The Teenage Assassins

Celebrate the twelfth-years' last year of active service to Covert Operatives in style! Graduation speeches and ceremonies will be completed by 9:00pm. Afterward, the dance floor, additional entertainment, and private tours of never-before-seen sections of the Griffith will be open. No section of the Griffith is off limits this night! Alcohol will be provided during the reception, and attendees will not be allowed to bring in their own drinks. From the active service operatives, only tenth-year agents, eleventh-year agents, and twelfth-year agents may attend. All executives are welcome. Reserve your ticket today! WARNING: Any agent found carrying a weapon to Commencement will be removed from the premises immediately.

My reflection stared back at me, accusing me of the evils I didn't want to admit to myself. Traitor, the mirror whispered. Hypocrite. Liar. Deceiver. Darned dangerous double-crosser.

"Jane, you look fat in the mirror!"

I sighed. With the self-reflective moment ruined, I glanced over my shoulder to address Lucy. "Yeah, the mirror distorts my figure a lot." I glanced back to the glass. Okay, so the angles of the glass caused my body to look two feet tall and four feet wide.

My reflection still looked the same. Still as double-crossing and deceiving as my real self.

"Wow, look at these leaves! You can see the ants and the water droplets on them and everything." Lucy pointed at one of the paintings hanging on the brocade red wall. Her finger pointed so close to the painting, the security guard standing next to her had to push her back.

As I walked over to where Lucy stood, I caught Emma's eye and we gave each other knowing looks. Nothing made Lucy more fanatical than paintings, and nothing bored Emma and me more than her classical art fascination. The modern art stuff was cool and thought-provoking, but pictures of leaves and old fat ladies? No thank you.

I knew Emma felt the same way, and we exchanged glances saying, "Oh no, we're stuck here." Ever since Emma spoke to me at the beach house, there'd been an uneasy friendship between us again. For some reason, she didn’t ignore me any longer.

While Lucy gasped for joy over the paintings, I inclined my head toward the outside balcony right outside the room. Emma nodded in understanding.

"Hey Luce, Jane and I are going to be right outside."

Lucy spun around. Her hands clasped in excitement and her eyes lit up when she saw us. "Okay! Actually, meet me at the café in like ten minutes. I want to check out more Botticelli paintings. Ah, I'm so glad I brought you guys to the Getty with me today. Friends again!"

I had to admit, I accepted Lucy's invitation to the Getty mainly so I could talk to Emma alone. I couldn’t risk Adrian knowing; I needed some distance from him. He'd been everywhere lately, like I was some china doll who was going to break if I was dropped.

Or like he was some liar who didn't want his girlfriend to discover the secrets he hid.

Emma and I walked out of the balcony and down another flight of stairs leading into the main section of the Getty. The walls were a brilliant, pure white. We continued past the glass doors and toward the fountain. Even outside, everything was white. I continued past the strange-looking waterfall sculpture and down the steps leading to the garden.

Emma followed me. We both knew what we were going to discuss needed to have as much privacy as possible. I finally sat down on a bench in front of the maze in the back yard. The air smelled sticky sweet with flowers, and the only other sounds around us belonged to the snapping of cameras as tourists photographed themselves standing in front of the Getty maze.

"I hacked his computer."

Emma's eyes widened. "Why?"

"I needed to figure out what you were talking about. I found an obituary of my parents, Emma." I glanced around us, checking we were still alone. "I need to know why he didn't tell me my parents were alive before I entered foster care. He knew I thought they were dead. Why didn't Adrian tell me?"

Emma pressed her lips together. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her legs were tucked in next to the bench, in some good girl pose, nothing like the fiery and outspoken Emma I knew. The silence was unnerving.

"Tell me why you thought Adrian was lying to me."

"If he's not lying to you then he's still keeping information from you." Emma glanced down at her hands. "It happened while you were gone. I was getting ready to take your place for Adrian's mission, and he started talking to some man who approached us."

"Who?"

"It wasn't any executive I'd seen before, but it could have been one. You know how many there are." Emma swallowed. "The man said something about Adrian's… I don't know what it was exactly. A special project? There was some new assignment Adrian had to take care of." Emma's eyes opened wider in realization. "It’s the day after commencement. Adrian's next assignment is the day after commencement."

"Does Lucy know anything about this or is it just you?"

"No, Lucy couldn't be in on it. Lucy would never approve of what Adrian's doing."

"And you do? Emma, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

"Adrian is the one who knows the most about it. All I know is what I heard the man tell him. It was something about terminating relatives and starting families." Emma gulped.

I tried to keep my voice calm. “Tell me what you know. I won't tell him you told me."

"But he'll know!" Her forehead creased with panic. "He realized I overheard him and the man talking. He suspects I know." She swallowed. "I think that's why he's stopped talking to me."

"Terminating our relatives?" I groped with desperation for more information, trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces Emma presented to me. "Are you saying Adrian is killing off our relatives? It doesn’t make any sense, Emma. I saw his mother's obituary in there." And surely Adrian wouldn't kill my parents, right? But I didn't voice those concerns, afraid Emma would confirm them. "And what man was Adrian talking to? Is he the CEO?"

