she responded and Elena’s lips curled slightly in amusement; that gave Jessica a warm sense of pride.

One day you will have the power, but for now your question must remain unanswered, she said, pulling the book up to hide her face.

The next few weeks were spent just as she predicted, moving from place to place, but she also spent a lot more time in training. Her father took her out shooting, but this time he focused on more than just hitting targets. He forced her to shelter behind cover, find openings and evaluate the time it would take to move from one location to another. Her father fired over her head as she ran from tree to tree. He slipped around behind her as she hid in alleyways and he had her practice finding her target, firing, and then ducking for cover.

The airplane tickets came in and they ended up in Vaasa, Finland, but after a year they packed up again. Landing in San Miguelito, Panama, Jessica immediately got the impression she wouldn’t enjoy it here. The place gave her the sensation of being too crowded and they moved into an apartment crammed into a tenement-type area where everyone could overhear anything that happened around you. Of course, the Sky’s, as always, remained very quiet and discreet. Her father took off a lot, as usual, but everything in her world changed when her grandmother broke her hip.

After only one week in the new location, Jessica and Elena headed out to go to the market. Every here remained new and her grandmother tripped on the top stair outside of their apartment, which held a small lip that Jessica herself stumbled against the first time she left the apartment. Elena tumbled clear to the bottom of the steps as Jessica stood staring after her. Rushing down to her, Jessica convinced herself she’d find the woman dead because Elena, true to form, didn’t even cry out. Staying with the woman who Jessica believed to be in excruciating pain, she stayed silent while the ambulance came and the neighbors all stood staring in wonder. In the days the followed, Elena never broke down, never cried, and never indicated that something like this happening to her upset her at all. This ended up being the catalyst for Jessica getting to go to school for the first time in her life.

At first, it excited her, but after just the first week Jessica realized what a complete waste of her time this would be. Everything they taught constituted old information for her and rather than being educated, she ended up being tested on her patience because her day consisted of setting bored at her desk for hours. Making friends was something else she never experienced and those first weeks, which she later found out were the most crucial in forging relationships, had been lost to silence and uncertainty. She spoke fluent Spanish, but since she rarely spoke and looked more European, she overheard the other children talking about how they doubted she could understand them. She became an oddity, which didn’t surprise her since she already saw herself as anything but normal, but she found being labeled that way came with additional problems.

School days were spent sitting at her desk, uninterested in the lessons, wandering the hallways, and sitting alone in the cafeteria during lunch. None of that really bothered her; it mostly disappointed her because she dreamed of going to public school and now that she was here it didn’t live up to the hype she created in her mind.

With nothing else to do, she practiced the skills she spent the previous years of her life learning. She watched. She watched the people around her, reading their lips, interpreting their body language, tracking what they carried with them and the things they kept hidden on them. She categorized the smells that clung to them that they didn’t realize told people what type of person they were and what they’d been doing. She honed her skills of getting into people’s private information, breaking into their cars, their desks, and their lockers without being seen, and without anyone finding out that someone rifled through their personal effects.

It kept her occupied and interested her as she managed to assess that Ms. Ruiz engaged in an affair with Mr. Lopez and that Mr. Larsen was a pervert who hoarded pornography and frequented strip clubs. The lunch lady appeared to be dyslexic, the custodian worked to raise four kids on his own after his wife left him and she was pretty sure at least two of them weren’t his. Without any real proof, she could only assume these things, obviously, but she was pretty confident they were accurate.

As far as the students, she found them less interesting. There were those that did drugs, stole their parent’s liquor, or cheated on exams. Even the school bully had a mundane story, but she wanted to make sure she knew everything she could know about him. Rafael Molina was the third child of five. His father worked in a warehouse where he lost paperwork and re-routed merchandise for a Panama crime syndicate. She recognized him as a minor player, but at home he was unkind to both his children and his wife, demanding that the boys be tough and the girls submissive. Using his strength and violence he attempted to force the respect he believed he deserved from his family. Rafael did his best to be a man by his father’s way of thinking. He did this by being an ass to everyone. He would beat kids up, steal their money or school supplies and pull pranks that both hurt people and damaged property. She disliked him.

Rafael mostly ignored her, but it wouldn’t last. She remained quiet, but being a foreigner made Rafael and the others at the school see her as strange. That presented a perfect target for a bully and even though she didn’t have a lot of experience in this area, she understood how victims were selected. She could hear the other students talking about her. When she passed by they would start whispering, but they weren’t very discreet and it disgusted her that they came across so obvious. Of course, it didn’t matter because their opinions really meant nothing to her since they ended up being wrong on almost every account and also because she probably wouldn’t be here much longer. She’d already been here longer than a lot of the other places they lived.

