Jeremiah had just walked into the house when he heard a gunshot coming from the direction of the kids bedrooms.
Aaliyah! he thought suddenly as he sprinted down the hall. Jasmine and Adriana met him at Aaliyah's closed bedroom door.
"Dad?" Adriana said, "What's going on?"
"I just walked in the door Adriana," Jeremiah said, "I don't know. I heard a gunshot coming from down here."
"It was in Aaliyah's room, Jere," Jasmine said.
As Jeremiah turned the knob on his youngest daughter's bedroom door, he thought, please God, I don't want to have to bury my little girl.
As soon as he opened the door, he got the shock of his life.
Aaliyah, standing in the middle of her bedroom, pointing a .357 Magnum at a man on the floor who had clearly been shot.
"What the hell happened here, Aaliyah Antonia?" Jeremiah asked in disbelief. The voice he heard was not what he was expecting to come from the eight year old's mouth.
"He said that you were going to have one less daughter to worry about," Aaliyah said; "That he was going to take me and walk out of the house with me and you'd never know."
My God, Jeremiah thought, she sounds just like...Julia? What the fuck...
Jasmine came in and checked the man laying on her daughter's bedroom floor and had trouble finding any vital signs. His eyes were wide with disbelief and his mouth was slack. He wasn't blinking.
Jasmine took Jeremiah out to the hall, where by this time, the other two children were gathered.
"What's going on?" asked Adam.
Jeremiah said, "There was an intruder in Aaliyah's bedroom. You and Arielle go to the living room with Adriana and wait for us, understood?"
"Yes, sir," they said together. They knew that when their father used that tone of voice, he meant business. When they had left the area and were out of earshot, Jasmine said,
"Jere, our baby girl just killed that man in her bedroom. I think that she may have knicked his aorta, but an autopsy would be able to tell more."
Jeremiah sighed. Aaliyah had tasted blood, and that just boggled his mind. His baby girl just killed someone in self defense.
"Jere, you okay, baby?" asked Jasmine.
"Yeah..."
Jeremiah went back into Aaliyah's bedroom, where she still had the gun trained on the man.
"Aaliyah," he said gently, "you can put the gun down. He's not going to be able to hurt us anymore. He's dead."
What Jeremiah heard next would shock him.
"Good," Aaliyah said. She kicked the man in the ribs as hard as she could and continued, "Have a nice trip to hell, asshole."
Pollard was spending Thanksgiving with one of the many whores he paid to keep him satisfied. The girl he was with that morning was still sleeping.
Clayton Pollard did not feel affection towards anyone. Violent fantasies are what got him off. He didn't have time for love or affection or any of that crap that weaker men enjoyed. He was an assassin, paid to do an assassin's job.
The girl he fucked all night was young, about nineteen or twenty years old. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes and bore a passing resemblance to Sandrina San Marco. And that was Pollard's current fantasy: to capture the San Marco girl and make her beg for him. If she didn't, he'd take her anyway. The girl in his bed liked what was called rape-sex, so Pollard was able to get off on his twisted little fantasy. He even insisted on calling the girl "Sandy", though that wasn't her name.
He paid her to let him do these things to her. She knew her job and she knew what this particular client liked.
As the girl slept, Pollard was planning the demises of both Sandrina's father and younger brother. She'd be useless, he thought, so poor Kate San Marco will just have to bury her husband and her son; then tend to her damaged daughter.
As usual, Pollard severely underestimated his prey. He didn't even take into account that there could be someone other than Nikolai San Marco or his son Peter who could take him out. Pollard, in his ignorance, thought the objective could be won easily. He forgot, briefly, just who he was dealing with.
But now, he wanted another go at the girl, and felt himself stiffen as he thought of the terrible things he would do to Sandrina San Marco when he had her where he wanted her; in his bed, doing his bidding. He'd make sure she'd have no say in the matter.
He lay the sleeping hooker on her back and climbed astride her. "Come on 'Sandy', wake up, bitch!" he growled at her as he forced his way inside her. The girl awakened, but was still groggy, and tried to fight Pollard off.
"Yes, yes!" he cried as she fought him, "I'm going to take you the way I want to. You have no say. You are mine!"