"I don't know!" Emma snapped. I drew back from her, startled. Emma's eyes burned into mine, as if she were trying to communicate information she was too afraid to say aloud. "I have no idea what the CEO looks like. Adrian is doing something involving our relatives, but he's planning more. He and the guy were talking about changing the future of CO. But it's not a future you'd want."

My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "But there's nothing to change. Marty told me CO takes in orphans.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Then why was your parents' obituary on Adrian's computer, with the date of death after you entered foster care? Why do you think Adrian never told you? I hate all the secrets. No one knows what actually happens.”

Hope rose within my chest. “Emma, do you ever wonder about... I don't know, quitting CO? All the secrets, all the lies. What if we gave it up?"

"If we don't get the executive position, we don't have a choice." Emma pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket. I thought she quit the habit months ago, but apparently not.

"I mean even if we did get executive, we could still leave. We could leave behind all this danger we're worried about.”

Emma lit her cigarette and closed her eyes. Smoke left her lungs, exhaled into the air like a prayer. "I'm not leaving CO."

My jaw dropped. "But I thought you were scared; I thought you were worried about what Adrian was doing and how he was deceiving everyone.”

Emma took another long drag from her cigarette. The hard lines of worry along her face relaxed. "I'm not scared. I am worried about what Adrian's doing. But CO is all I know. CO is our lives. Why would I leave willingly? They give us money, food, clothes, shelter, jobs. I'm lucky I'm a part of CO. Don't you get it? It's all we know."

"But if it wasn't all you knew..." Thoughts of the CIA drifted through my head. "What if there was another organization waiting for you to join when you left?”

Emma scowled. "What’s wrong with you? You applied for executive. Are you saying you've changed your mind and you're going to leave?"

"No, I'm not leaving." I regretted my choice of words. Emma gave me a wary eye, regarding my words with skepticism. Darn. I'd thought all of her worry about the secrets of CO would've meant she wanted to leave. But no, she wanted to keep her power while putting up with all the danger.

I gritted my teeth. Why couldn't she understand there was another way? I stood up. I checked the buttons of my chambray shirt, as if buttoning to the top lent some semblance of rare order to my life. "Let's meet Lucy."

The smoke from her cigarette followed me all the way to the cafe doors. I heard her flick the cigarette to the ground and stamp on it with her kitten heel.

Lucy waited for us outside, but tears streamed down her face. Emma ran up to her. She patted her back and made soothing sounds. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She held up her phone. I took it and read the e-mail on her screen out loud.

"Dear Ms. Hernandez, thank you so much for your interest in Covert Operatives. I regret to inform you we will not be able to accept your application as executive. I wish I were writing to report a different decision, but the competition was so rigorous this year that there were many outstanding young men and women to whom we could not offer places. Sincerely, Jack Waterman, Chief Executive Officer of Covert Operatives."

I stared back at Lucy, who seemed to be sobbing harder after I finished reading.

"I didn't make it," she rasped out. "I didn't make it!"

"The e-mails are out?" Emma patted Lucy's back with one hand and fished out her iPhone with the other. I watched her expression. Her eyebrows furrowed while she typed her password and checked her e-mail. Within seconds, a self-satisfied look plastered on her face.

Lucy watched too, and she sobbed harder when she saw Emma's expression. "I'm not good enough!" she wailed.

I gathered Lucy in my arms and brought her away from the café. We headed toward the exit of the Getty. "It's time to go home, Luce."

"It’s not my home anymore." Lucy threw herself against the wall of the outside veranda, the view of the Los Angeles hills behind her. "CO is my life! It's all I know."

Her words echoed Emma's so exactly, chills ran up my spine. The organization was all-consuming.

I grabbed Lucy again, afraid she would throw herself off the balcony if someone didn't hold her down. "It's going to be all right, Lucy. It's going to be all right."

I didn't check my phone until I'd already put Lucy to bed and made sure she was sleeping peacefully. I'd managed to calm her down somewhat, at least for the time being. Emma ran off somewhere after we'd arrived back at the headquarters, abandoning Lucy for who-knows-what.

I needed to clear my head, and there was no better way for me to do so than swimming. After gathering a towel, I headed toward the indoor pool past CO training rooms. I didn’t check my e-mail until I’d already pushed past the metal doors to the pool.

Congratulations, Covert Operatives is delighted to inform you...

I snapped my phone shut and set it down on my towel covering a plastic chair. Without a second thought, I dived into the water.

The coldness of the water shook me, telling me to move, move, move. I swam laps around the pool, all the while emptying my mind and refusing to allow myself to think about CO. There was me, the water, my body, and the motion of the wake around me. I focused on nothing else except moving faster and harder against the water.

I loved this feeling - the sensation of being in complete control. Even if everything else in my life turned to chaos, I could always count on feeling in command of my body.

But then the thoughts started floating in, unbidden and unwelcome.

You have been accepted as an Executive for Covert Operatives. Your training begins a week after your final mission as a member of the active service, September 8th. All executive training is personalized and you will have a private mentor guiding you through your first two months of transition.

