Amy’s Second Attack
Introduction:
The continuation of Amy’s Rape
Oh, and it’s a story, as in not real. Constructive criticisms are always welcome.
Amy’s second attack.
He was a well built man, forty years old, well dressed, but not designer labels glaring out at you. He sat in his usual seat by the window in the restaurant, blankly looking out over the cityscape. The evening crowds of families, older folks and workers hustling to home and markets had died down. It was a cool, damp night; not the kind of night for venturing out unless for a purpose. The nighttime crowd had not yet made its appearance. It would be a light crowd since it was early in the workweek; too early in the week yet for partying except for those diehards that celebrated everything.
He chuckled to himself recalling his time before the Company. He celebrated everything. Thursday was an event because the next day was Friday. Friday to Sunday was full time partying. Monday night festivities were in honor of the past weekend and the week to come. Tuesday was, well, Tuesday. No real partying that night. Wednesday was hump day and was cause for revelry in that the week was on the downward slope to the weekend. Killed a lot of brain cells doing that.
He had finished his meal of veal piccata with a bottle of Barbera d’Asti, which he enjoyed with his long time friend and restaurateur, Antonio. They spent much time together, often not speaking a word to each other. They were almost like a long-married couple knowing what the other was thinking without actually saying anything.
He had seen her walking a few times in the past. He noticed that she was a very small woman. She couldn’t be more than 5’2”, maybe weighed in at 100 pounds soaking wet and in her clothes. She always seemed to be wearing dresses or a skirt. That was something he always liked his females to wear. Now a days, though, the girls seemed to like to wear pants or jeans. There was something different about her tonight. She had two young girls with her.
“Strange. I never noticed them before,” he said.
“Even whores have kids, you know. Humph! They probably work for her, too,” Antonio gruffly stated in a heavily accented Italian baritone.
“Antonio! You surprise me! How many times have we enjoyed the specialized services of the ladies of the night? All through Europe, Africa and the old USSR! Why, I remember in Kiev when you…”
“Enough of that!” Antonio exclaimed, punctuated with a punch in his friend’s arm.
His friend laughed bringing a smile to Antonio. He pointed the wine bottle at him and said, “You need to do more of that, my friend,” then topped off their glasses.
“Here’s to good times!”
“Ha! Good times, indeed!” Antonio huffed. “The Company was good, but MY company sucked!” he said with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips.
“You old scurvy dog! I should have left you in the Steppes when I had the chance!” he laughed.
They raised their glasses and made a silent toast to all the ladies in all the far flung reaches of the globe the two had trotted during their service to the Company.
“Well, my friend. The wine is gone and it’s time to go home and get ready to do this all over again. Same time tomorrow night?” he asked.
Antonio replied, “You’re just going to chase three pieces of tail, aren’t you! I’ll be here tomorrow, and when you’re not, I’ll go to the precinct and bail your sorry ass out – AGAIN!”
“Deal! Only you won’t have to.” he exclaimed.
They embraced, slapped each other on the backs and bid good night.
He picked up his fedora and briefcase and stepped out into the night. It had become colder and a little windy from when he went into l’ingrediente. He walked briskly down the street in part because it was chilly, but mostly because he always felt better after visiting his friend after a long day. Antonio was right. He did need to smile and laugh more.
He was always keenly aware of his surroundings, and could tell you who was moving in or out of the area, what they were wearing, the sounds of the street or the countryside and when they changed. He could tell if something or someone was out of place in an area even if he had never been to the place before. It was a unique talent he had.
The row houses and shops on this street were of low to middle-income working people. This was not the place for him. The local people eyed him suspiciously. That was a good thing as far as he was concerned, but he didn’t like sticking out in the crowd. He wouldn’t be here long anyway. A few blocks more and he’d be down the stairs and into the subway and on towards home. The corner clock at the bank flashed 47 degrees, 9:47 PM. Going to be a cold winter.