He pinned her arms above her head as he drilled into her again and again. She was barely awake, but Pollard didn't care. "You're my bitch, 'Sandy'," he said cruelly; "You do what I want! You're nothing but a whore, a cunt, a tease."
When he was done with her, he pushed her off the bed and ordered her to get dressed. "Your money is on the table by the door," Pollard said to her. "Breathe one word of this to anyone, and I will hunt you down."
The girl, once dressed, walked unsteadily to the door, picked up her money and left. When she got to the street, she hailed a cab.
"Where to, sweetheart?" the cabbie asked.
"Police station," the girl said. "Please don't tell anyone I was in your cab."
"Man rough you up?"
"He raped me."
The cabbie dropped the girl off at the nearest police station. He didn't even want her money for the fare. She just looked at him, then turned and walked towards the entrance.
As soon as she was out of sight, the cabbie made a call.
"Tell the Major that our objective is to stop Clayton Pollard," he said; "He has sick plans for the Major's daughter. I just dropped off a prostitute at the police station who looked enough like her that even I was fooled for a moment."
After getting his answer, he drove off, his job for the day had been completed.
Nik heard his phone buzz and got annoyed.
It was his "work" phone. That could only mean one thing. Bad news.
KateLynn was still asleep in his arms and he really didn't want to answer the phone. He had plans for Thanksgiving that didn't include calls from Darren Dixon.
Nik picked up the phone from the nightstand and saw a familiar code. It wasn't Darren Dixon, but he knew he should answer it anyway.
"San Marco. Speak to me."
"Nik, it's Jere. I hope to hell you're sitting down."
"Brother, I'm laying in bed with my best girl," Nik said, "so this better be damn good."
"There was an intruder in my house this morning," Jeremiah said; "He's dead now."
"And...?" asked Nik.
"This is the part you need to be sitting for," said Jeremiah; "Aaliyah shot him."
Nik sat up in bed, and in doing so, woke his wife. She turned over and went back to sleep.
"Say that one more time, Jere?" he asked.
"My eight year old daughter killed a man who was in her bedroom this morning," Jeremiah said.
"Holy shit," Nik said; "How is she?"
"She's fine, it's her mother and I who are a bit freaked out."
"I'm coming over there," Nik said; "Has the police arrived or what?"
"We've called them, but they're taking their sweet ass time in getting here," Jeremiah said; "What part of 'there's a dead body in my eight year old daughter's bedroom' didn't they understand, Nik?"
Nik got out of bed and started dressing. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Jere."
"I'll be waiting."
Nik closed out the call. Holy mother of God! Aaliyah killed someone? Good thing we started training her and Rachel when we did, or this might have had a different outcome.
"Nikky?" asked KateLynn sleepily; "Who was on the phone?"
"Jeremiah. There's some trouble at his place. An intruder messed with the wrong Donovan daughter."
"Which one? Adriana?"
"Aaliyah," Nik said. "I'm headed over there. Jere and Jasmine are a little freaked out."
"She's okay, isn't she?" asked KateLynn.
"She's fine at the moment," Nik said. "I'll be gone a little while. Don't go anywhere."
"Not even to the kitchen? The boys might want to have Thanksgiving dinner at some point."
That wasn't what Nik meant, and KateLynn knew that. But she also realized that their morning of fun was over and it was time to be parents again.
Nik kissed her goodbye, then said,
"This is not how I wanted Thanksgiving to turn out, Katie."
"Go check on Aaliyah," KateLynn said. "We'll find some time for us later."
With that, Nik was headed out the door.
He contemplated walking over to Jeremiah's house, but drove instead. His mind was reeling with the news that his eight year old niece killed a man in self defense.
Once he arrived at the Donovan's, the police had finally showed up. An officer tried to stop him, but Nik got out his government ID and said, "This is a matter of national security, officer."
"How do I know that you're just not making that shit up?" the officer countered.
Nik rolled his eyes. What more proof does this guy need?
"Officer, I just showed you official U.S. Government ID proving who I am," Nik said curtly; "What more do you need?"
With that, Nik kept on walking into the house, where he was greeted by more cops, and Jeremiah.
"Jere, where's Aaliyah?" Nik asked his brother.
"On the couch," Jeremiah said; "I told her you were coming over."
Nik went to the couch in the living room, where Aaliyah sat with her siblings and her mother.