I swam faster, pedaling my feet against the water.

I'm not leaving CO...

I'm doing all this to give you the future you wanted...

He's the man from Russia...

He's going to hurt you...

My arms suddenly gave out. I felt like I was drowning, the thoughts in my mind becoming too much for me to bear. Sudden panic gripped my body. I needed to get out the water, needed to breathe, needed to leave.

I pulled myself out of the pool and onto the tile floor. My chest heaved. I struggled to catch my breath, gasping for air as quick as I could.

A stomp of feet against tile slowed my gulps for oxygen. My breath hitched in my throat. Someone else was here.

"Hello?" I called out. Bluish-green light from the electric bulbs covered the pool, and shaking white light reflected off the pool and onto the walls. The stomping continued, but no shadows were to be seen.

"Who's there?" I stood up, my eyes darting around the room. "Adrian? Adrian, are you here?"

More footsteps. I ran after them, hearing the footsteps escape a yard or two in front. Heavy feet slammed against the carpet, running away from me. Someone who didn't want me to find them.

I had almost reached the main lobby before I’d noticed the other agents staring at the girl in the wet swimsuit who'd left sopping footprints behind her. The search was pointless by now. There were so many agents in the evening in the hallways. Any one of them could have been the person watching me.

I trudged back to the pool. All my belongings were still there, and no other wet footprints were on the tile except my own. Whoever watched me didn’t want to go swimming.

And didn’t want me to see them.

I shivered. Goosebumps formed on my flesh, encouraged by the cold air. I wrapped a baby-blue towel around me, all the while keeping an eye around the room as I left. No one was here now. But why had someone been watching me?

Who had been watching me?

I wrapped the towel tighter around my body, as if the towel's protection against the chill would give me protection against the world.

The light in the book store flickered on, even at midnight. I closed my eyes, praying the CIA had warned them in time. Neither Marge nor Tristan informed me how they were planning to sabotage the mission.

It was odd, suddenly experiencing fear before my missions. It wasn’t fear the CO had ever trained us for. Assassin organizations didn’t think about the fear of doing the wrong thing.

I swallowed hard as our van pulled up to the house. I flexed my right hand around the gun, prepared to sabotage the mission myself if necessary. No more innocents would be killed under my watch.

Tag-teaming a mission was rare, but it happened occasionally. There were three targets hiding out together this time, so the mission required four agents instead of the customary two. Lucy and Emma sat across from me equipped with the laser guns Marty recently put into effect, while I was carrying my favorite shotgun and Adrian gripped his trusty soundless shooter.

He narrowed his eyes at the light, as put off by it as I was. Were they still inside?

"The executive said they'd be asleep. They always sleep at the back of the bookstore." Lucy gulped, her fingers rested on the barrel of her laser gun like a good CO agent. She brushed a stray lock behind her ear. "Why are they still awake?"

“They could have just left one of the lights on.”

"I'll go in through the front." I inclined my head. "Lucy, Emma, you guys take the back."

“No way. I want the front,” Emma challenged.

Adrian shot a warning look at her. “Just listen to Jane.”

Her mouth opened as if to protest, but she seemed to think better of it and pressed her lips together. She turned her glare from Adrian to me. "I don't remember her being in charge of this mission." There we were, back to being enemies again. So much for tentative friends.

Adrian remained silent and pointed to Lucy and Emma. He hitched his thumb behind his shoulder, commanding them to follow my orders. Emma and Lucy scurried in their assigned direction while Adrian and I waited behind the car.

"Back me up," I whispered to him. I crept out from the safety of the car, keeping my footsteps as light as possible and the shotgun aimed in front of me. The light from the bookstore was on, but no one was inside. At least not from what I could see in the front. I kicked the door open, and the wood landed with a compliant thud. I scurried inside and heard Adrian's footsteps trail my own.

I raced forward toward the back of the bookstore. My gun whirled around my surroundings, ready to aim and shoot. He caught up with me within seconds. I plastered on an expression of mock disappointment.

"No one's here."

"It’s like someone told them we were coming."

I snatched a gaze in his direction, but he wasn’t looking at me. I suppressed the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. He spun his gun in his hand in a fit of nervous energy, ready to fire but with nothing to fire at.

"Let's get Lucy and Em…”

A scream cut me off.

Adrian kicked down the back door within seconds of the cry. I raced behind him to the parking lot behind the store. My gaze jumped from the FBI agent with a gun pointed to Emma's head to Lucy face down on the ground with blood oozing from her shoulder, to the three other FBI agents backing up the one who aimed at Emma.

Suddenly, Adrian’s artillery fire cut down the man holding Emma and another FBI agent within moments. The large weight of an FBI agent pushed against my back. I slammed the man to the ground with a combination of Judo and Sambo. Another man punched my gullet, and for a moment I collapsed to the floor. His fist collided with cement as I rolled away in time. I kicked his groin. He groaned, falling to his knees.

"Kill him!" Emma screamed.