He went down the stairs, flashed his pass at the card reader and the turnstiles opened for his entry to the platform. He was moderately surprised to see the woman with her two girls on the platform waiting for the train. She was carrying a bag with Chinese take-out – Dong’an Chicken, and Sweet and Sour pork if he wasn’t mistaken. One out of two isn’t bad.
He sat and pulled the Economist out of his briefcase and began to read about the effects of the latest energy crisis on the world economy.
They all got on the express train when it came in. The woman and her family sat in the back of the car and chatted between themselves. He couldn’t tell, or really care, about what. He sat in a seat about a quarter of a car away placing his briefcase on his lap. There were two other men at the other end of the car. He opened his magazine and continued reading.
The two men walked down the car as it left the station. This didn’t look good, he thought. He couldn’t tell if they had guns, knives, pipes or what under their dusters. As they walked, he watched them out of the corner of his eyes, for all appearances totally engrossed in an article on the corporate struggles in Japan as bureaucrats and businessmen join forces to block outsiders from gaining entry into their economy. He wasn’t reading a word of it.
Next stop in ten minutes. Eight exits all closed. Three open in ten minutes. He could open one of two others, but not in time. If it’s a gun, someone’s going to be hurt. It wasn’t pipes since their coats flowed normally, and they didn’t walk more awkwardly than normal in a lurching train car.
The men walked past him making sure he was not a threat to them. A late 30’s early 40’s businessman in a suit and tie reading some business rag isn’t going to do anything. Time for some fun. They walked up to the woman and started pushing her around.
He put his magazine down and stood up and yelled at the men. One of them turned around and flashed his knife, pushed a button and a blade appeared, pointed it at him and told him to sit back down or it would find its way between his ribs.
He sat. Cheap blade, would probably break as soon as it hit bone. It could still kill, though. So could a lot of things. He considered himself better armed than the two men. He went back to his magazine watching the attack from the corners of his eyes again. They guy chuckled and told the woman, “You’re alone now, bitch. He ain’t doin’ nuthin’.”
The woman told them to take her purse and food and leave them alone. The girls were crying. The man with the knife moved over to them and grabbed their hair in his hands and waived the knife in their faces and told them to shut up and not make him hurt them.
The other man grabbed the front of her blouse with both hands. He yanked in opposite directions and easily ripped the woman’s blouse open. He pulled the blouse over her shoulders leaving her chest and stomach bare and exposed. He started feeling her small tits. She was mumbling, “Not again, please, not again!”
He pinched her nipples and pulled them away from her body, then twisted them eliciting a cry of pain from her. “Not in front of the girls, please!”
“Like where shall we go? Your place? Mine? No, they’d better learn that a girl needs to take it,” as he continued to maul her breasts and nipples.
The knifeman held the girls by their hair and turned them to be able to watch their mother be molested. He leaned down behind the girls ears and said, “see how mommy says she wants him alone? Mommy’s a good whore, isn’t she?”
When they didn’t answer promptly, he jerked their heads and yelled, “isn’t she?” The girls just cried watching their mother helplessly being attacked, and nodded their heads.
The other man leaned down and started to suck on the mother’s tits. He sucked them into his mouth hard one by one. Her nipples became rock hard and he took advantage of that. He started to nibble on them, bite them, and suck them hard.
“Damned bitch’s got no tits! I can suck a whole tit in my mouth and have room for another of hers. Damn, whore! Wha’s the use in them?”
She stayed quiet, whimpering softly.
“I asked you a question, bitch!” Then he bit down hard on her nipple.
She screamed out in pain, “nothing! They’re worthless! Please leave us alone.”
He was not holding her in any way. She just stood there and let him do these things to her.
Knifeman whispered to her girls, “see? Your whore mommy loves this. He’s not even holding her down and she’s letting him suck her tits and bite her nipples. I’ll bet you’d love that too, wouldn’t you?”