"Hi, Uncle Nik," Aaliyah said. "Dad says you want to talk to me."
"How are you?"
"Why is everyone asking me that?" Aaliyah said, clearly annoyed by the question. "I'm fine."
"Sorry," Nik said; "it's not every day that someone your age kills someone."
"He was in my room, and he threatened me and my family," Aaliyah said. "Was I supposed to let him take me from my family?"
"No, of course not," Nik said; "Was he armed?"
"He had a knife, Uncle Nik," Aaliyah said; "He said he'd kill me with it. I warned him I would shoot, but he made fun of me, saying that I couldn't use my gun. So I shot him. You and Dad and Aunt Julia always taught us that we were to shoot to kill, not shoot to maim. I didn't know I'd killed him until Mom said so."
Nik noticed the tone of voice Aaliyah used and remembered where he'd heard something similar before. It was when he was fifteen, after Julia had shot five New Army goons when they had held him and his brothers at gunpoint. Holy shit, he thought; she's in assassin mode!
"You know," Nik said, "that your mom and dad are a little weirded out by what you did. Not saying what you did was wrong, because the man was in your house without permission, but no parent is prepared for the day that their child kills someone in defense of their home and family."
"I know that Mom and Dad are freaked out, Uncle Nik," Aaliyah said; "But I did what I am being trained to do."
Nik looked at his niece, unable to shake the comparison to Julia out of his mind. He then asked her,
"What are you being trained to do, Aaliyah?"
"To be an assassin."
Nik now knew why Jeremiah and Jasmine were so concerned; he felt concern as well. Dear God, he said to himself, she's eight fucking years old!
"I see," he said to Aaliyah. "You know you have a long way to go in your training, right?"
"Yes, Uncle Nik," Aaliyah said; "and I welcome the challenge. Are we done now? I want to go back to bed."
"Yes, Aaliyah, we're done," Nik said gently. With that, Aaliyah got up and went to her sister Arielle's bedroom and went back to sleep, since her room was still considered a crime scene.
Jeremiah and Jasmine were talking to an officer when Nik walked up to the group. Jeremiah had just said, "That's a relief!"
"What's going on?" asked Nik.
"Major, it's been decided that your niece won't be charged with a crime, as she felt there was a threat to her safety, and because of her age," the officer said; "We'll take this scumbag to the morgue and get some idea exactly how he died and who the hell he is. Dr. Donovan seems to think that the bullet may have knicked a major artery."
"She's the doctor, she would probably know," Nik said. "But thank you for coming out and assuring Aaliyah's parents that she won't be charged."
The officer nodded and took his leave. Nik then asked Jeremiah and Jasmine,
"Talk to me, you two. Aaliyah isn't going to freak out when she's realized what she's done, is she?"
"Nik," Jeremiah began, "this is like that day when Julia killed those New Army soliders who came back for us after they killed Peter and Kiera. I remember the tone of voice that Julia used that day and every day since when she was in assassin mode. Aaliyah did that. She sounded just like that. We're going to keep an eye on her, just in case."
"You think we may have another Julia on our hands?" asked Nik.
"Damned if I know, brother," Jeremiah said, shaking his head; "Damned if I know."
II
The twenty-five pound turkey that took all day to cook was polished off in a matter of a couple of hours. It was the best Thanksgiving Julia could remember in a very long time. The only thing that would have made it better was if she'd been able to wish her twin half-brothers a happy birthday.
The children were in various stages of tryptophan induced slumber. After they had helped Julia and Jack clean up, Zach, Jaime and Rachel were asleep on the couch. Miri was trying to stay awake long enough to read something for her course on English Literature, but she was soon asleep as well, her copy of "A Tale of Two Cities" still propped on her lap.
"That," Jack said, "doesn't look like a half bad idea. I could use some sleep as well."
Julia nodded. She was exhausted. Between helping as she could with dinner, and trying not to think about the pain in her shoulder, she knew that in order to sleep, she'd need to take painkillers. Her doctors warned her of this when she was discharged from the hospital in Denver earlier in the month. Of course, she thought she had to tough it out, and that now seemed stupid to her. Who am I trying to impress? she asked herself as she walked back to the bedroom with Jack.
After taking half of the prescribed medication, Julia lay on the bed to wait for the pain to dull a little bit. Soon, she was asleep.