Within moments, my fist punched the nape of his neck and slammed his unconscious body to the floor. I pulled out my shotgun and aimed it at him. The lolling of his head against the ground looked so pathetic, I felt like I was about to murder the same baby I'd killed on the last mission. They were defenseless and no match for me.

What had this FBI agent done except followed orders? Tried to round up a CO agent or two to bring back to the station to be another spy?

I drew in a quick intake of breath, the shotgun trembling in my hand. How could I have been so stupid? I forgot to warn Marge and Tristan about how some missions were handled by tag-teams. Four CO agents against four FBI agents? The effort was like eating cake.

"Shoot him!"

My finger rested on the trigger. But the gun shook in my unsteady hand. It was like a blind man shooting at a miniature target he'd had no experience with. If I shot the man now, it would be unclean. It would have to take several bullets. He'd wake up, he'd be in pain, and he’d be suffering for something he didn't deserve to suffer for and...

BANG.

A bullet punctured the man’s chest.

Yet my barrel remained cool, my trigger untouched. I stepped back in shock and peered up from the body to make eye contact with my partner.

Adrian stood over the lifeless corpse. He spun the gun in his hand again, cooling off the warm barrel from the force of his shot.

Emma cursed at me. Spit literally flew into the air with the force of her swearing. She picked up Lucy and stormed toward the car, all the while muttering insults under her breath.

Adrian reached out toward me. His rough, calloused hand pulled me to my feet. I leaned against him, embarrassed and relieved and clutching the cold shotgun with a shaking hand. He didn't say a word, just supported my weight as we started back toward the car with the blue light guiding us to the private runway.

No one said anything until we reached the plane. Emma approached the blue light first, Lucy in tow. She pressed the blue light on the door of the plane. After the customary eye scan and fingerprint test, the door allowed her and Lucy to pass through. Adrian and I did the same.

He rushed to the pilot as soon as we boarded. “We need to hurry back. One of our operatives needs medical attention as soon as possible.”

It was only after the pilot began preparing for takeoff back to California and radioed the headquarters to prepare medical help that Adrian took my hand again. He guided me to the back of the plane's seats.

I heard the roar of the jumbo high-speed jets of the CO-operated plane being activated. Yep, the speed was illegal. If any air traffic spotted us they’d try to flag us down, but activating the jets meant we’d get to California in less than an hour. The law was simply a guideline for CO agents.

Emma applied pressure to Lucy’s wound while I searched the plane with desperation for more medical equipment. There was none to be found. All we could do for her was settle back into our seats and hope we’d get to California as fast as possible.

“Jane,” Adrian’s low voice shook me out of my thoughts and back into his arms. “Why?”

He didn’t need to finish the rest of the question. I already knew the possibilities: Why didn’t I shoot the FBI agent? Why wasn’t our target there? Why were there four FBI agents?

I choked down the anxiety rising in my chest. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His murmur brushed past my ear, but each word punctuated enough force to be a standalone sentence.

I dropped his hand. “I was just startled from losing the contract. It won’t happen again.” Still, my palms sweated at the thought of having to kill another innocent person. Another CO agent’s parents. Another innocent mother and her child.

Adrian didn’t respond. The dismissal of skepticism filled his eyes. He held me against him instead of pressing me for further information.

Unshakeable worry tugged at the corner of my mind. His silence spoke volumes. There was something being destroyed in our relationship, some bridge of trust which had existed before and was starting to give way under the weight of the secrets we kept from one another.

“I got executive,” I whispered to him.

The corner of his mouth curved upward. An “I-Told-You-So” look entered his blue orbs. “I got CEO.”

“I thought you had training coming up first.”

“After the training is over for a few years, I take over.” He shed a self-satisfied smile, and all tension from the botched mission disintegrated around us. He was so handsome, with his lightly tanned skin and the sparkle in his eyes and the perfect curve of his jaw. There was something strong and charming in his expression at all times, but especially when he smiled at me. “I have a few more missions on my own to complete, but then I’ll be in charge. The future’s set for us.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“I’ll make sure you get the future you want.”

I sighed. Emma’s words from the other day haunted me. “I need to ask you something.”

“She’s lost consciousness! She’s lost consciousness!” Emma screamed from the front of the plane. We rushed back. Lucy’s body rolled back against her seat, her eyes squeezed shut. The external bleeding had stopped, but internal bleeding couldn’t be calculated yet. Her chest rose and fell with only a minimal movement. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

For the rest of the plane ride, we watched Lucy. Adrian tried a South Asian technique he’d learned to increase the amount of air entering someone’s lungs. Emma cleaned up the drying blood from Lucy’s body, while I held Lucy’s hand and took her pulse. The beat of life weakened in her wrist.

We rushed out of the plane the moment it landed. Adrian carried Lucy out in his arms, her limp body nearly lifeless as we entered the headquarters. Scientists and paramedics swarmed around her. They carried her away to the hospital and whisked Adrian, Emma, and I into separate rooms for questioning.

When I finally left the headquarters and headed back to my apartment, it was nearly three in the morning. I entered the elevator in a drowsy haze. Bright pink from a large flyer on the wall of the elevator caught my eye. The poster advertised an event happening the next day.