The man sucking her tits reached between her legs and started to rub his hands up her legs under her skirt. He reached her panties and started to roughly rub her mound. “This slut’s wet already!”
Knifeman laughed and started his own groping. He had two small pieces of ass of his own. He said to the girls, “don’t you want to be like mommy there? She’s loving Abe there play with her tits and cunt.”
He started to feel the older girl’s ass. She wriggled to avoid his hand, but he cut her off. “Don’t move!”
He reached under her skirt and started to feel her butt. The girl was looking at her mom, tears rolling down her face as this man’s hands squeezed her butt through her panties, working his fingers in between her crack. He squeezed his hand in a firm grip on her right ass cheek. “Nice and firm ass you got there little honey! It’ll be fun to fuck. Bet your sister’s even tighter. You ever lick your sister’s cunt?”
The girl shook her head.
He wiggled his fingers into her crack more and found her ass hole. “Hmmmm, nice little hole there. Can’t wait to ram my cock in that hole!”
“You lick play with your mommy’s cunt?”
Knifeman noticed a movement to his right and turned to look at it. No one noticed the man leave his seat with his briefcase. He slammed the narrow side of his briefcase into the nose of the man with the knife in a round-house motion. There was lots of force that broke his nose and knocked him to the side away from the girls. He roared out in pain with blood gushing from his busted nose.
The businessman then quickly tackled the other man into the side of the cab throwing him off balance. Knifeman recovered came at him quickly. The man just had time to grab his thrusting hand and pull him hard in towards them extending the thrust of the knifer beyond what he was expecting. He guided the knife deep into the blocked man’s stomach. The man held the attacker’s hand hard into wounded man’s stomach, and then quickly slid the knife up slicing him open to the sternum.
“You don’t know it yet, but you’re dead.” The man said.
The dying man desperately tried to keep his stomach in while writhing and screaming in pain and losing his life essence.
The man then attacked the knifer with an elbow to his broken nose, and then, still holding the hand with the knife, a hard karate punch to the larynx, fracturing it. The knifer collapsed gasping for air. The man kicked the knife away.
The girls and woman stared in shock at what had just happened. In just a few seconds, they went from being victims of a crime to witnesses to one, maybe two of their attackers being killed right in front of their eyes.
“Other end of the car. Move it! Now!” he ordered. They ran.
He quickly gathered up his shattered briefcase and magazine. The remnants of their dinner were on the floor. He reached into the bag and took out a receipt, grabbed the empty bag, snatched up the spilled boxes of Chinese take-out, picked up his fedora, and then checked the area for anything of interest to him. He took the napkins inside and wiped his hands of the dying man’s entrails and blood as best he could, and put them back into the bag.
He checked the area one last time and walked to the other end of the car where the family was.
“You’re safe now but only for a moment. In a few seconds the train will pull into the next station. When it does, other people will come on and there will be a big scene. You don’t want to be a part of that, and I certainly don’t. We need to learn more and plan our next move. For right now, you’re all safest with me. So when the station comes, leave with me. Keep as normal as possible, and let’s leave together as quickly as possible without running.”
As the train came into the next station, he took off his suit coat and handed it to the woman to wear. “You’re showing a little too much.”
He looked at the girls and asked if they were hurt. The smallest one had a cut on her arm that would need stitches. She hadn’t even noticed it; everything happened so fast and was over almost before it began.
“Don’t look at it. You’ll be fine. All of you. Trust me on this.”
He began to tear off a strip of his shirt and got the woman to finish. He directed her to wrap the girl’s arm and tie the two tails.
He told them, “This is where we get off. Go quickly to the exit to the left, but DO NOT RUN! Do you understand? Wipe your faces, girls. No tears.” They nodded silently staring at this man who just saved them, and killed one possibly two men with his own hands. Is this real? He pulled his fedora down a little more.