Jack removed her slippers and pulled the covers over her. He then gazed at her for what seemed to him like hours, though it was only a few minutes.
"Tomorrow, sweet Julia," he said to her sleeping form softly, "I will tell you about my illness, my fears, my needs. You'll want to take care of me. I know you so well my beautiful girl. But when you are allowed to go home, I must let you go. Your place is with your family. I love you, but I can't let you see me suffer. Your love makes me brave, and I can't take advantage of it. That wouldn't be fair to you."
He then remembered a conversation he had several years before. How he had promised to watch over the woman who had the courage to change him. She didn't know about this conversation, but Jack had been told that when the time was right, she'd be told about it. She still didn't know. And he wasn't going to be the one who told her.
"When the time is right," Jack said to her now, "you'll be told. Somehow."
Jack honestly didn't know how that would happen, since the person who was to do the telling had died nearly four years before.
"God...oh God, Eric!"
"My beauty..." Eric sighed as he made love to Krysta, "you bring me so much joy! So much joy...ahh, Krysta you captivate me and hold me hostage to my desires!"
"I want you...so much Eric!" Krysta cried out, close to release; "Please...please my love...please...?"
"Yes, my angel," he said, feeling close to release himself, though he would allow her to go first; "Anything you require, my beauty..."
It didn't take much longer before both of them climaxed and Eric withdrew from her. He held her close to him. He wasn't sure he could let her go. She had, just by coming to see him with news of Kathryn, broken the protective wall he had erected around his emotions since Helene died almost three years before. He knew he didn't deserve this beautiful angel that was sent to him, but he would do his best to protect her and love her the way she deserved.
They'd known each other for all of twenty-four hours.
"You're so beautiful, Krysta," he whispered to her; "I want to help you escape from the evil you're surrounded by. I want to help you rescue Kathryn. I...want you, Krysta."
She sat up and looked at him. "I don't deserve you, Eric," she said; "Not after all the wicked things I've done just to survive."
He saw tears forming in her eyes. As she allowed them to fall, he said,
"You were brought to me for a reason, Krysta. You don't have to be the tough girl with me. I know that inside you, there's a scared, lonely girl who just needs someone else to trust. Let me be that someone. You've trusted me with your body and with your emotions. I will never betray that trust, or any secrets you entrust to me. Please, Krysta... let me be that one person you can trust completely."
He wiped her tears away, and he knew somehow that he was falling in love with her. Was that why she was sent to him? To teach his heart how to give and receive love again?
Eric looked at her closely. Almost before his eyes, he thought he saw something about her change.
"Yes," she said softly. "Yes, Eric; I want, I need someone to trust completely. I want you to be that person. You've been so kind to me, so loving, so giving of yourself. I just can't run anymore."
"You will always have a safe place in my arms if you want it," Eric said.
"I do want it, Eric," she said. "And thank you."
Eric took her back into his arms and held her while she sobbed against his chest. "Let it out, Krysta," he whispered; "Let it all out, my beauty..."
As she cried against him, she felt the shame, the hurt, and the heartaches of her life dissipate from her. Eric Hope was the first person in her life who accepted her for who she was, and not because he thought he could change her.
But that is exactly what he had done, just by being kind to her. Krysta Banks knew that she'd found something that she had never found with any other person. Not her parents; not her lovers of both genders; and certainly not from Chastity.
Every girl dreams of finding Prince Charming. Krysta Banks really had and didn't know it. Her Prince Charming was named Eric Hope.
I think I'm in love with you, Eric, she thought; and I'm not scared anymore.
"I would like to announce that we do not have any pies this year," Jordan said after dinner.
"Good," Sam said, "because I don't think I could eat anything more right now."
"Me either," Drake agreed. "It was an excellent meal, Jordan."
"I barely had anything to do with it," Jordan said; "John did most of the work."
Drake turned to John and said, "Bloody good job, Johnno."
"Thanks, man," John said; "I've wanted to do this for a long time. I'm glad everyone liked it."
"Well, what is for dessert?" asked Kimber. "Since it's Sam and John's birthday, there should be a cake at least."
"I couldn't eat cake now if my life depended on it," Niki said; "I'm still working on the main course."