Masquerade.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the years of service all of you loyal and dedicated Covert Operatives agents have pledged to us in missions. We would also like to recognize the many more years of service some of you look forward to as executives. I am sure you all think you’ve been in school for long enough,” Marty laughed behind the podium. The small ornament of a gun-shaped tassel dangled from his hat as he shook with excitement. “I am so proud of this year’s graduating class of Covert Operatives agents, and I hope all of you will cherish the time you have spent with us. I pronounce you graduated!”

There was a huge roar of applause from the agents. Mini confetti canons blew colorful streamers into the air from both sides of the stage. The view of LA from the window behind the stage was breathtaking as the sun set, adding to the mood of celebration and festivity. Christmas lights twinkled from the Griffith Observatory on the right of the stage, offering Covert Operatives’ Class of 2013 their own special congratulations.

“At this point, we would like to especially congratulate this year’s emerging executives. May we please call to the stage: Jenna Alaric, Jane Lu, Hilary Dunforth, Benjamin Clark, Michael Jacobs, Dave Payne, Emma Vanderbilt, and Mark Walden. Welcome again to the Covert Operatives family. Please give these talented individuals a round of applause.”

I strode to the stage, my white graduation robes dragging against the grass outside of Griffith Observatory. I stopped next to Jenna on the podium and spun around to face the crowd draped in ivory colored robes. Nearly all members of the Class of 2017 sat before us. Behind them were other classes of agents who’d decided to attend the commencement, agents who’d come for the dance afterward, and executives who attended to add dignity and solemnity to the occasion.

I spotted the open seat among the graduates. The bright white plastic chair shone between the sea of black robes as a haunting reminder of yesterday’s mission. Lucy was still being treated, and her wounds were being assessed. None of the doctors told me her exact condition, but they assured me she’d be all right in a few weeks. She didn’t deserve to be hurt.

I gazed back at the crowd, hearing their compliments but not feeling worthy of such congratulations at all. Here was a class of highly-trained murder machines programmed to show no mercy when money was involved. And here I was, one of those who organized who they killed and how. Which of us was guiltier?

“I also have another special announcement to make.” Marty adjusted the reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Among CO’s Class of 2017, it gives me great pleasure to announce we have a next-in-line Chief Executive Officer in our midst.”

Whispers passed over the crowd. Marty paused for dramatic effect, mirth shining in his eyes. He cleared his throat, then yelled, “Adrian King!”

Thunderous applause accompanied Adrian’s journey to the stage. His black robe, barely floating in the faint breeze, hid his shoes and gave him the appearance of gliding above the ground.

Marty stepped away from the podium so Adrian could stand behind it. He grabbed the microphone and walked to the front of the stage. Adrian held up his hands to finally quiet the applause, then flashed the crowd his mega-watt grin. Girls batted their eyelashes and guys tried to memorize how to do their hair the same way as him.

“Agents, I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am to be serving as your leader in the future. But I want to be clear: There is no such thing as a successful agency without successful agents. I may be your next CEO, but this company is about you.” He sauntered across the stage, pointing at random spectators. “I want this company to serve your needs and make you feel safe. You put in so much hard work for CO, and it is time you were rewarded. You want more stability in your life; you want more peace.” He shook his head. “Many of you may have heard of yesterday’s failed mission and Lucy Hernandez’s injury. I can’t even begin to tell you how saddened I am over my friend’s critical condition. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again.”

Adrian’s back faced me, but I knew at who his next words were aimed. “I know some of you put aside other plans you had for the future in order to stay with CO. We all make sacrifices for this company, including me. I will not let you down. We are taking CO in a new direction under my leadership. I need your support.”

The crowd murmured with agreement as he held them spellbound.

“Why, you ask?” Adrian pumped his fist into the air. “Because the success of CO depends on you! The agents, the executives, the alumni. Our success depends on your contributions.”

Another roar of applause followed as he finally set the microphone back in the stand. Chills ran up and down my spine when he turned around to stare right at me. Something in his gaze searched for affirmation.

His words echoed inside my head until the dance started. The robes were discarded, and I changed into my black body-con dress. Adrian shielded my bare arms with his tuxedo jacket and guided me away from the dance floor. We walked behind the observatory, next to the balcony where telescopes aimed at the LA cityscape.

His arm snaked around my waist, and the inky black of my dress blended against the black of his jacket and pants.

I wasn’t sure how to bring up all my questions, exactly. I couldn’t just bombard him with information. He’d back away like a scared deer!

I twisted my mouth to the corner as I regarded his fixed gaze on the cityscape. No, there needed to be tact. I had to do this with poise. I had to be calm—

“Look, I know you don’t want to tell me anything and you’re being all secretive and stuff, but I need to know what you have planned, Adrian, because I’m starting to get freakin’ worried about what you’re keeping secret from me!”

Okay. Less tact than I’d wanted. A lot less.

Adrian raised an eyebrow, but didn’t answer right away. He pointed at the twinkling lights of Los Angeles, the nighttime view which never failed to amaze me each time I visited the Griffith. “You see all those lights?”