As soon as the doors opened, they moved to the left and through the turnstiles. The man had the youngest tight by his side with his hand over her cut arm.
“So then I went to the Musee d’Art Contemporain in Lyon. They have this car there called a “Fat Car”. It looks like a marshmallow…” as they walked to the turnstiles… “and these 15 foot tall rubber boots like farmers wear. Really funny stuff.” The girls just looked at him. He was smiling an infectious smile.
There was a shriek behind them as they went up the escalator to the street level. They heard a police whistle and the screeching of train brakes.
In a whisper he said, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Up to the right, then a quick right again. There’s an alley we can duck down and get out of the street.”
The girls and mother were totally out of their element. Totally numb. They moved quickly up the escalator and turned right, then right again. Sure enough, there was an alley. They turned into it and quickly walked down the darkened alley. They didn’t stop walking until he told them to.
In the alleyway, he found a faucet. He turned the tap and quickly washed his hands and shirt sleeves of the stench of the eviscerated man. They moved to the next block over. They lucked into a cab that was letting out a fare.
“Ho! What luck! Hey, cabbie!” he called out. “You still working? Can you give us a lift home? We didn’t expect this change in weather, and it’s really too late to take the subway. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Sure, hop in. Where to?” He gave the cabbie the address and a hundred dollars cash.
In a stage whisper he said, “So, here’s the plan. We’ll go to my home where it’s safe and get some hot chocolate and warm ourselves by the fire. We’ll look at the situation, get cleaned up, and then a nice warm bed and sleep, OK? Then we’ll figure out together what to do. ”
“Right now, why don’t we just rest ourselves. We’ve had a busy day, eh?” He wrapped his arms around the two girls and pulled them into him and whispered to them, “shhhhh…no words now, OK? Decisions can be made tomorrow when we can think straight.” They nodded. He looked at the woman. “OK?”
A million thoughts went screaming through her mind all at the same time. This man had allowed the attack to happen, then stepped in and stopped it. He left one man to die, possibly two, but then safely bundled them off the train and out of harm’s way. Or had he? Didn’t he just kidnap them? Are they really safe? Or are they in more danger now than ever? Could she trust this stranger who gave her his coat, is protectively holding her girls, and knifed to death a man, and then acts like he does this every day like it’s no big deal?
“Yes, sir.” The woman said. She didn’t know how to begin to sort out what had just happened, and how to protect her girls. It was fairly obvious that she couldn’t protect them. After all, the men didn’t even have to hold her down to molest her breasts and vagina. She couldn’t keep them away from her girls. She couldn’t even resist them from feeling her daughter’s butt.
The cab pulled up to the gate. She was so dazed at what had happened that she didn’t know how long it took to get there. Had she fallen asleep?
“Good evening, Tomas! Can you please let us in?” he said from the back of the cab. She looked around at the houses. Some were large, others more modest. All of the houses were well kept with nice large yards. In a few moments they were in front of his house – one of the more modest ones.
The cabbie checked the meter. $75. Nice tip and worth his while. He was about to say what about the return trip when the man handed him another $100.
As they walked into the house, he said, “I wasn’t kidding about the hot chocolate. It helps calm the nerves after something like that. It helps if there’s a little “medicine” in it, too.”
He guided them into the kitchen where he had the woman make the hot chocolates. She felt relieved to be doing something normal.
The man was looking at the youngest girl’s cut. The bleeding had stopped, and her arm was a mess, but the cut wasn’t too deep. Nothing a few stitches wouldn’t cure. He sent the oldest girl into the hall powder room for a wet face cloth and towel while he went to the sink and scrubbed his hands with soap and hot water. She, too, was relieved to be doing something normal.
He washed her arm, cleaned out the wound. She barely cried she was so engrossed in his talking to her about the fishing fleet in Goteborg on the Kattegatt arm of the North Sea. He finished his story as he patted her arm dry. He went into the hall closet and pulled out an emergency kit that seemed to have everything that a hospital emergency room would have.
