Chapter One: Arrival in D.C.
A/N: I wrote another fic about the Blackthorne boys ,but I really started to wonder about the circumstances of Zach's recruitment to Blackthorne. Told from his perspective, I wanted to explore his origins as a Blackthorne boy. My other fic introduces Zach's life as a current Blackthorne student, but this fic delves into meeting Solomon and his transition to Blackthorne Institute.
D.C. was crawling with thieves in the summer.
Zachary Goode made a mental note of this the summer his mother had a 3 day CIA summit.
"I could call up some of my colleagues. There are plenty of fun things to do in D.C., Zach. Museums, the Lincoln Memorial, the International Spy Museum," Catherine Goode smiled, glancing at her son in the rear view mirror. It was the first time they had spoken in the car as it drove down the highway. They had been driving for hours from northern Virginia to D.C. She felt sorry that she stole away 3 days of his summer, especially when the entrance exam to Blackthorne Institute was approaching.
"Yeah, sounds fun," he shrugged, flipping through a morse code handbook. The book was now frayed at the edges, but he didn't have the heart to throw it out. It was one of the first espionage books he read.
"Oh, sweetheart," Catherine sighed "Is this about the Blackthorne exam?"
Of course it was about the Blackthorne entrance exam. He had spent his entire childhood training for this test. His mother had made sure of that when he turned 8, teaching him everything that she knew from Gallagher Academy to her training at the CIA. Most kids played with dinosaurs and Lego Blocks, biked to the park, or played little league soccer. Zach had espionage, lies, and years of martial arts training ingrained in his muscles. If he didn't get into Blackthorne, he wondered how differently his mother would look at him. He never wanted a normal life because spying was his life.
But Zach could only tell his mother, "Kind of. I dunno. I'm just a little nervous." He didn't get much information from the pamphlets or the research on his laptop. Zach had even tried hacking their database, and as expected, nothing came up. They were good.
"Honey, you've been a spy for as long as I can remember. Most kids your age don't have the same experience or training under their belts," Catherine said, turning on the radio. "The last time the CIA recruited an intern as young as you was 30 years ago. She wasn't wrong, because it was true. Last summer, the oldest interns couldn't help but pick on 14 year old Zach Goode. He got his ass kicked a few times during training, and nearly died when they were doing an extraction mission in Fiji. Now, they were still interning, and Zach was heading off to Blackthorne in the fall. That is, if he got accepted.
"I know what I'm capable of. I just hope I'm making the right choice."
" This is what you've always wanted, placement into one of the country's most elite spy schools. You're a spy, and no one can ever take that away from you. Which is why you're going to stay with one of my colleagues, Joe Solomon," she said, her eyes glancing at him. "We're here."
The last 30 minutes in the car consisted of playing around with a butterfly knife and blasting the air conditioning. Once their car rolled up to a side street, Zach rolled down the tinted window to get a better look. The streets were packed with shops and vendors. Chatting tourists and groups of students walked past them, carrying mementos of their trip. D.C. had a pleasant summer smell, the smell of pretzels and flowers accompanied by a warm breeze. It seemed like it was going to be a good day, and Zach hoped it was enough to forget the stress on his shoulders.
"C'mon," Catherine grinned. "I want you to meet Joe Solomon."
They left the air conditioned safety of their car and entered a quaint cafe on a corner. There weren't a lot of people, except the faint noise of chattering.
"He's late," Zach said, checking the time on his watch for the 3rd time. By now, Catherine had already finished her latte and the M&M cookie on Zach's plate disappeared.
She shot him a look. "He's a very busy man, Zach. You know, he has other matters to att-"
She stopped short when a man briskly touched her shoulder. "Ms. Goode," he greeted, shaking her hand before sitting down. So this was Joe Solomon, the CIA colleague that worked with his mom. He was an intimidating man, with a stature of at least 6 feet. Even then, Zach's height made him look like a skyscraper. Despite being middle aged, Joe Solomon had piercing green eyes that looked like they studied people too closely. He looked like a man with too many secrets, and Zach knew that there was more about him than he cared to share. Nevertheless, he decided to play the polite card.
