“Twice in one week, are you okay?”
Sasha had ditched the wig and the housewife clothes, and sat in a café drinking coffee before heading back to Richter. With her phone to her ear, she watched Berlin’s rush hour traffic from a curbside table.
“Are you a dad yet?”
Reed released a sigh. “Obviously you’re fine.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“W-what? You need me to do something for you?”
“Was I unclear?” She knew he was being facetious.
“Name it. Although we already have baby names picked out.”
That made her smile. Imagine if someone cared enough about her to name their child after her? Yeah, not in this lifetime.
“AJ Hofmann might contact you in the next few days and ask a question or need help.”
“I’m here.”
No questions asked. One of the many things she liked about Reed.
“Anything else?”
A tickle on her neck had her on edge. “Geoff Pohl. I need to know who this man works for and if there are any red flags.”
“You got it.”
Again, no questions.
“I’m in Germany. Spending time with the people who . . .” raised me. “The Internet isn’t secure there or I wouldn’t ask.”
“I’m glad I can do something for you for once.”
“Take care of your wife,” she told him before hanging up.
“You ready for this?” Brigitte asked on the sidelines of the obstacle course. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, as was Sasha’s. They were both dressed for the race that they would do as a team. The skies decided to open up enough to make everything soggy and that much more difficult. The two of them would need to work together in order to tackle some of the steeper terrain. Only the last two obstacles would be taken on solo, making the last eight hundred meters a true race.
“I’m ready, the question is, Are you?” Sasha lifted her chin in good humor.
“You always were cocky.”
Brigitte directed her attention to her students. In the mix, Sasha noticed the kid she’d delivered a fair amount of humiliation to the first day she’d been back, and Claire, who bounced on the tips of her toes with untapped energy. “Listen up.” Brigitte demanded everyone’s attention. “You’ve been paired with the student who came in closest to you on our last run. The only way to be paired with someone faster and stronger is if you overtake a teammate on the last eight hundred meters. The rules have not changed. You will not sabotage anyone’s efforts. The goal here is for your best time, not you’re better because the front-runner was tripped. You will wait for your partner through the slippery wall and the vertical rope climb. Officials are watching.”
“And if our partner taps out?” one of her male students asked.
“Then you better hope someone is held up by their partner and lends you a hand, Mr. Norton.”
Brigitte stepped closer, spoke louder. “I want you tired, wet, muddy, scraped, and even a little bloody, but I want none of you broken. You are no good to anyone broken. Am I clear?”
A chorus of “Yes, Ms. Denenberg” came from the students.
“Are you really running with us?” one of the girls asked.
Brigitte glanced at Sasha. “Miss Budanov holds the record at Richter, and none of you have come close to it. She wants to see how her skills have held up in the years she’s been away.”
“It’s not her you should be worried about.” The comment came from Claire.
The other students made surprised sounds and took a step away from the girl.
Brigitte let the comment roll off her shoulders. “We shall see.”
Sasha and Brigitte took their places on the starting line. Timers pinned to their waistbands would keep track of their time at each point along the way. Much like those running a marathon, knowing your time between the miles always gave you a sense of your weaknesses and strengths.
A familiar buzz of excitement ran up Sasha’s spine. Not that she needed to prove herself to the students, or even her previous instructor . . . but to herself. She’d had many opportunities to run races like these since she left Richter. Each time she ran under an alias and never collected the participation medals. She competed for herself, not to win recognition, so when she found herself up on the competition, she purposely hung back. The last thing she needed to do was win one of the damn things and end up on a stage somewhere.
Here she could push herself, see if she truly did continue to hold the record.
Around her, partners bumped fists while others tossed barbs at their classmates.
Sasha leaned in close. “You know if we lag behind, you’ll never live it down.”
Brigitte narrowed her eyes. “You just move that skinny ass. I’ll take care of mine.”
A genuine laugh escaped Sasha’s throat.
With one of Brigitte’s instructors starting the race, a blank was fired in the air, and everyone took off running.
If there was a strategy to these kinds of things, it was to haul ass on the places you excelled to give yourself a little more time on the obstacles you struggled with. It was the team aspect of the race that held Sasha back. Speed and balance were her superpowers, with agility and strength as decent runners-up. Working a teammate up a wall, or more importantly, waiting for them to come around the bend, was a struggle.
Sasha hit the course hard and fast. Brigitte was with her, along with three other teams, each posturing for the first set of ropes.
She jumped high, tangled one leg around the thick rope, and pulled herself up the slippery length.
Making a point of not looking around, Sasha only took in the sounds of the others in the race. Someone slid down, cussing as he went, while the heavy breathing of others told her she wasn’t alone.
Once at the top of the rope, she heaved one hand onto the mesh of ropes she needed to master and climb on top of in order to get back onto the ground.
While her body was taking the ropes with ease, already Sasha felt the burn on her palms. The calluses she’d developed while in school had faded. Gloves were never an option at Richter. But she could sure use them right now.
Once her feet were on the ground, thoughts of her hands disappeared as she sprinted toward the next hurdle, a series of three-and-a-half-foot walls with pits of water on the other side. The goal was to launch herself off the wall and to the other side of the water pit or risk the wetness slowing her down. She’d nearly made all five of them, but the wet ground tripped up her landing and one leg went into the water.
Sasha cussed her slip but didn’t slow down.
