Olivia’s Story: Protector of the Realm

By David L. Dahl

The year is 1943. With the ink scarcely dry on her diploma, Olivia leaves Lander, Wyoming, for New York City. In a quick turn of events, she lands a translating job working for a man known only as the Major. Soon she is living an idyllic life, with exciting and rewarding work; Vivian, her roommate, is also her best friend. Then there is an accident, and in a flash, Vivian is gone. At that dark moment, a late-night visitor whisks Olivia to a secret world of fairies, elves, and leprechauns, where the surprise of her life awaits; the queen selects her to be the Protector of the Realm. Now Olivia is flying into Nazi Germany, unarmed save for her dog and a few gadgets. Her mission is simple—rescue the Major, locate an evil Jinn, and stop him from destroying the planet. In this historical fantasy novel, as the world is at war, an evil Jinn conjures an atomic bomb, but with the help of a secret alliance, a young woman sets out to save the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jun 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483451732

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978-1-312-79967-7

Olivia’s Story

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PROTECTOR OF THE REALM

David L. Dahl

Copyright © 2016 David L. Dahl.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5174-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5172-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5173-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016907203

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

David L Dahl

1500 Bedford Road

Washington, IN 47501

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 06/03/2016

Contents

Acknowledgments

Preface

Chapter 1: The Interview

Chapter 2: How It Began

Chapter 3: The Unbelievable Part

Chapter 4: Olivia Learns Her Destiny

Chapter 5: It’s Time to Save Mike

Chapter 6: The Pursuit of the Jinn

Chapter 7: An Audacious Plan

Chapter 8: We Head South

Chapter 9: Night Passage

Chapter 10: The Trial

Chapter 11: Der Schwarzwald

Chapter 12: Viv, It Does Not Look Good

Epilogue: The End of the Beginning

About the Author

For Olivia, Dane, Caroline, Denali, and Elias

Acknowledgments

I must thank my granddaughter Olivia. Without her eager audience, this story would not have emerged.

I also thank my helpful and lovely wife, Elain, for her support and advice; my daughter, Erin, for her editing skills and encouragement; and my son, Nick, and his wife, Katie, for their support. Finally, thanks to all the grands; Olivia, Dane, Caroline, Denali, and Elias. Without your inspiration and helpful advice, this book would not have been possible.

Preface

I n 2009, my son’s residency schedule prevented him from making biweekly trips to pick up his daughter. I eagerly undertook those two-hour commutes, happily accompanied by my five-year-old granddaughter, Olivia. As entertainment, I would retell stories from my youth, books I had read, and movies I had seen. Olivia was always eager to hear new tales.

Eventually, I exhausted my memory of stories. In desperation, I began to make up my own, with Olivia as the heroine. Often she would direct where the plot would go. At times, she would take over and tell a portion of the story.

Soon she was in school, learning to read, and we had developed a fantasy world of good and bad fairies and the fairy protector Olivia. With her new reading skill, I would type these stories and mail them to her a chapter at a time. Our correspondence continued, and in several months, I had produced the first draft of Olivia’s Story. I had also exhausted the fairy storyline.

I then moved to short stories, four of which are in Bugga’s Tales, and one is in Who’s in the Lighthouse. The third, The Last Chore, inspired by Olivia’s summer experience on the Diamond 4 Ranch, is a short chapter book. These are works of fiction for children and young adults.

With these books under my belt, I revisited and finished Olivia’s Story: Protector of the Realm.

I hope you enjoy this work of children’s fiction as much as I enjoyed composing it.

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Mom, wait up. Must you always walk so fast?

Chapter 1

THE INTERVIEW

New York, April 2010

I t was a rainy day in the Big Apple. The rain had fallen for days, overflowing every curb and drain. Through the storm, a yellow cab carefully made its way from a downtown hotel to the Empire State Building.

In the cab, Jessie sighed, shook her head, and looked at her mother sitting next to her. Mom, remember that you agreed to this interview. Jessie was worried about the TV interview ahead. Her mother could be unpredictable.

A wry smile crossed her mom’s face, and she nodded slightly.