I suppressed the urge to tap my foot in impatience. Of course Adrian answered my panicky question with another one of his philosophical answers. “Yes, I see them.”

“They’re all people. People without our skills, training, or resources. They don’t have anything we have. They have literally no advantage over us, except in one way.”

“What?”

“Family.” Adrian continued to study the cityscape. His eyes misted over into some glazed prediction of the future. “Remember the night on the dock? You said you wanted kids and a family. I can make your dream happen.”

I blinked. He wasn’t talking about any future; he was talking about our future.

His words tumbled out faster and faster, snowballing with the confident smoothness of a politician but the nervous enthusiasm of a scientist on the brink of a discovery. “Covert Operatives possesses a major problem I need to address.”

“What is it?”

“A lack of stability. People don’t feel safe. They don’t feel secure. They think a family will give them security. And that’s what we’ll give them.”

“CO’s model is based around orphans and taking in kids from the streets. Kids who have nowhere else to go, who are at the mercy of society and government funds. Those are the kids given a second chance by CO.”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way!” His eyes lit up. He grabbed my shoulders with a sudden fierceness, and I almost fell over from the jolt. “We can’t afford to be stuck in the past in the 21^st century. I will re-structure CO to be based around families. Agents getting married and having kids and building loyalties to CO which last generations. Kids will be ever more trained and loyal to the company, because their parents will be. It’s perfect, don’t you see? We’re building company loyalty and giving people the security they crave.”

I shoved off Adrian’s arms like the touch burned me. My boyfriend was a madman. How could he not see how skewed his logic was? “Taking in orphans and kids from the street is the only redeeming part of CO, Adrian! They’re helping kids in terrible foster homes, kids like you and I. Why would you take away the sole redeeming quality of CO?”

Adrian shook his head. “It’s a business. You don’t understand business.”

My voice raised, and my hand almost did too—to slap him right across the face and knock some sense into his system. “Family doesn’t work for CO. We exist in an industry with no room for divided loyalties.”

“Their loyalties will lie with CO.”

“You can’t know that! These are the lives of people. You can’t control others.”

“No force is needed. People will do this on their own.”

“And if they don’t?”

Adrian rubbed his lower jaw and averted my gaze.

“You’re not a god, Adrian. Orphans and kids with parents who abandoned them – they’re not goods to be traded and sold!”

“No one’s calling them goods to be sold and I never called myself a god.” His eyes flashed in anger and his voice stretched tight. “You don’t get it. I’d be preventing deaths. The current model we have right now…” He stopped suddenly. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I am not a child!” Anger burst through my tone. “I’m your girlfriend and your best friend, and you need to tell me what is going on.”

“Not all the kids are orphans.” He moved away from the cityscape and away from my searching look. “Some are, but some have parents who look for them later.”

“The woman and man on the computer were my parents.” I leaned against the balcony for support. Before continuing, I took a deep breath. “What happened to them?”

“They were killed.” His voice stayed flat. “They were murdered by CO agents.”

The awful cry in the air, escaping from my throat, sounded bestial instead of human. It was a sound between a sob and a gasp. He knew all this time, and he didn’t care. “How do you know?”

“Because part of my special missions include making sure all the existing parents are dead.”

“And if they’re not?”

“Exterminate them myself.”

“You never told me.”

Adrian pressed his lips together. I trembled to imagine how much else he kept hidden.

“How many parents?” My voice sounded hollow to my ears.

“Twelve, maybe. The last one was last year, in Russia. One of the CO agents was the illegitimate son of a CIA agent, and he was asking questions about where his son was. He was the one who introduced the CIA to CO. I killed him, no problem. His girlfriend tried to get in the way so I killed her too.” Adrian’s whole body tensed. “Then his partner tried to kill me. He got away, but no doubt left with his partner’s information about CO.”

I swallowed hard. My fists gripped the balcony rail for dear life. “What about my parents?”

“No, I didn’t kill yours.”

An unexpected wave of relief washed over me. I knew, in the back of my mind, I should have focused on how he killed twelve innocent parents. Yet I couldn’t suppress the supreme comfort in knowing he hadn’t hurt mine. At least he didn’t kill mine.

“Adrian, where are your parents?”

“Mother’s dead.”

I moved toward him, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and embraced him with as much tenderness as I could.

“I want you to be honest with me, Janey.”

“Always,” I lied. “But why? Why are you doing all this to be CEO? What does it matter?”

He pulled away. Shock and disbelief stared back at me. I felt him slipping away, like a tether between us had been severed with my last two questions.

“What is this about? Is this about power?”

“What…” He ran a hand over his nose, his mouth, down his chin. “This is about working hard for something. This is about me working hard to give you the future you want!” He grabbed my wrists. I struggled to inch away from him, but he held me in place.

“You think this is easy?” He gritted his teeth. “You think it’s easy for me to kill people every day and keep information from you to keep you safe? I’m doing all this for us. I’m doing this to protect you.”

I stopped struggling. My body slumped in his arms, nearly as lifeless as Lucy’s the day before. “You sure made it sound easy during your speech today.”

