Chapter 69

I

Bryan followed Danica home at a safe distance, then pulled away as she entered the street where she lived.

He was happy. Danica, he felt, really liked him. The age thing did bother him a little, but if it didn’t bother Danica, then he would try to not let it bother him.  

Parking his car in the usual spot, he got out, only to be surprised by Richards. Bryan was taken aback momentarily, going for the gun in the shoulder holster he wore under his sports jacket.

“God motherfuckin’ dammit, Cobain!” he said hotly when he realized who it was; “You trying to get your ass shot?”

“I didn’t think you’d be that easy to surprise, honestly,” Richards said; “You’re usually more aware than this.”

“What was so freakin’ important that you had to come to the damn car?” asked Bryan.

“I wanted to find out how your ‘date’ with the lovely Ms. Donovan went.”

Bryan leaned up against the car and sighed. Do you really not have a life that you have to quiz me on mine, Coby? he thought.

“It went fine,” he said; “We’re planning on seeing each other again.”

“Does she know you’re following her now?”

“She figured it out, Coby,” Bryan said; “Did you know that she and her cousins have a sixth sense?”

“I’d heard stories that they did,” Richards said; “From all their training and such. I didn’t know there was any truth to it.”

“There is, but that is between you and me. No one else in DeepCon is to know about it,” warned Bryan. “Danica entrusted me with this information, and you’re going to keep your fucking trap shut. Got that?”

“Yeah, Bry, I got it,” Richards said; “You’re really hot for this chick, aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say that I see possibilities with Danica. Whether they will pan out remains to be seen,” said Bryan.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” Richards said; “I still think you’re crazy for dating your target, but that may actually work in our favor.”

“That’s what Danica thinks,” Bryan said.

“She’s a smart girl, then,” said Richards; “Maybe I shouldn’t put anything past her.”

“You shouldn’t put anything past her cousins, either,” said Bryan. “Any of them. There are quite a few of them. Most of them live near the old Chicagoland compound.”

“Of all of them, who should we be the most concerned about?” asked Richards.

“Honestly,” Bryan said; “and Danica didn’t say anything about this, but I think the most dangerous of Danica’s cousins are all of Julia Summers’ kids, the youngest of whom is nine. She thinks she has a lot to prove, and works hard at her training. Our sources seem to think she’s trying to surpass her mother in some way. Another one is one of Danica’s biological cousins, who is, ironically enough, also nine years old. Her name is Aaliyah. She’s the youngest of Jeremiah Donovan’s kids.”

“We should be worried about a couple of third graders, Bryan? Seriously?” Richards said.

“If Rachel Summers is anything like her mother, we should be paying attention,” Bryan said; “They may be working for CIA one day sooner than we think.”

===

II

“Mom, I’m bored.”

Julia looked over at Rachel, who was sprawled out on the sofa with Aaliyah after their training that morning. Their homeschooling wouldn’t start for another three hours.

“Uncle Nik was very pleased with yours and Aaliyah’s progress this morning,” Julia said, changing the subject. “You two have been training for a year now, and you’re both doing very well. The rest of us might have to be extremely careful around you two.”

“Uncle Nik cautioned me not to be like you, Mom,” Rachel said. “He said you were obsessive when your were my age.”

Julia smiled. Yeah, I was, wasn’t I? she thought. “You have to remember the Occupation was going on at the time, and our guardians were trying to prepare us for anything. And, because I was the only girl, I guess I got it my head that I had to work twice as hard to be half as good as the boys.”

“Uncle Nik says you’re better than he, Dad, and Uncle Joe,” Aaliyah piped in. “We just want to be as good as you are, Aunt Jules.”

Julia looked over at her niece. God, she was going to be tall, Julia thought. Rachel will be lucky to reach five feet.

“I’m flattered, Aaliyah,” Julia said; “but you need to work to improve your own skills, and not compare yourselves to me. I’m the exception, not the rule.”