He put some antibiotic on the cut, and then very carefully closed the gash with butterfly stitches making sure that the cut was closed smoothly and evenly. He put a gauze bandage on her arm and wrapped it. He lightly kissed the cut and smiled at the girl. “Made it all better!”
He checked on the hot chocolate; added a little brandy to them. Just to calm them down so they can sleep.
“Let’s talk a little tonight. Tomorrow is another day and we can talk at length then. First off, you’re all safe here. No harm will come to you here.
“Right now, we’ll see to her arm. She’s going to need stitches. I have a friend that is a doctor. I’ll call her first thing and take care of that, and check you all out just to make sure you are all OK.
“My name is Martin. You can call me Marty if you wish. Much more than that you don’t really need to know now. There are three bedrooms. The girls can sleep in the back bedroom. You, madam, can sleep in the second across the hall. Bathrooms are in each room. There is a gym downstairs, and a hot tub out back. Sorry, honey, but you can’t go in with that arm. Maybe later.
“You are totally safe here. This neighborhood is gated and secured. No one gets in without security knowing about it. In addition, this house has additional security, so even if someone gets into the neighborhood, they’ll have to face my security as well. All that to say this, you can stay here as long as you want to and relax.
“We will need to be careful for awhile. Not that I don’t like police or use them. I do on both accounts. But not tonight – not this. There will be a lot of questions that we don’t want asked right now. You’ve been through enough for one night.
“I’ll go back to your home and gather some clothing and things if it’s safe. But first, I need to know. Did you know those guys? Had you seen them before? And…what ARE your names?”
“I’m Amy. Becky here is 10, and Jenny is almost 8.
“I had seen one of them before. The one with the knife. He bothered me a few times in the street. Just looking for money, or – well – favors.”
“Are you married? Boyfriend, girlfriend, roommates live with you” asked Martin?
“No. It’s just the three of us,” Amy said. “And you?”
He looked down at the floor, remembering a lifetime ago. “I – I’m no longer married.”
“You live alone in this big house?”
“I travel a lot. It doesn’t leave much time to build lasting relationships. Look, I’m not quite comfortable talking about her or relationships with you right now. Maybe later. Suffice it to say that I have plenty of room and you are welcome to it. I’ve caused a lot of problems for all of us, and this is the least I can do.
“In a day or so I can also go to where you live and get some clothes. Meanwhile, there’s some women’s clothing here, but there’s not much, and none of it will fit the girls. Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for clothes. That is if you want to stay here.
“Why don’t you all go back to your rooms. I’ve found that a hot shower relieves a lot of stress and will help relax you. Get cleaned and refreshed. Why don’t you do that and then get off to bed. We’ll talk in the morrow.”
Martin showed them to their rooms. He went back to the kitchen. He heard the showers starting.
His first call was to his friend, Marsha, the doctor. He told her that he needed her and her bag to close the wound, and what he had done already for it. Also that the others should be checked over, too.
He called his secretary and left messages for his staff at work. He cancelled his appointments, pushed back a trip a week. They weren’t ready anyways.
His next call was to his friend, Tony. He told him briefly that there was an incident and asked for his help. “Just wanted to let you know that I’m not arrested, but I won’t be at your restaurant. I do have trouble, though. I need a favor. Remember your whore? Well, she and her kids are here at my place. There’s been an incident in the subway. I really could use some help cooking and disposal. My cupboards are, well, pretty bare since I’ve been eating all the time at your place. Hopefully, this woman can cook. I’m thinking they’ll be here a week. Maybe two.”
About 20 minutes later, Marsha was embracing Martin. She sutured Jenny and checked her and Becky over. Other than the cut on Jenny’s arm, they were fine. Shaken, yes, but fine.