He scoffed. “It was politics, Janey. Trying to win over people and get them to respect me so when I do come into power they trust me.”

“And how am I supposed to trust you?” The cold night air whipped in my face. A sudden gust of wind loosened the curls from my bun and the tendrils whirled around me. “Politics? Coming into power? This isn’t you.”

“This is me. This is me now.”

I shook my head. “You’re not the same Adrian I met all those years ago. Maybe we’ve changed. Maybe it’s time for us to…” But I couldn’t finish my sentence. “You told me you didn’t care whether I was in CO anymore; you said we’d stay together.”

“But none of it matters anymore. You’re an executive; I’m CEO.” Adrian fumbled for words as his cool exterior crumbled. “Don’t you get it? We’re going to take over CO. We’ll be so powerful together.”

“This isn’t us. We used to be closer,” I murmured. “This relationship used to be something I missed.”

“Jane...” His voice faltered. “Janey, you don’t mean it.”

“No. I do. You have me in these…” I stared down at his hands around mine. “Chains! You have me chained to you. Just like you’re planning to chain agents to CO for their entire lives.”

Adrian dropped his hands. How many times had he clutched me and then let me go, like he was afraid of his own strength?

His voice was quiet. “Don’t do this. Not again.”

Tears trailed down my cheeks like a vision of my future with Adrian: only downhill from here.

I tried to tell him with a look, tried to express my guilt and desperate need to make him understand. Espionage or no espionage, this wasn’t working. Something was breaking. I couldn’t bring myself to put it into words; I wanted him to understand through my gaze.

But either he wasn’t trying to interpret it or he refused to accept it, because he kept shaking his head and whispering things like, “We’re going to keep trying,” “We have to try to make this work,” “I’ll try harder,” “Don’t give up, just try.” I felt overwhelmed by the apologies.

When was I allowed to give up?

“Remember how it felt when we reunited? When I saw you, and you saw me. You missed us.” Adrian ran his hands up and down my arms, but I inclined my cheek away before he could try to kiss me. “Jane!” He broke away from me and kicked a trash can next to us, denting the metal inward and forever destroying the shape of the can.

But it wasn’t enough. He picked up the trash can and threw it over the balcony, sending the tin crashing down the hill. He searched for something else to dent, to throw over his shoulder and destroy. But the only other object around him was me.

“You frighten me,” I whispered. The wind whipped so loud around us, I wasn’t sure if he heard me. Someone had turned up the music from the dance floor. The song was sorrowful, as if commemorating a death.

“It’s so hard now. It’s difficult all the time. Love isn’t supposed to be like this! All we do anymore is accuse each other and argue.”

“Look, you’re tired. I get it. I told you a lot of information and you’re not sure how to feel about it.” He shushed my attempts at a reply. “Think about what I said, don’t get back to me yet.” He backed away, like he was afraid of what I’d say if he stayed longer. “I’m going back to the headquarters.”

“Adrian, this isn’t…” But he’d already left before I could get another word out.

I stood there alone, staring out at the LA city skyline. There was nothing more beautiful in the world than looking at LA nights from the Griffith Observatory.

And the most beautiful spot in the world had been ruined.

I shivered as another cool gust of air attacked my shoulders. I drew Adrian’s coat closer around me. We’d joke about spending our lives with CO when we were kids, but those days were before there’d been anything romantic between us at all. We were no more than partners for CO then, friends from the same foster home, linked by a hatred of foster parents and a love for excitement. But we hadn’t wanted power. We hadn’t demanded control over others.

I need to get away from here. I needed to leave. The sudden sounds of the music rising in volume again spurred me into action. I raced down the hill of the Griffith Observatory, past the mountain hiking path. I ran till I was out of earshot of the music, until the few sounds I could hear were the crickets and the sound of my own hard panting and my furious heart beating.

I shut my eyes. The full moon bathed me in purifying rays. If only there was a way to erase my memory at this point, I thought with bitterness. If only there was a way to float along a ray of the moon and return innocent, without having the history of killing others or failing in a relationship or espionage. If only it would all stop and allow me to start over.

“Left the party early?”

I jumped, almost screaming. I calmed myself at the last moment, my hand pressed over my thumping chest as I stared at Tristan with wide eyes. “How did you find me?”

He pointed to my rubber band. My eyes widened. I felt for it, realization washing over me. My hair fell in wild waves around my face as soon as I threw the rubber band to the dirt floor. The breeze was less fierce here near the base of the hill. My dark tresses swayed against the wind and formed a curtain around my vision of Tristan.

He clucked his tongue. “Now, now, that’s not going to help anyone.” He tucked his hands behind his back as he walked toward me. “What news do you have?”

“You hurt my best friend.”

He winced. “Yeah, heard one of them was shot. Definitely not my fault. I told them to go easy, but you guys got away anyway. At least we got the targets out of the way.”

“Who were they?”

“Mother, father, daughter. All next in line for a family fortune another younger brother wants dead. Younger brother’s facing an investigation while the mother, father, and daughter are somewhere safe.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d done something right. I bit my lip as another thought crossed my mind. And sent my best friend into a critical condition in the process.