“So we should be the exceptions?” asked Rachel.

“No, just be Rachel,” her mother said. “Rules are meant to be broken sometimes, but don’t stress yourselves to try and break those rules, okay?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Okay, Aunt Jules.”

The other kids were filing in after their training for the morning ended. Zach wanted breakfast. Adam wanted a nap. Jaime wanted to get her lessons out of the way so she could go up to Belvidere and see the horses.

“You’re not going to be any good to those horses, James, unless you get some rest,” Nik was telling her; “Nap, lessons, then we’ll go to Belvidere, if it’s okay with your mom.”


“It’s fine with me, but you’re right, Nik,” Julia said; “Jaime, you and your sister and brother go upstairs and rest. Lessons are at 10 on the dot. Don’t be late.”

“What about me, Aunt Jules?” asked Aaliyah.

“Isn’t your dad going to give you grammar and writing today, Liyah?” asked Nik.

Aaliyah sighed. She had hoped to have her science lesson with Rachel that day. But her father was doing grammar and writing, and Rachel wouldn’t have that until after her science block ended in August. By that time, Aaliyah would be having mathematics with Uncle Nik.

“Why don’t you go sack out in Rachel’s room,” Nik said. “I’ll send your dad over later to come get you.”

With that, both Rachel and Aaliyah ran up the stairs.

When they were alone, Nik asked Julia, “How was the big trip to college with Miri?”

“She was plenty excited, that’s for sure,” Julia said; “The campus tour was informative, and Miri’s roommate is a very nice girl with a very familiar name.”

“Oh?” asked Nik. “Anyone we know of?”

“Would Sarah Kathryn’s great granddaughter be enough of a clue?” asked Julia.

Nik was taken aback. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Julia said. “She was raised by her grandparents because her mother had some medical issues; Her grandfather is Eric Hope.”

“He distanced himself from his mother’s policies, if I recall,” said Nik. “What’s the girl’s name?”

“Kelly,” Julia said; “She’s only a few months older than Miri, but she’s in her sophomore year at Northwestern.”

“So Miri won’t feel like the only teenager at school,” Nik mused; “Pretty smart of the university to put two such girls together as roommates.”

“That was probably their thinking,” Julia said; “The other girls were a little older, so they were either paired with each other, or with an older student. Miri really lucked out.”

“Her father would be proud for sure,” Nik said; “Ryan always said that Miri was too intelligent for her own good.” He paused, then asked Julia,

“Why did you marry Jack Coltrane?”

The surprised look on Julia’s face soon gave way to sadness. Nik instantly regretted asking the question.

“How did you find out?” asked Julia, feeling on the verge of losing control of her emotions.

“The way you acted while he was sick, and shortly after his death before you disappeared,” Nik said. “You acted like a grieving widow. So Jere did some checking, and found a record of a marriage license in Wyoming that John Christofferson and Julie WhiteFeather were married in March.”

“One,” Julia said; “Jack was Miri’s father, after all. Other than Miri, none of the kids know this. Two, we loved each other; Three, he was dying and wanted to leave everything to me and the kids. We thought getting married would make that easier.”

“You didn’t take his name, though.”

“Like being ‘Julia Summers’ wasn’t a big enough target?” asked Julia sarcastically. “And we wanted to keep it a secret. There are some people who would think because of how Jack and I met, that I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, when that wasn’t the case. Do you know how freaked my mother would be if she knew?”

Nik had to concede that Julia had a point.

“So you and Jere poked around and found out,” she continued; “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this is something I don’t want to be common knowledge. I know I can count on you and Jere to keep my secret.”

Nik put his hand on Julia’s arm. “Of course, little sister,” he said softly; “We weren’t planning on telling anyone anyway, but I wanted to know why you did it. Your reasons are your business. You can count on us to keep it quiet. Not even our wives know this.”