Footsteps pounded around her, whose she didn’t know. She hoped one was Brigitte, because the slippery wall was up next.
The wall sat at a steep angle with a mud pit at the bottom. There was no way to avoid it. Sasha sprinted toward the wall.
Brigitte yelled from only a few feet behind her. “I’m right behind you.”
Sasha launched into the mud pit, each foot sledged through twice. She caught the first hand pull, found a solid spot to place her feet, and heaved up one more arm’s length before reaching down for Brigitte.
The older woman slapped her hand up Sasha’s forearm, and all her energy was spent pulling her up. It took both of them to get up the wall.
Two teams were right there with them, keeping pace.
At the top, the same mud that made it hard to get up the wall aided them in sliding down the other side.
And it was race time again. They crawled under barbwire and ate mud as they moved.
A long series of monkey bars strained every muscle and reminded Sasha she needed to spend more time on the face of a mountain. The rock climb, where if your partner was anywhere close, you gave them a hand.
Running in water, mud as it stood, since the rain was coming down in soft sheets.
Her muscles were screaming, heart pounding, and adrenaline washing through her with abandon. God, it felt good. The last obstacle was a vertical wall where a partner needed to give you a foothold and then grab you at the top. Then it was home free.
Sasha called behind her. “Brigitte?”
She heard footsteps but not a voice.
Sasha stopped at the wall, placed her back to it, and cupped her hands. If her partner was there, she’d jump right into them and climb up. Only Brigitte was several yards behind. Right on her heels was Claire. No sign of her partner.
Covered in mud, Brigitte stepped into Sasha’s hands and hurled herself up. The woman had more upper body strength than Sasha and took little time giving her the lift she needed to get on top of the wall.
Claire was on them, turning in search of her partner.
Brigitte looked at the crowd of kids coming. “I don’t see him.”
“Damn it!” Claire yelled.
Sasha and Brigitte looked at each other, and both reached down at the same time. “C’mon.”
Claire took a step back and jumped. They caught her arms and pulled her over.
Now the race really began.
Run the logs with a small guide rope for balance. A wall of tires, up one side and down the other, and if your arms hadn’t given out on you, the last section was a vertical rope draped over water that you needed to hang on, hand over hand, foot over foot, to reach the other side.
Then the final sprint.
She hit the ground and rolled after the final challenge and came up on her feet. Covered in mud and drenched in excitement, Sasha took off.
There were others close by. She was pretty sure Claire and Brigitte were in the mix but wasn’t about to look and find out. Not that she’d recognize anyone with just a glance at this point. With the finish line in view, Sasha pumped her arms harder, moved her legs faster. The second she crossed the line, the electronic scoreboard listed the names and times.
Sasha ran straight through the line, giving her body several yards to slow down.
Her breath came in pants, her chest sucked in every breath with serious effort. If she wasn’t covered in mud, she’d be able to feel the sweat rolling off her, but the dirt kept that from happening. Around her, students were stopping, hands on knees, pats on backs.
She looked up, saw the finishing times.
She was nearly a minute and a half behind her best personal record.
Not bad.
The name that beat her was Claire, by less than a second. She stood in the crowd, accepting the praise of her classmates.
Brigitte came in third.
Times pinged on the board as the last of the kids crossed the line.
Breathing hard, Brigitte walked up to Claire and patted the girl on the back. “You PR’d by twenty seconds.”
She grinned ear to ear. “I’m stoked.”
Brigitte then turned to Sasha. “And I’m a little pissed you beat me.”
The class laughed.
Someone started clapping, a slow, steady noise.
Everyone turned toward the spectator.
A familiar tingle ran down Sasha’s back.
Mr. Pohl stood under an umbrella, a long coat covering what Sasha assumed was a suit. His dress shoes took on a fair share of mud.
“Well done, Miss Budanov.”
Her smile faded. “Thank you.”
“You’ve obviously not lost your touch.”
Brigitte walked past Sasha and stood in front of the man. “Mr. Pohl, how unexpected to see you out here.”
“I thought it was in everyone’s best interest that I stop in from time to time.” The man looked past Brigitte and focused on Claire. “And who is this rising star?”
“A high school senior,” Brigitte told him, not giving him an introduction. “She has a lot to learn.”
Geoff Pohl smiled and returned his focus to Sasha. “I’ll be in touch.”
He walked away.
Claire moved in behind them. “Who was that?”
Brigitte turned around, her smile a little too bright, her eyes too wide. “No one you need to know. Now go hit the gym showers. No need to track this mud into the dorms.” She lifted her voice. “Anyone with cuts, scrapes, or anything else, report to the nurse after you’re clean. Well done, guys.”
The kids slowly peeled away, leaving only Brigitte and Sasha.
“That was more fun than I remembered.”
“You’re a sadist, Sasha,” Brigitte said with a laugh.
Sasha started to walk away.
“Hold up.”
She paused.
“Geoff is here for you, isn’t he?”
“Linette said he might have employment for me. Something to challenge me.”
Brigitte’s lips went in a straight line.
“You don’t approve,” Sasha said after several seconds of silence.
“It isn’t for me to approve or disapprove.” Their eyes finally met. “His challenges come with a stiff price, Sasha. Know exactly what you’re saying yes to before you do.” Without anything else, Brigitte left her standing in the drizzle.