Chapter 4

While Amanda slept, she kept replaying the chase, and the subsequent accident, over and over in her mind. She saw the strange, foreign men, and the cars zipping in and out of traffic on I-5, and she heard the terrifying, gut-wrenching sound of twisting metal as James’s Charger flipped (ten times) and eventually landed on its top, flattening it like an accordion. In her dreams everything seemed even more terrifying than in real life, since in real life the whole thing had happened so quickly she had barely had time to keep up with it all, but in her dreams everything happened in slow motion, making it seem somewhat surreal, and it kept happening over and over and over again. The worst part, by far, was the end, when the Charger’s roof caved in and Amanda’s entire world went black.

So, like all people who have had a bad dream, she was more than happy to finally awaken. She was still in the hospital bed but it was a full day later. As before, the minute she started to regain consciousness, the nurse and doctor rushed over to her, did their customary checks and inquiries, then turned her over to James. Like the day before, he still looked pretty haggard, but not quite as bad. He had shaved so his stubble was gone and his eyes weren’t nearly as bloodshot.

“How are you feeling today, kiddo?”

“Okay. I guess.”

“You were really restless while you slept. You were thrashing about pretty bad at times. At one point we thought we might have to strap you down.”

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or kidding, but she didn’t really care. “I kept having nightmares. I kept seeing the accident over and over again. I still don’t understand. Who were those men and why were they chasing us?”

“The men were former KGB agents, now freelance mercenaries. We’re still not certain what they were doing at your game, but they were both linked to an operation I performed in Slovakia about six months ago. As such, they must have been after me.”

“How did they know where to find you? I thought agents were supposed to keep their identities and homes a secret.”

“Usually, we do. But there have been security breaches on occasion. This must have been one of them.”

“Where are they now?”

James hesitated for a second, clearly choosing his words carefully. “You needn’t worry about them. Jones and the rest of his team took care of them.”

Amanda’s heart stopped. She didn’t really know what James meant when he used the phrase ‘took care of them’ but she had a good idea.

“If they found us isn’t there a good chance others could, too? Other agents, from other countries?”

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, the two of us died in the car accident. I died on the scene and you died shortly after being transported to the hospital. The USIA is taking care of the details now, including press releases and death certificates.”

At that point, Amanda’s head was really spinning. What in the world was James talking about? They were supposed to be dead? That was crazy.

He saw the confusion and anxiety in her face.

“I know it sounds insane but it’s the only way. There’s no other way to guarantee our safety. We’ll both be given new identities, including social security numbers, birth certificates, passports, driver’s licenses, names -”

“Names? What do you mean?”

“You can’t have a new identity without a new name. And the new identity is essential. Otherwise, foreign agents may be able to locate us again.”

“What’s my new name?”

“That’s up to you. Our last name was already assigned by the USIA, and it’s Cruise, but they want you to pick your first and middle names. They think it’ll be a little easier for you to accept if you get to have some input. I’m thinking about picking the name Michael. I’ve always liked it. What do you think?”

“It’s pretty common. Pretty plain.”

“You think so?” He paused for a second. “What do you think I should pick?”

“José.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Do I look like a José?”

Amanda giggled. James was a tall, athletic man, at least 6’2” and 180 pounds. He had broad shoulders, a large chest, blue eyes, and thick, blonde hair. He did not look like a José at all.

“Wow. A giggle. Is that a sign you’re feeling better?”

“A little. But my arm is still killing me. It’s going to take a lot of ice cream to make it better.”

James smiled. That was one of their favorite, and longest running, jokes. It stemmed from a time when Amanda had been four and James had been teaching her how to ride a bike without training wheels. There was a terrible crash. She fell and scraped her leg from the knee down. After getting some medicine and cleaning it up, he offered her a bowl of ice cream and said it would make her feel a lot better since “ice cream had magical healing abilities, especially when eaten by girls.” Amanda hadn’t really believed him but she really liked ice cream, so from that point forward whenever she got an injury of any type they went for ice cream. One softball season, when she went through a particularly nasty spell of games, they became regulars at the local Cold Stone Creamery.

“I guess I won’t be playing softball for a while.”

“Softball is the least of our concerns right now. We’ll worry about that later. For now, we need to start picking a new home. The agency is going to get us a new one, and they’ve given us two choices: Seattle or Boston.”