Amy was also fine physically, but mentally a wreck. Amy was shaking, crying and very clinging to her girls. All perfectly normal expressions, but Amy was in another realm. She was sick to her stomach, and complained of dizziness. Her blood pressure was elevated, and her heart was racing like she had just run a marathon.
“Amy, listen to me! You have to calm down. You’re all safe. Those men cannot touch you here, not with Martin here. You and the girls couldn’t be safer anywhere, but you need to relax. I’m going to give you something to help you a little for right now.”
Becky held her mother tightly and calmly told her over and over again, “Mom. We’re all fine. We’re all going to be OK. We can relax here for awhile. It’s safe here, mom.”
Amy calmed down some and allowed Marsha to give her a shot to calm her more so she could rest. As the drug took effect, Marsha left the girls with Amy and pulled Martin aside.
“Becky’s quite the girl! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl take over a situation like that before, let alone a 10 year old one. She soooo reminds me of…well….
“Keep Jenny’s arm dry, and I’ll want to see them in a few days just to make sure that they’re all OK. Marty, I hope you know what you’ve got here. ”
Marty and Marsha talked for a few minutes before Marsha left him with a few pills to lighten Amy’s anxiety.
“Sir?”
He looked up and saw Tanja, his late wife standing there.
“Tanja! How did you…”
Then he blinked and realized that it was Becky.
She looked very cute with her still wet long brown hair in the cami she was wearing. Rather exposing, but what could you do? She was 10, and the cami was designed for a woman. It had been a long time since he saw anyone wear that cami. It brought back extremely fond memories. He smiled a genuine smile.
“My, but you look so grown up, Becky. I thought you were someone else. You look just like her.”
“Thank you, Sir. Sir, who is Tanja?”
“Tanja was a very special woman.”
“Was she your wife?”
He had a thousand memories racing through his mind of his Tanja and the places they’d been and things they had done. He couldn’t answer her.
“May I ask a question? Excuse me for being blunt, Sir, but normal people don’t do what you did today. Who are you?”
“I’m going to give you a short answer, Becky, because I’ve got blood all over me, and it’s late. I also make a promise to you that I will answer every question you ask of me. Is that OK?”
“Yes, Sir. If you would like, you may get cleaned. I don’t mind waiting.”
“That is most thoughtful of you, and I greatly appreciate it! I feel – icky.” She giggled and he smiled. He took a plastic bag back to his bedroom. He took off all of his clothes and carefully placed them in the bag. Everything he wore went in the bag; fedora included. It’s a shame. He liked that suit and those shoes. He’ll have to burn it and have Tony dispose the ashes when he gets here tomorrow.
He showered, scrubbing every inch of himself. He put on a pair of briefs and a silk robe and went back to the kitchen.
The kitchen was cleaned of the dirty cups from the hot chocolate. Everything was straightened up and put away, chairs neatly pushed in. Becky was just putting away the towel when he walked in.
“I’m sorry it took me longer than it should, Sir. I have to learn where things belong. Where does this pot go?”
He smiled, “you are an amazing young girl! You really don’t have to do that. I can take care of that in the morning.”
“Sir, that wasn’t necessary. I did it while you were showering and I had no other chores to do.”
“OK. In the bottom drawer to the left of the stove.”
She pulled the drawer open, and put the pot in. He couldn’t help looking at her small frame and thinking to himself back to when he last had a woman that meant something other than a night or weekend of fun. When had he ever heard such words coming from a child? Sir? When was the last time he was called “Sir” by a child? He couldn’t think of a time. When was the last time that a child was insistent upon putting things away? He never did it at home. Insisting on talking and making sure of the security of her family first before sleeping? And this girl is 10???
Thinking back to the cab ride, it was “Yes, Sir” from the Amy, too. Becky obviously gets it from her, but Amy doesn’t seem to be of the same cloth as Becky. He hadn’t heard enough from Jenny to make an opinion.
He thought back to his Tanja…
“Sir?”
He rubbed his eyes to give himself time to clear his mind, “Let’s go to the living room. We’ll be more comfortable there.”