Solomon turned to shake hands with him. "This is the Zachary Goode you've been telling me about. I'm impressed with what your mother has told me about your accomplishments." Catherine smiled at Zach. See? You're gonna do fine on the exam!
"Thank you," he said. "My entrance exam is in the next few weeks." If Mr. Solomon was impressed, that boosted some his confidence.
Mr. Solomon chuckled. "You'd be surprised, Zach. Blackthorne has a few tricks up its sleeve. Keep an open mind. Your mother also told me you've interned for the CIA. That's amazing for a kid your age."
I'm no kid, Zach grumbled.
"Of course, I've given Zach all the best training I could possibly offer. I want him to succeed beyond imagination after graduation," Catherine added, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Like mother like son."
Zach didn't know much about her Gallagher days. He knew that it was one of the leading spy schools next to Blackthorne in the country. The old pictures sitting in a box in their attic contained nothing but faded memories and cobwebs. She never spoke fondly of those days, as if it was a painful reminder that she was a Gallagher girl. And soon, he would be a Blackthorne boy.
A cell phone began buzzing on the table, which meant that it was Catherine's cue to leave. She wouldn't be seeing Zach for the next 3 days, which gave him some relief from the pressure of passing the test. Mr. Solomon was kind enough to offer him a place to stay in his apartment. Zach agreed because he figured he could find out a lot more about Solomon and his mysterious relations to his mother.
"I'll see you later," he told mom, before hugging her goodbye. "Stay out of trouble."
Her dark red hair tickled his neck. "Zachary Goode, you're telling me to stay out of trouble? Be nice to Mr. Solomon and no dangerous agendas, understand?"
He gave her a sheepish look. "No promises?"
Laughing, she walked back over to her car before waving to Mr. Solomon and Zach. He watched her car drive out of the street before disappearing into the traffic. Now that he was no longer under the watchful eye of his mother, he felt some mischievous adrenaline to test out some of the training he had underwent on Solomon. CIA colleague? Yeah, right. For all he knew, Mr. Solomon was an ex-assassin who had 9 fingers.
"Excellent," Mr. Solomon said. "Your mother told me that you've always wanted to go to the International Spy Museum. Good thing for you, I happen to have a friend that works there."
Suddenly, he heard Mr. Solomon grunt. A man in a black ski mask held a gun to Mr. Solomon's forehead. Zach could hear no tourists or passersby. They were alone, but he wasn't going to panic.
"Give me your fucking wallet," he growled. He pressed the barrel into Solomon's temple, while keeping him in a chokehold. Shit, Zach muttered. His mind quickly jumped on diverting the gun away from Solomon, but given the close proximity there would be no time before he pulled the trigger. For once, Zach did not counterattack. "You shithead governments officials are loaded."
"Take my things," Solomon grunted. "Zach, run!" The man in the mask didn't hesitate stealing his wallet and his briefcase. Solomon quickly complied. He also didn't hesitate to shoot Mr. Solomon in the stomach, leaving a trail of blood following behind him. The sound echoed in his ear before he registered that someone had been shot. And someone was getting away. He had to choose.
Stunned, Zach dragged Solomon to the corner of a building. Ripping a piece of his jacket, Zach started to press the wound with the fabric. Solomon winced.
"Are you alright?" He asked, propping him up against a flowered pot. If he waited moments longer, he would bleed out before the paramedics arrived.
"Call 911," he yelled at a confused waitress and a few passersby. "He was shot in the abdomen." He got up quickly to run after the perpetrator when a hand clasped around his wrist.
"N-no, Zach," Mr. Solomon weakly coughed. "It's not worth it. You'll be killed. You have little training, stay out of this."
"Yeah, well, I haven't ran a 5 minute mile in a while so I think it's about time I do."
"That's not very smart."
"I'm about to do something dumb!" He apologized, racing after the assailant.
Leaving behind his mother's bleeding colleague, Zach grinned as he started sprinting towards the moving blur in the distance before him. This, this was what felt so good about his training. Knowing that he could save lives. Knowing that he could bring others to justice.
Watch out, Blackthorne, he thought. Zachary Goode is coming.
To be continued.