“Thank you, Nik,” Julia said, turning away from him. “I’m not planning on doing this again. Not when both Ryan and Jack up and died on me. I’ll raise my children alone before I would consent to get married again. Besides, just think how tough it would be for any man to be married to the ‘SpineSplitter’?” She laughed sadly.

She then thought, I wish I could remember those three weeks I was gone, but maybe it’s better that I don’t.  

===

III

At 12:20pm, Natasha arrived at the appointed deck for the brunch that Mariah had invited her to.

The first thing she noticed is how some of the women, especially those her age and older, were dressed. Who the hell are they trying to get the attention of, was Natasha’s first thought. She’d seen a lot of older women dress way too young before, but this took the cake. Natasha just shook her head silently and entered the dining area.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Dixon,” one of the older ladies said to her. “It’s such an honor being aboard ship with the CIA Director and his new bride.”

God, lady, Natasha thought, brown nose much, dear?

Some of the other women shook their heads in agreement to what the first one said. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” Natasha said pleasantly, almost gagging on the words as they came from her mouth. Why did I agree to come to this again? she asked herself. Then, Oh yeah... Kylee.

As if on cue, Mariah entered the dining area with one of her young assistants in tow. She was dressed in her usual shipboard attire: white blouse, blue skirt, white pumps. She was talking to her assistant, a bright young thing named Amber, whose personality came from the movies she watched. Natasha doubted very much the girl had more than a high school education, and thought that Vixen could best her on an IQ test. Oh, that’s sad, she thought, being shown up intellectually by a girl who’s not yet 14.

“So glad you could join us, Mrs, Dixon,” Amber said to her now. “I know you and your husband are on your honeymoon. Is this your first marriage?” she asked, almost hoping that Natasha would say no.

“Yes, it is,” Natasha said; “for both me and my husband. Good things come to those who wait.” She then walked away from the vapid girl and found her place at the appointed table. She was to be seated between Mrs. Abercrombee, who was 90 years old if she was a day; and Mrs. Phillips, who had been a college professor and was a recent retiree. Mrs. Ambercrombee talked about her long dead husband; “Poor Michael, he never stood a chance against that mugger...” Natasha had gathered that Michael was younger than his wife, and was probably in the great beyond enjoying life without his overtalkative and oversharing wife.

Mrs. Phillips was actually more interesting to talk to, even though she asked way too many questions about how Natasha had just gotten married, but she had two children.

“I wanted children, not necessarily a husband at that point in time,” Natasha explained to her; “A male friend of mine was dying of heart disease, and had banked some of his sperm. He told me that if I wanted to have children, he would make sure I had access. I learned I was expecting twins shortly after he passed away. They’re 13 now, and they know about how they came to exist.”

“Would you and Mr. Dixon have a child or two yourselves?” asked Mrs. Phillips.

“We’ve discussed it, Mrs. Phillips,” Natasha said; “so it’s not out of the question. Darren loves my kids.”

“He’s a lot older than you are, dear,” Mrs. Phillips said; Natasha put the professor’s age at somewhere around 70, or 15 years older than Darren.

“Not by much, actually,” said Natasha.

Finally, the brunch was being served and Mariah stood before those gathered and began to speak.

“We are so happy that you all decided to come to our little get together,” she said; “We try to have one of these on every cruise, just so that you all can mingle and get to know one another. I see that the meal is being served, so I’ll let you enjoy your meal. If you have any questions, me or my staff will always be available.”

She then sat down at one of the other tables and started chatting up a group of young women who appeared to be recent college graduates.

After what seemed like an eternity, the brunch ended and the women who had attended were going back to their staterooms to change into whatever clothing suited their next activity. Natasha lagged behind on purpose; something that was notated by the not so with it Amber.

“May I be of assistance, Mrs. Dixon?” she asked in that overly sweet drawl that seemed to be copied from Mariah.

“I’d like a word with Mariah in private, if you don’t mind,” Natasha said.