Amanda’s heart stopped. She was a sophomore in high school and the last thing she wanted to do was move to a new school and leave her friends and classmates behind.

“We have to move?”

“We have no choice. We can’t stay here in Anaheim, or for that matter anywhere in Los Angeles. We would be too easy to locate. It would completely defeat the purpose of giving us new identities.”

“I wanted to finish high school at Anaheim. I only have two years left. We’ve never had to move before.”

“We’ve never had anything like this happen before. My cover has never been compromised.”

All was silent for several long minutes. James clearly wanted to say something more, to alleviate the tension and help her feel better, but he was at a loss for words.

“Why Seattle or Boston?” she asked.

“Both cities have USIA offices that are in need of agents. The agency wants to assign us to one of them. They considered the San Francisco office, too, but they’re fearful San Francisco is too close to LA and wouldn’t provide a good enough cover. So it’s either Seattle or Boston. Do you have a preference?”

Amanda was silent. She had never been to either of those cities so she knew little about them. As such, she had no real preference and she didn’t want to move to either.

James saw her hesitation.

“Don’t rush your decision. There’s no need to decide now. We can talk about it some more later when you’re feeling better. Myself, I’d prefer to stay on the west coast so I’d prefer Seattle, but after what you’ve been through these past few days I’m willing to let you make the decision.”

At that point, something caught Amanda’s attention. Something he had said earlier that seemed odd to her.

“What did you say?”

“You can choose whatever city -”

“No,” she said, interrupting him. She was trying to remember his exact words (which wasn’t easy, given her mental and physical condition at the time). “Did you say they’re going to assign us?” She put special emphasis on the word ‘us.’ “Did you mean you?”

James smiled. “No, I meant us. It’s up to you, because of course nobody can force you to do anything, but the agency wants to add you to its ranks. They’ve actually wanted to for quite a while now but I’ve resisted because I wanted you to have a normal life for as long as possible. I didn’t want you to get mixed up in all of this espionage stuff. Trust me, it’s not as glamorous as it seems.”

Now Amanda had heard it all. Clearly James was playing a joke on her, or, at a minimum, just trying to be funny. “How could I be an agent? I’m only sixteen. I haven’t even graduated from high school yet.”

“We have several agents who are still students. Jones’s daughter, for example. And they come in really handy at times. Especially for undercover missions when we need an adult agent to play a particular part. A lot of times, the part is much more convincing if the agent has a ‘daughter’ along. Foreign agents never expect someone of being an agent if they have a child with them.”

“I don’t know how to be an agent. I’d probably get shot on the first day. Look at me. I barely survived my first car chase.”

James smiled. “The USIA has a training program for its agents, both adults and teens. You’d be required to complete the training before being sent on any missions. And your missions would be carefully chosen, and highly limited, to prevent exposing you to any unnecessary danger.”

“Why me? Why not some other kid? There must be someone out there who is more qualified than me.”

“Doubtful. Your current situation is perfect, since supposedly you’re dead. You can basically join the agency with no prior attachments or commitments. In addition, since I’m your father, there are no issues there. With other kids, we’d have to deal with their parents, get legal waivers and liability releases, etc. It’s more red tape than it’s worth. And finally, the agency wants you because you’re so far ahead on your training.”

“What? I haven’t started any training yet.”

He grinned. “Actually, you have. I never really wanted you to become an agent, but to be honest, deep down I knew it was going to happen eventually. So I’ve been informally training you for years now, helping you develop the skills you would need when it did happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve never done any training.”

“The ski trips every year. Mountain climbing. SCUBA diving. Sky diving.”

“Those were vacations. We were having fun. Especially that time in Aspen when we went off the main course and raced to the bottom.”

“That’s what I wanted you to think. I wanted you to think the trips were nothing more than vacations, but really I was preparing you for the future. Developing the skills I thought you would need when you became an agent.”

There was a brief silence as Amanda tried to digest what she had been told. She found it hard to believe, and more than a little far-fetched, but at the same time she did have to admit there could be some truth to it. After all, they had done a lot over the years, and many of those things had been activities that had given her distinct skill sets that many people never developed their entire lives, even as adults. Amanda was only sixteen, but already she could ski, snowboard, SCUBA dive, pilot planes (small ones only), sky dive, ride motorcycles, rock climb, ride horses, and fight (she was a fourth degree black belt in taekwondo and had been fighting competitively in tournaments (usually against boys) since she was five).