“Just guarantee me none of the CO agents are hurt in future missions.”

“No can do.”

I glared at Tristan. “They’re your men. Why not?”

“CO agents are murderers without a cause, kid. Murderers who kill others for no reason don’t deserve to live. You defected; they didn’t.”

“You’re wrong. They have a cause. It’s what they’ve been trained to do. It’s what they’ve been told to do.”

His tone remained nonchalant. “So they’re brainwashed.” He shrugged, and my fists clenched.

“No, they’re not brainwashed. They worked hard to train; they put so much effort and energy into exceling at their job. They just want to stay safe and keep the CO agents they care about safe.” Adrian’s speech somehow entered mine, unbidden but true. My voice gained strength, and I lifted my chin with defiance. “I’ll give you the information you want to know about CO. I believe CO should be destroyed. But you have to understand why they kill. They don’t kill without a purpose. No one does.”

Tristan stared at me for a few minutes. He seemed to be considering my words. After a few beats of silence, he spoke again. “Executive?”

“Got it. Training starts after my birthday.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s going to take a while.”

“All right. I’ll meet you about it soon enough. In the meantime…” He walked closer to me until our faces were inches apart. “You can tell me the news you know about Adrian’s plans. What does he have in mind for CO?”

“He wants to start families for CO members. Parents will give stability to their kids and encourage them to kill. Or so he hopes, anyway.”

Tristan nodded. “Did he say if he was still keeping the assassins under eighteen?”

“I assume so.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“You look sad. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Well, our relationship is in turbulence. I told him he had me in chains; he has a newfound power complex; I’m wearing his tuxedo jacket. Somehow, I didn’t think those were the kind of thoughts Central Intelligence wanted to hear.

“I’ve told you all I have for now.”

Tristan pressed his lips together. “There’s something else I need to know.”

“What is it?” I shivered in the cold even beneath Adrian’s jacket. Images of a warm bath entered my mind, turning on my heater, maybe watch reruns of a 90’s historical drama…

“How do you feel about our relationship?”

I raised an eyebrow. “We work well together. I’m grateful you’re around.” Was there a right answer to this question?

“I’m glad I’m around too.” His voice sounded like a rasp rather than his usual flirty retort. “I’ve never met any girl like you.”

I searched for his sign of approval at my report for the CIA. His line of vision narrowed at my lips. My breath quickened. “Tristan, everything all right?”

“Everything’s perfect.” He leaned toward me and cupped my cheek. Before I could process the reality of the situation, his chapped lips collided against mine. He entangled his fingers in my hair as he continued to crash-land on my mouth without warning.

I pushed him away. My breath came out in ragged gasps. What on earth was he doing?

The sound of a twig snapping turned my attention away from the desire-driven gaze of Tristan to the source of the sound. A figure stepped out from behind a tree – the last person I wanted to see right then.

“No, it’s not what you think.” I shook my head. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“You!” Tristan launched himself at the figure, but the man picked up the CIA agent and threw him against the tree trunk. Tristan’s unconscious body slumped against the base of the tree.

Punches and kicks of rage flew through the air. Groans accompanied the sound of blows pounding against flesh. A stream of blood leaked from Tristan’s shoulder, the same place Lucy’s injury lay.

“Stop! Stop this!”

Adrian spun around and narrowed his eyes at me. His fists clenched in unbridled fury and Tristan’s blood covered his right fist.

“Is this the reason you were trying to break up with me?” He spat at the ground. "Is this why you said we’re not good for each other anymore? You’re good with him?” Adrian punched Tristan again at the last him, as if he could push out Tristan from existence with his blows.

I placed myself between them. I pressed my hands against Adrian’s chest, covered in the crisp oxford shirt. “Don’t do this. He’s done nothing to harm you.”

“He kissed you.” The possessiveness in Adrian’s voice startled me. I’d never seen him so provoked by jealousy before. “This is why you left the dance. This is why you wanted to leave me.” He threw out the sentences like statements of fact before I could convince him otherwise.

“Why did you follow me?”

“I was worried about you.” He shook with anger. There was something oddly vulnerable in his eyes even while one fist remained covered in blood and the other stayed clenched. “The hill isn’t safe at night! Then I finally find you, and you were…”

Oh no. He knew. He heard everything and he knew and I was dead. Alarm bells rang in my head.

I prepared myself for another emotional blow. But none came.

“You were kissing him!”

I blinked. He hadn’t heard me revealing information about the missions; he’d seen me kissing Tristan!

I tried to keep my voice as light as possible. “Adrian, we need to talk about this.”

“You were right. We used to be closer than this.” Adrian swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “We’re done. You cheated on me. I was so… I did it all for you. I did it all for us! And you’ve been cheating on me.”

“I haven’t!”

Adrian shook his head. His look burned into my soul. It was a glare of complete and utter disgust.

The knife wound? Nothing compared to the feeling of being loathed by Adrian King. I would take a million stabbings any day over the chest-crushing feeling of Adrian’s disgust.

He walked away from me, leaving Tristan slumped on the ground and me to remain in my regret.

CHAPTER SEVEN