Rafael started taking notice of her on the day she happened to be in the hallway as he smashed himself into a younger student, pressing him against the wall. He acted like he didn’t know the boy was there as he talked to his friends. He leaned back against the wall as though relaxing against it while he moved his arms during his conversation in an over-animated attempt to grind against the smaller child. Jessica watched the larger boy hurt the smaller child for pleasure. Coming to her feet from where she sat in the hallway reading, she prepared to go remove the struggling boy from his tormentor, but before she got to them Rafael finally leaned forward and the boy dropped to the ground.

Laughing, the group started off down the hall while Jessica came over, picked the frail boy up, retrieved his books, and got him focused on breathing since he sat gasping in his panic, which would only cause him more problems. Rafael glanced back and she caught his eye for just a second and his look told her the days of him ignoring her were over.

What do you think you’re doing? he asked, coming back over. She ignored him while she got the other child away from the area to avoid any further harassment.

Pushing past him, she went to her class, but she understood avoiding him now wouldn’t end this. He would want her to pay for helping his victim because that was the way bullies operated. It actually pleased her because she could handle Rafael and if his attention focused on her, it would mean he would be spending less time bothering the younger and more defenseless of the students.

It surprised her how long it took to escalate. Rafael started by coming over to her at the start of school the next day before she could get into the building. Do you think we want you here? You’re a freak. He blocked her from going into the door with his arm. She looked at the arm thinking how easy it would be to break it. He might be a thick kid, but with the right pressure, anything was possible. She pushed the idea from her mind because it made her into her father and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to hurt people.

Excuse me, she said.

Why, did you fart? The dense boy laughed hysterically. Hey, guys, he called to his friends that stood around him. She farted.

The boys laughed just as hard as Rafael and to Jessica, they looked like a pack of hyenas; just as stupid and just as dangerous.

His comment didn’t strike her as being clever and she turned around and went to a different door. Not giving him a reaction seemed to stimulate him as much as if she acted devastated by his behavior. As she walked down the hall, Rafael would try to rush up behind her in order to knock the books out of her arms. She witnessed him do it to many students, but Jessica wasn’t one to let someone sneak up on her; her father taught her better than that. When he came at her, she would slip into a room, turn and walk back the other way, sidestep him as he lunged her way or if he set something obvious up to ambush her she simply took another route. It took care of the situation, but again, it only inspired him to try harder.

At first, she enjoyed being able to use her training to avoid the boy, but she found herself getting bored with it. She started letting him get a little closer before she circumvented his efforts to get at her. That’s what she did when she pushed it too far.

Taking her lunch tray over to the garbage cans, she noticed Rafael coming at her from the reflection in the stainless steel of the lunch counter in front of her. She waited until the very last second when she quickly spun out of his way causing the lumbering, pock-faced boy to trip into the row of tables, knocking the trays of food off onto the floor.

Embarrassing him was really the beginning of the war; that was when he brought in reinforcements. Up until now his friends only watched and encouraged Rafael, but now they would stand at one door while Rafael stood at another in order to try and get her. They began throwing things at her in class when the teacher looked away and yelled foul-mouthed comments at her from the schoolyard as she left the building. Even with the extra boys she still managed to slip in around them, create small diversions to get where she wanted to go, and avoid the objects being hurled at her. Unfortunately, her behavior continued to encourage them making it so they wouldn’t stop, but she didn’t seem capable of taking the scenario to its completion where something bad would happen to either her or to Rafael.

In all this time she never allowed herself to be cornered, so she wondered if she wanted this; if she wanted to just finish this and be done with it. When she saw Robert and Jose circling the room she could tell they worked a plan. As she took her tray to find a vacant seat at the long lunch tables she went down the side of the room rather than down the middle. Robert came at her from the front, Jose from the back and Rafael rushed up over the top of a table, leaping the people and the trays sitting there in order to come face to face with her. Slapping her tray out of her hand, she watched as the contents splattered onto the floor, across her legs, and over her shoes. The entire lunchroom went silent as she stood looking down at the red sauce from the meatloaf, which now splattered across her like the bloody remains of a victim slaughtered at her feet. The incident made her angry, but it didn’t rise to the level of all-out rage. She expected this and even though her face heated up in irritation, she believed the smug look on Rafael’s face made her react. He considered himself victorious and anticipated her crying, but he wouldn’t get what he wanted. Jessica wanted him to pay and she knew how.