"Don't force yourself to eat, Niki," Drake said; "We can take it home if we must."
Kimber noticed that her father wasn't in the room and asked her mother, "Where's Dad?"
"He might be in the gym," Jordan said; "He's been really obsessed with not looking like a fat Jewish man."
From the kitchen, David yelled, "I'm am NOT obsessed with it! I'm just trying to stay healthy!"
"Yeah, right David," Jordan said; "I know about that secret stash in your office!"
"Oh, he's still hiding baked goodies in his desk?" Kimber asked. "He used to do that when we were kids!"
"You got it," said Jordan. "Thinks he's being slick, that one."
"We used to steal them, too, if memory serves," Niki said, laughing. "Mom would pay us a dollar for every one we found."
"Ooh, you're sneaky, Jordan!" said Drake.
"David has a tendency to put on weight, especially now that he's older and not as active as he used to be," Jordan said, loud enough for David to hear.
"Mom has to eat healthy, and Dad sometimes gets tired of it," Niki said; "so he gets his goodies at the Jewish bakery in North Austin and sneaks them home and hides them in his office."
"Oh?" Jordan asked; "It's the one in North Austin, off the interstate?"
"Yeah, Mom," Niki said; "He took me with him once and told me not to tell you we'd been there. I think I was six or seven years old."
David came into the dining room and said, "You know, I hate being talked about behind my back." He winked at Jordan. "She's not completely innocent here."
"I think we figured that out years ago," Kimber said; "You guys just like to tease each other."
"It's worse now, Kimber," Sam said; "Now it's all about them getting older, needing reading glasses; Mom teases Dad about needing a cane when his back acts up...stupid shit like that."
"It's always all about them, Sam...what are you talking about?!" John said. "Then they make it up later, if you know what I mean."
David looked at his wife. She smiled at him, then he said,
"Jord, looks like the jig is up. They've got us now."
"Yeah, David, I think you're right, honey," Jordan replied.
The boys rolled their eyes; their sisters shook their heads. Drake just laughed.
He took Niki's hand under the table and squeezed it. She looked at him and knew what he was thinking.
III
"Wow, check out this house, will ya, Danica?" Sandrina said as they entered Darren's townhouse a few blocks from CIA Headquarters. "This just screams 'a single man lives here!'"
"Maybe Aunt Natasha will change that," Danica replied.
Darren had invited Natasha, the twins, Danica, and Sandrina to have Thanksgiving dinner with him. He usually went out for the meal, but he wanted to share it this year with his lady and her family. He had it catered from the restaurant he usually went to, so it was ready shortly after Natasha and the family arrived.
Nikolai saw the swords displayed above the fireplace and asked, "Are those real, Darren?"
"Yes, Nikolai, they are real," Darren told the thirteen year old. "My father got me started with collecting them when I wasn't much older than you are."
"Cool," said Nikolai.
"You know, Darren," Natasha was telling Darren, "I could have just fixed dinner and had you come over. I have plenty of help."
"I know, Tash," Darren said; "but I wanted to do something special for you, and I don't cook all that much. Not on such a large scale at any rate. Besides, the kids and your nieces have never been here."
"True, true," Natasha said; "And I really appreciate that you invited all of us to spend the holiday weekend here."
"Gets you out of D.C. for a few days," Darren said; "and away from anyone trying to harm you and your family."
"What are you doing about that?" asked Natasha.
"These A.R.M. creeps are like roaches," Darren said; "they literally come out of the woodwork. And we have no idea where their leader is. The guy running things appointed himself to role when Chastity Edwards disappeared."
"What happened to her?"
"No one knows," Darren said. "We'd gotten intel that she was in a mental health facility, but that turned out to be false."
"Who's running things in her stead?" asked Natasha.
"Some guy named Clayton Pollard," Darren said; "He may have been the man who tried to attack Sandy and Danica at school a few weeks ago. He's obsessed with Sandy for some reason."
"Sandy and I do look alike," Natasha said, "Maybe he's trying to get to either me or Nik by trying to harm Sandy."
"I'd say that it's more likely Nik than you," Darren said; "If anyone was going to try to get to you, they'd go through your kids. We still have your neighborhood under surveillance since that day that someone followed Vixen home from school."