They sat on the love seat facing each other. “There is a lot I cannot tell you, but there is enough for you to know who I am.
“I own an import/export business. We’ve been in business for 10 years now, but for 5 as a serious company. Trust me that it is now a legitimate company.”
“Mommy works for a company like that. She just started this year.” Becky interrupted.
“I’ll have to talk to her about that. Anyway, I also worked for the government doing special projects. Marsha that you saw tonight, and Tony who we will see tomorrow also worked with me. I was married, but I lost her 7 years ago. They brought me back to the US, but I couldn’t do the work I did without her.”
“Tanja,” she asked? He nodded.
They were a real partnership. Best of friends, totally smitten with each other. They had talked of starting a family, but work got in the way. In the opening years of the new USSR, he had to go to Vilnius on a routine mission that turned out anything but routine. Tanja went to Gdansk in a supporting role for Martin and Antonio.
The mission was a disaster from the moment Martin and Antonio crossed the frontier into Lithuania. The fixer that was supposed to meet them never showed. They went to the alternate pick-up site, and still no agent. They spent a cold night hidden out in the woods outside of Lazdija hoping beyond hope of seeing their contact. Cars roamed the country roads all night. They were being looked for, and it wouldn’t be a welcoming committee with flowers and vodka.
They kept moving forward, figuring that the boarder would be sealed looking for them. They couldn’t risk a radio message to Gdansk at this point. They cut a path north towards Simnas and would hope to catch a truck or train to Vilnius.
At one point, on the road due north from Lazdija, they came across a car left on the side of the road. It was the car of the agent.
They checked the area, watching it for 2 hours, observing the passengers of the cars and trucks travelling past. No one seemed to pay particular attention to the car, though they all looked at it.
While Antonio kept watch, Martin crept closer to the car. As he got closer, he noticed that the car was in very rough shape. The glass was broken out by what looked like bullets. There were bullet holes in the car sides. Not good.
He turned around and left the area.
They walked north east through the woods paralleling the road to the small town of Simnas for several miles. They had to get out of the area quickly.
As dawn broke, they had to make decisions. Obviously, their cover was blown. Hopefully, they’d be able to get back to West Germany, but that was a long way away through many checkpoints. Neither liked their chances. There would be less chance together. They had to assume that the leak also told them the mission and number of agents and probably their names and appearance. There was no way to send a message to Gdansk safely. They did turn on the radio briefly at a prescheduled time and listened.
Silence.
They were alone in enemy territory. Not unlike the girl sitting in front of him now.
“She wore that cami you’re wearing,” Martin said. “She was small like your mom.”
“Did she kill, too?”
“No. Absolutely not. She was a technical. Radio and communications expert. I was the operative. I cannot tell you any more than that.”
“What will happen with us?”
“You and your family can stay here as long as necessary. We may move to other locations from time to time if we have to. I don’t think that we will, but, just so you know. Each place will be safe from harm.”
Becky asked, “Why not just go to the police? I’m sure they’d understand.”
“I’m sure they would not. There’s a dead man on a subway. Another that needed an emergency tracheotomy, if he survived. While they may be grateful to be rid of muggers like them, the last thing they need is a vigilante on their hands. And, too, I can’t have that kind of publicity. The Agency will be on me like stink on… well, real fast. They don’t take too kindly to their operatives active or not going off the reservation, so to speak, and I’m afraid you all would be dragged into that mess. No. It would be best to play it this way.”
Becky became very quiet. Her head hung down, and her little hands came up to her face. She was crying.
“Hey, there, pumpkin. It’s all going to be OK.” Martin said.
He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up, a face full of tears.
“Come on, now. It’ll be OK.”
He pulled her into his lap and held her. Folded her into his arms and held her tightly, rocking slightly, and shushing.
“I can’t do this again. I can’t go through all of this all over again!” she sobbed.