Raising her leg, she wrapped it around his back, using it to twist him around and bring him to the floor face down. Sitting on top of him, she pulled his arm up behind him and held it while he cried out in pain. Looking at the other two boys for a moment, a part of her understood she should stop right here and get up and walk away, but the adrenaline pumped through her, spurring her on, so she snapped his arm. The bone protruded out of skin and blood began soaking the floor of the lunchroom, joining in with the meatloaf sauce. One kid vomited and people began to scream, which still didn’t rise above the horrible cry that Rafael let out.

Getting up, Jessica left, knowing what she did was terrible, knowing that she did something she swore she’d never do, even as she learned how to do it. Now she found out she was capable of doing the things her father did and it both scared and disgusted her, but it also excited her in a way.

Rafael deserved it, she thought as she stood by her locker trying to calm her emotions, which was the one thing she didn’t learn how to do yet. Rafael was a bully who knocked down smaller, younger kids all the time. She watched him blacken eyes and even split open lips and steal from children who couldn’t afford it and now he received a taste of what it felt like when someone stronger than you made you the victim. She hated him and wondered if she felt bad for what she did or if she felt justified. It confused her because she didn’t have an answer yet.

Immediately the principal came at her and brought her into his office. No one asked what happened. They all acted afraid to even talk to her, but they called her house, and even though her father wasn’t home, him finding out would be the worst part of what happened.

The police came and took a statement from dozens of kids, but no one apparently offered them anything that inspired them to take her away. She was grateful for that. Her grandmother informed them that she was bedridden and asked that they just send her home since they wouldn’t allow her to return to class. You must not return for two weeks, the red-faced principal told her as though the punishment he handed down would traumatize her. It didn’t. They never offered her anything of value in the nine months since she started here and she assumed she wouldn’t be coming back.

When she got home her father waited inside the apartment for her and her insides began to melt. He stood at the center of the room and didn’t speak or move as she walked in. Slowly she made her way over to the couch and sat down. Pulling a chair over in front of her he sat on the edge of it, leaning forward onto his legs, and nodded once at her. What happened? he asked in his usual, calm, unperturbed voice.

Jessica wanted to remain emotionless and calm herself, but inside she began getting worked up and it wouldn’t be long before everything spilled out. He’s a bully, she burst out folding her arms defiantly across her chest. He’s been calling me mean names and he’s always knocking people down and beating people up. He’s mean. He came up and knocked my food tray out of my hand and got stuff on my shoes. She pointed to her feet to offer him proof.

David nodded slowly and stood up, removing the chair to pace one long line in front of her. At the end, he stopped with his back to her. And how did you respond?

Her fire immediately left her. I broke his arm, she said softly.

Again David nodded once and turned to look at her. So you couldn’t find any other way to respond to such an egregious act, such as name-calling and having food spilled on your shoe, other than to break his arm?

I…

You disappoint me, he offered moving back over to her to stand with his hands behind his back as though at parade rest. I thought you could withstand much more than some juvenile bullying.

He hurt other kids too, she offered, unable to look at him. He knocked them down and punched them. Her voice was barely audible.

Are you telling me you did this for the other children?

She didn’t answer. She understood what he attempted to get at and she hated that he saw through her motives. She did this for herself. It was revenge; pure and simple.

Did you give consideration to the consequences of your actions? he asked her evenly. You’ll have to bear the responsibility for what you’ve done by yourself. You’ve escalated this situation rather than solve it and I hope you’re prepared to take on that burden.

Turning, he left her there alone on the couch. Her grandmother stood in her room with her walker watching the encounter. Her hip had nearly completely healed and she could now move around the apartment, but she didn’t come out of her room very often.

Jessica noticed the woman giving her the same evaluating look she always did. Her father was one thing, but Elena was another entirely. She always acted displeased with Jessica and it annoyed her.

Getting up, Jessica went to her own room. Now her anger flared and she blamed Rafael for all her troubles. He did this to her and what she did to him ended up being justice and she’d do it again, she told herself hotly. He got what he deserved and the school and police didn’t do anything to her other than to suspend her, so she didn’t exactly see what her father considered consequences for her actions. She actually enjoyed the consequences; so there, she thought as she plopped down on her bed to pout. A week later when she went to the market to pick up food for dinner she found out what her father truly meant.

Three large teenage boys rushed at her. She recognized two of them as Rafael’s brothers since she scoped out the entire family when the boy started coming at her. The third was someone she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. These older boys would be worse than Rafael.