The cab careened around the corner and stopped under the awning. The cabbie scurried to open the door but arrived too late. The door opened, and Jessie’s mother roughly pushed his offered hand aside.

I can do it, Sonny. I was getting out of cars and trucks long before you were born.

Now, Mom, play nice, pleaded Jessie. He’s just trying to be polite.

Olivia looked up and smiled. Yes, I know, and I do appreciate your offer, young man. I mean no slight. I just hate to admit I might not be as young as I once was, she joked.

After quickly stepping out of the cab, she straightened her coat and smiled. But you see—I am out. Please help my daughter.

With that, Olivia turned and walked rapidly to the door. Jessie hastily paid the driver and hustled after her mom.

Mom, wait up. Must you always walk so fast? Jessie could not remember a time when her mother walked in a leisurely way. It seemed she was always going somewhere in a hurry.

Although nearly ninety years old, Olivia moved with athletic grace, almost as if she were a young woman in the disguise of an old one. Her gray hair was still thick and wavy, and she did not need glasses. That day she was wearing a stylish dress, in marked contrast to her usual attire of a Western shirt, jeans, and boots.

Jessie shook her head. That’s Mom, she thought. She’s one of a kind.

As they hurried into the lobby, Jessie smiled. She knew she looked a lot like her mother and was proud of it. She was six feet tall with an athletic build, and her dark, wavy hair flowed down around her shoulders. Her hair was a bit damp now, and her mother’s had long since gone gray. Although dressed in a fashionable wool suit, skirt, and high heels, like her mom, Jessie was more comfortable in boots.

In the lobby, two men met them. Jessie immediately recognized Bob, the TV executive who had visited them on Layton’s Mountain. Olivia grinned and rushed over to him. Jessie wasn’t sure, but she thought the man standing next to Bob was Don, Bob’s assistant.

As they exchanged pleasantries, Don pressed the elevator call button. Olivia’s smile faded. She suddenly looked worried. I can’t do this, Jessie. I’m sorry, she said. I just can’t.

Mom, we discussed this, and you agreed. You promised that you would do this interview. You know that Dad would not want you to break your promise.

Okay, okay, Jessie. I’ll go up and do this thing, but you know I don’t like talking about myself! Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Jessie smiled, remembering how many times she had seen those twinkling eyes. She knew Olivia was putting on a performance.

Even at ninety, she’s a handful, she murmured under her breath. I’d better fasten my seat belt. This will be a wild ride.

After stepping into an elevator, they were whisked to the top floor.

Mrs. Layton, have you ever been in this building before? Bob asked, making small talk.

Jessie rolled her eyes and braced for her mother’s response.

To her surprise, Olivia merely sighed. Why yes, Jessie’s father and I toured the Empire State Building during the war. It has not changed much. Oh, and please—call me Olivia. Mrs. Layton was Mike’s grandmother.

Jessie laughed, remembering the stories her father had spun about his grandmother and grandfather. Yep, a real wild ride, she muttered.

What did you say, dear? Olivia asked.

Nothing, Mom, Jessie answered, reminding herself that, regardless of her age, Olivia had extraordinary hearing. Nothing, Mom. Nothing at all.

Bob quickly escorted Jessie and her mother into a makeup room and said, Our makeup artist will get you ready for the interview. If you need a drink, something to eat, the restroom—anything at all—just ask Sarah. He motioned to a smartly dressed redhead standing by the mirror. Sarah, this is Olivia Layton.

Sarah stuck out her hand and shook Olivia’s. Mrs. Layton, I am a huge fan of your husband’s novels. It is a great honor to meet you!

Olivia smiled, sat in the chair, and prepared to let Sarah work her magic. I doubt you can do much with this old face, she said. I will be grateful for any improvement.

Sarah puttered about styling Olivia’s hair and applying makeup, all the time chattering like a magpie. When Sarah began to talk about her latest boyfriend, Olivia closed her eyes and relaxed. Jessie was happy to see her mom at ease for the first time in several days. Olivia had not wanted to do this interview; she didn’t want the publicity. Her story had been secret for more than sixty years. Only she and Jessie’s father, Mike, knew it. They had carefully guarded it.