And then there was one more thing she could do that few people (especially Americans) could. She could speak four languages: English, Spanish, French, and Italian. James had hired instructors for her almost as soon as she could speak, and over the years the two of them had taken numerous trips to locations where she could use and perfect her skills. The year before, they had gone to Barcelona and Guadalajara to practice her Spanish, Montréal to practice her French, and Milan to practice her Italian (Milan was so awesome – Italian boys were so cute. One boy, named Luciano, had really caught her eye but James had chased him away as soon as he saw them talking).

Like most men with teenage daughters, he wasn’t a fan of teenage boys at all.

“So all of these things we’ve done over the years,” she said, “they’ve just been training sessions?”

“Of course not. Primarily they were vacations for the two of us. A good chance for a father and a daughter to unwind and have some quality time together, especially since I always felt bad for leaving you behind so much when I went on missions. But also they were a way for me to keep my skill sets sharp and to train you. And that reminds me - I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now about that Aspen trip. I still want to know how you beat me to the bottom of that ski run. I was so far ahead I couldn’t even see you behind me. I actually contemplated stopping and going back to make certain you hadn’t fallen and gotten hurt but then I saw you come out of nowhere and there was no way I could catch up to you.”

She laughed. “I cheated. I knew a shortcut, so I waited until you got to that stretch with the moguls, where you would be preoccupied going over them, and when you weren’t looking I took it.”

His eyes were huge with realization. “I knew it. You’re a great skier, Amanda, but I knew there was no way you could have gotten to the bottom of that run that quickly.”

She waited for a second, wondering if she was going to get in trouble for cheating but no punishment was forthcoming. Instead, James was all smiles and he was clearly impressed with her ingenuity and creativity.

But then something else came to mind. “What about that time at Yosemite? When we were rock climbing. Did you cheat that time, too? You made it up that cliff face awfully fast.”

She smiled. “Nope. I won that one fair and square.”

He nodded. “Well done. You’re getting really good at things. A couple more years and you’ll probably be able to beat me at everything.”

They were both silent for a second. But then a devilish smile formed on his face. She had seen it before, a few times, usually when he wanted to tease her about something.

“But there is one thing you’re terrible at.”

Oh my god, she thought. Here I am in the middle of a hospital, with a concussion, a broken arm, and three cracked ribs, facing the possibility of moving to another city and leaving my school and friends behind, and he’s going to tease me about something?

“You’re horrible at picking boyfriends.”

She was flabbergasted.

“You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true. Remember that Billy Sullivan kid? What a creep.”

Amanda cringed. She hated to admit it but he was right. Billy Sullivan had been her boyfriend for a portion of her eighth grade year. He had turned out to be a real loser, and she’d even caught him smoking marijuana on more than one occasion.

“And what about Ricky Smith?” James said.

Amanda cringed again. Ricky Smith had been her boyfriend for several months during her freshman year. They broke up when she found out he was seeing another girl, a trampy blonde named Miranda Mavins.

“But the worst of all,” James said, “was that kid with the stupid nickname. You know, the one who wore all of the gold chains and wanted to be a white rapper. What was his name? Vanilla-T?”

Amanda knew he was teasing her, but anyway, she had heard more than enough. She turned to the nurse, who was on the far side of the room sorting through some supplies in a medical cabinet and said, “I think I need my father to leave now. I’m tired and need to get some rest. And I definitely don’t need to hear about my ex-boyfriends anymore.”

She didn’t really want to go back to sleep for fear of having more of the frightening dreams of the car accident, but at the same time she did not want to continue the conversation about her ex-boyfriends any longer.

James laughed. He knew he had worn out his welcome and he did want Amanda to get some more rest (the more the better), so he hopped up and started to head for the door.

“Take care, kiddo. I’ll be back to check on you soon. In the meantime, start thinking about your new name. Make it something good. And it better not be something silly like Vanilla-T.”

The last thing he saw as he walked into the adjacent hallway was Amanda’s tongue as she stuck it out at him.