She saw them coming and dropped everything as she began running for the road that would take her back to her apartment. She’d have made it, except two other boys jumped out from behind a line of parked cars and blocked her escape. When the others caught up with her they pulled her to the ground, their fists pummeling her and their feet kicking at her. She fought back as best she could, but five against one would leave her on the losing end of this no matter what she did. She caught the foot of one of the boys and toppled him. Her fist sliced up into the groin of another, but she didn’t cause enough damage to save her, and every time a fist caught her in the face, back, arm, or stomach, she lost ground. Then one of the boys pulled out a switchblade.

She heard the sound of it, knowing this would be painful. She wished she could change what happened, but then she heard another familiar sound. It was a gun with a silencer on it and just as she heard it, one of the boys cried out before dropping to the ground. A bullet hit him in the leg and she understood it to be a well-planned out shot from a small-caliber weapon. The shooter didn’t want to kill and from the location of the shot in the fleshy part of the leg, he didn’t even want to maim the boy. He wanted them to get off his daughter and she wanted to cry. She brought this on herself and her father knew she couldn’t handle it. He was right.

Two more shots sent two additional boys scrambling as a bullet grazed one boy across the buttocks and another received the same wound as the first boy. Let’s get out of here, one of them shouted and they all hobbled away, trying to help each other get out of the line of fire.

Slowly getting up, Jessica looked around, but she wouldn’t see her father. He was a professional. Wiping the blood off her mouth she made her way back to the apartment. Her bag was packed and sitting just inside the front door. Elena and her father stayed silent as they all climbed into a cab that took them to the airport. It would be another six months of moving around before they finally ended up in Akron, Ohio.

CHAPTER TWO

Jessica turned twelve two days after they arrived in Akron. This would only be the second time she lived in the United States; when she was five they lived in Miami for eight months, but to Jessica, it made little difference because her life revolved around her father and Elena and after what happened in Panama she understood she’d never get to go to public school again. It didn’t matter because she didn’t want to. She obviously wasn’t suited for that, but she still found it difficult to resolve herself to once again being a prisoner of her family.

Of course, they didn’t really keep her a prisoner. She got to go out all she wanted with what she assumed were the same restrictions as other kids her age. She played at nearby parks and went shopping and even sat out and talked to the neighbors if they happened to be living in a place where that was convenient. Elena encouraged her to get involved in order to get a sense of the different cultures she lived in, but there was always the caveat that she could listen all she wanted, but she could never tell anyone about her life and her family.

Being in the United States struck her as being different than a lot of other places she lived. Everywhere you went you found different customs, different languages, and differences in the way people responded to you when you interacted with them. Ohio carried a very pronounced culture that Jessica found interesting. It presented itself as kind of laid back and quaint while trying to keep up with the rest of the world.

The house they moved into was a massive nine-bedroom estate that looked out across a large private lake. This time they wouldn’t be living alone, which was a first for them. The prospect scared and excited Jessica because of the possibility that this might offer something more interesting than just being with her father and grandmother all the time. Four other men currently lived in the house and Jessica quickly understood they were just like her father since they would disappear for days or weeks or sometimes months at a time. Sometimes one would leave and not come back and someone else would take their place. Still, she found the other men more what she would describe as pleasant, than her father. They actually smiled at her occasionally and she finally got the chance to smile back at someone. She found it so gloriously relieving to have someone else to talk to other than Elena and her father, who rarely ever spoke just for conversational purposes, that she would make idle comments to the men just to hear them respond.

Unfortunately, due to her seclusion and being moved around so much, getting to know people wasn’t something she excelled at. Plus experience told her she didn’t want to get too familiar with people. This time, however, the men they shared the house with understood her life and lived just like her and her family lived, which meant they remained private and kept to themselves. Close personal relationships became either dangerous or pointless, but as Jessica spent more time in the house with the men who came and went, she realized she actually started to get to know them; and she like them. She sensed their reluctance to get attached to anyone, especially a child, so she didn’t force anything, but over time she became the person they spent more time with than anyone else in the house because she was always here.

Sentimentality could be dangerous, so she stayed cool and casual around the men and the guards and maids and cooks who worked in the house. Still, she smiled and nodded when she encountered them and they would smile and nod back and then they started asking how she was doing and what she was working on. These became the closest relationships she ever had and she found herself coveting them.

To keep occupied when she wasn’t studying she helped them while they trained by laying out mats and cleaning up the chemicals they used and being a body during a scenario sequence. She acted as a timer for their exercises and someone who brought them in water when they finished. After a while, they started including her in things and when she asked questions they helped her learn about whatever they worked on. From them, she learned how to make a bomb out of things around the house, how to break any bone in the human body you might want to break, and how to dress various kinds of wounds as well as counter a variety of poisons.