When Mike first offered to write Olivia’s biography, she had been against it. Nevertheless, he was persistent. He prepared a draft without her knowledge. Then he had her read it. Eventually, Olivia admitted that Mike was an excellent writer. She agreed that from his pen, her story might be interesting. After all, Mike Layton was a national treasure. All of his novels hit the top of the best-seller lists, and two turned into blockbuster movies. Olivia had pondered the idea, but eventually she told Mike that although she liked it, she was against publishing it.

Undaunted, Mike enlisted the help of Jessie and her brother Henry. The three of them met secretly with a shadowy man. No names were used; however, it was clear that her father and the man had been friends for years and that he represented a foreign government.

Jessie smiled as she remembered the meeting. Real cloak-and-dagger stuff, she thought, watching Sarah work on her mom’s hair.

It was a hard sell, but Mike finally had prevailed, and the man promised to discuss the book with his government. Having carefully laid the groundwork, Mike played his trump card: their son.

Smiling, Jessie remembered how Henry had plied his boyish charm on their mom. Henry innocently served blueberry pancakes and somehow persuaded her to agree. He did have his father’s charisma.

So there they were, in soggy, gloomy New York, about to expose Olivia’s life to total strangers.

Sarah finished Olivia’s hair and handed a mirror to her.

How do you like it? she asked.

Yes, you have made an improvement. Excellent job, Sarah. After stepping down from the chair, she handed back the mirror. Now, please excuse me. Can you direct me to the washroom?

Sarah placed the mirror on the counter and pointed down the hall. First door on the right.

Jessie chatted with Bob and Sarah for a few minutes while waiting for Olivia to return. With each passing moment, Bob got edgier, and he frequently looked at his watch. Jessie knew that they were on a tight schedule, so she offered to get her mom. Bob seemed much relieved and pointed down the hall.

Please tell her to hurry. We’re ready to begin, Bob pleaded as she hustled toward the restroom.

That was where Jessie found Olivia. She was laughing with the washroom attendant. Jessie paused in the doorway. Something about the attendant seemed peculiar. Her straight, light-brown hair hung just above the shoulder; she appeared to be in her midthirties and was a little shorter than Olivia, with attractive features.

She seems normal, but that dress. Jessie thought. There is something familiar about that dress. It was just a maid’s uniform, with Vivian II embroidered on one side, but the color was a unique shade of blue. Not able to put her finger on what troubled her, Jessie interrupted them by gently pulling her mother’s arm. Come on, Mom. We don’t want to keep them waiting.

As they left the room, Jessie racked her brain, trying to remember why the attendant looked so familiar. As they rushed down the hall, Jessie glanced back and noticed a bright-blue light glowing from under the closing door. That’s odd, she thought. She shook her head and dismissed it from her mind; she needed to get Olivia into the studio.

Don, a short, fat man with thin, dark hair, met Olivia in the hall. Follow me, Mrs. Layton, he muttered while walking down the corridor. Jessie tagged along into the studio; Olivia had insisted that Jessie had to be in the studio, just off camera.

Don’s ill-fitting business suit hung loosely around his shoulders. From behind, he looked like a boy playing dress-up in his father’s clothes. Jessie stifled a snicker as he motioned to a high canvas chair.

Please sit here. Our reporter will be here soon. He will cover the details of the interview. I am looking forward to hearing your story. He turned abruptly and walked away.

Jessie surveyed her surroundings. The studio was large with high ceilings. The lights were subdued except over a small platform in one corner. It was obviously the stage, with two comfortable chairs and a small table. Technicians were busy adjusting the lights and microphones. The lights were the brightest she could remember. People scurried everywhere. Cinematographers, microphone operators, and assistants with clipboards barked orders that no one seemed to carry out.

As Olivia headed toward her seat, she motioned for Jessie to come over, and she did. Jess, this seems an awful waste of these folks’ time. Listen, I don’t trust that Don fellow. During the interview, keep an eye on him. When we take a break, you can tell me what he’s up to.

Jessie was about to protest, but the look