Amber looked back and saw Mariah at work, and said, “She seems to be busy, Mrs. Dixon. I can assist you.”

“No, dear, you can’t,” Natasha said; “This is something that only Ms. Gadsden can help me with.”

“I see,” said Amber, looking and sounding a little put off. “I’ll go fetch her then.”

Soon, Mariah was free and walked over to where Natasha sat.

“You wanted to see me, Natasha?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Natasha; “in private, if you don’t mind.”

Mariah knew what Natasha was getting at, or at least she thought she did. She’s going to confront me about being Kylee, she fretted.

Without thinking about it, she remembered one of the first times she and Vixen really got to know one another.

Kylee walked back into the dorm, looking white as a ghost. She had completed her first assignment, and she was not handling it as well as she thought she was.

“Kylee, what’s wrong,” Vixen asked.

“I finished my first assignment for Morbus, Vixen,” Kylee said; “No problem. Then I found out that my target had young children, and now I feel terrible!”

Vixen wasn’t sure she understood Kylee’s feelings. She feels bad because the scumbag had kids?

“How do you do your assignments without thinking about the aftermath, Vixen?” Kylee asked.

“I disassociate myself from it,” Vixen said; “I don’t think about the collateral damage, just the task at hand.”

“I’m not sure I can do that,” Kylee said; “How can you be so callous?”

“I kinda had to be. You know where I came from,” Vixen said; “If I thought about how what I’d been forced to do as being a whore, I’d be dead now. So I distanced myself from those feelings and just performed the acts the client paid for. It was like watching some other girl service the client. I take that same ‘callousness’ and apply it to my targets. The less I think about them, the better off I am. It doesn’t mean I like it or dislike it, I just do the assignment and leave.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

“I’m not sure I can quote-unquote teach you how,” Vixen said. “It’s just something you have to figure out to do for yourself. Think of it this way: it’s you or them. If you don’t kill them, they’ll kill you.”

“I know, Vixen,” Kylee said. She seemed on the verge of tears. “The killing part I can do. It’s the thinking part afterward I can’t seem to grasp.”

“Then just don’t think about it afterwards.”

“Maybe I’m too sensitive for this,” Kylee said, tears starting to stream down her face.

Vixen felt bad for the girl. She was a good markswoman. Her emotions, however, were a mess. They were the only two women in BlackOps, though Morbus promised to recruit more, they were it.

Vixen felt something from deep inside her kick in. Almost like when she was a little girl and her mother would calm her fears. Would that help Kylee, or hurt her in the long run?

“Oh, Kylee...” she said as she took the younger woman into her arms to comfort her. “I know that sometimes, we as women have all these conflicting emotions. Sometimes I don’t understand them either. Go ahead and cry it out. We don’t have to tell anyone...”

She felt Kylee sob against her shoulder. Great, shuttering sobs. Soon, it seemed that Kylee was over it. Was that all she needed? Vixen asked herself; a shoulder to lean on?

“I’m sorry, Vixen...” Kylee said, her words coming out in gasps. “You probably think I’m weak.”

Vixen looked at Kylee. Weak, no. Scared, no. Uncertain... possibly.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” said Vixen. “This is all new to you. Your emotions caught you off guard. You need a way to harness them. You...”

Before Vixen realized what she was doing, she pulled Kylee’s face up to meet hers. She looked into Kylee’s eyes for the briefest of moments before she kissed her full on the lips.

What shocked her was that Kylee returned it.

At that point, neither of them wanted to stop. It would go farther than either one of them wanted it to. It would be their secret until Morbus caught them.

And Morbus would want both of them...and not just as assassins.

“Mariah? Are you in there?” Natasha asked, noticing the blank look on the other woman’s face.

“We can talk in my stateroom,” Mariah said suddenly. She then told her staff that she was not to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon.

Natasha then followed Mariah to her stateroom, where she would find out more about her connection to Kylee Sears than she ever wanted to know.

===