"These people don't know who they're messing with," Natasha said; "If they have someone doing their intel, they're doing a piss poor job. Anyone who has half a brain and can read knows what we're all capable of."
"We're not dealing with a brain trust here," Darren said; "Any brains in that outfit belong to Chastity Edwards. Without her, they're flying blind."
A waiter approached Darren, saying, "Mr. Director, dinner is ready to be served."
"Thank you," Darren said; to Natasha he said, "It's time to give thanks for gifts great and small."
"Sandy, Danica...kids," Natasha said; "Dinner."
After everyone was seated and served, Darren said,
"I'm so thankful that all of you were able to join me today. Last year, I had Thanksgiving in the restaurant that provided all this food today. It's nice to have others to share this day with."
"Thank you for having us," Vixen said.
Natasha looked at her daughter. She was thankful that she was able to raise Vixen and Nikolai on her own for thirteen years and have them turn out so well. Though they never wanted for anything, Natasha knew she was giving them the childhood she never got. Vixen and Nikolai had each other their whole lives; Natasha didn't realize that she still had a brother until he was 21 years old.
Natasha Vincent decided that if Darren wanted to marry her, she would say yes. He waited patiently for her all these years. She wouldn't make him wait any longer.
Jeremiah invited the San Marco family over to share in his family's Thanksgiving bounty. There was enough food to feed Julia's family as well, had they been there and not in hiding.
The talk amongst the kids was the fact that Aaliyah killed someone that morning. The San Marco boys were quite impressed with their second to youngest cousin.
The adults took note of this and talked among themselves about the events of that morning, and what that would mean for the course of training for all the kids still living at home.
"If Aaliyah thinks she's going to be an assassin, she needs to be trained by one of the best in the business," Nik said.
"That means Julia," Jeremiah said. "And she's slightly unavailable right now."
"You two could train her until Julia returns to Chicago, couldn't you?" asked KateLynn.
"We will, Katie," Nik said; "I'll teach her some of the methods we used in the Ghost Squad, and I guess Jere could show her some of the proper techniques that assassins use until Julia returns."
"I just worry that this will change Aaliyah from a happy and carefree girl to someone who thinks that all problems in her life can be solved with violence," Jasmine said. "I have a colleague who does work with kids who are in gangs, and adults who were in the New Army as teens. I'm going to see if he can evaluate Aaliyah, or recommend someone who can keep her head screwed on straight."
"You know Aaliyah's going to hate that, Jas," KateLynn said. "It was like when we had Peter evaluated after his accident. He hated all the damn questions he was asked."
"I noticed that about Aaliyah this morning when I asked her if she was okay," Nik said. "So many people had asked her that question and she was annoyed by the time I asked it. Julia was like that, too."
"Do we have someone who has the potential to develope the same skillset that Julia has in our midst?" asked Jasmine.
"Actually, we have three," Nik said; "Aaliyah is one. She proved that here this morning. The other two are in hiding with their family, and both of them are going to be looking for a way to prove to us the skills they've been working on since they have been in hiding."
"In other words," Jeremiah said; "a new group of assassins with skills most adults don't have, let alone two eight year olds and a ten year old."
"Exactly," Nik said. "I don't know about you guys, but that scares me to death."
Later, as the two families gathered at the table, Jeremiah asked Nik to give the blessing over the meal.
"We thank Thee for providing us with this bounty, and pray that it nourishes our bodies and minds," Nik said; "And please watch over our sister, her family, and the man who was kind enough and brave enough to take on the challenge of protecting them. May they have a continued sense of safety and good health."
All gathered said, "Amen."
Jack woke up when he realized that Julia wasn't laying next to him.
He got up and found her in the living room, wrapped up in a quilt watching the snow fall.
He walked up behind her and asked, "Julia, are you okay?"
Julia turned around. "Yeah, I'm okay. Your coughing woke me up."
My coughing? Jack thought. I think I'd know it if I were coughing.
"I didn't realize I was coughing, Julia," Jack said. "I'm sorry if I woke you, though."
"That doesn't sound like a cough that accompanies a cold, Jack," said Julia. "What's wrong?"
"What makes you think anything is wrong? It's just something that comes and goes," Jack said, hoping just this once that Julia would be satisfied with that explanation.
His hopes were dashed when she asked, "When were you going to tell me you were seriously ill, Jack?"
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