Attack First, Ask Questions Later

Chapter 1

Natalie Kane was the most nervous she had ever been in her whole life. Last week someone had tracked her down and told her that she had family she was unaware of. Apparently her mother was the illegitimate daughter of someone who was looking for them. He was some big shot in D.C. Natalie just moved to D.C. to start her doctorate degree at Georgetown when some private investigator knocked on her apartment door. It was her second day in the city. The guy was good. He gave her a dossier and said that if she wished to contact her maternal grandfather he would be grateful for the call and then left.

She hadn't even fully unpacked, not that she had much. Her mom passed just this past spring in a car accident. They lived in a small town in northern Pennsylvania until she was accepted to Columbia in NYC. Her mom moved with her to New York as Natalie was only 14 when she was accepted for her undergraduate degree. Natalie graduated 3 years later with a double degree in Biology and Psychology. She proceeded to get her masters in both over the next 3 years before applying for her doctorates. She applied to Columbia, Harvard, Princeton and Georgetown. Accepted to all four schools she made the difficult decision to move from New York to Washington. It wasn't that difficult, it meant she got away from him. And the place she lost her mother.

At 20 years of age, looking towards her 21 first birthday, Natalie sat on a small sofa in her tiny living room staring at the yellow-orange folder handed to her by the most plain man she had ever seen. In fact, she couldn't recall much about him. "I guess that's what makes him so good at his job" she muttered. Taking a deep breath Natalie reminisced on the day her life changed forever last year.

Natalie closed the door to their apartment at 8pm. She had spent the last 4 hours at the lab doing research for her thesis on The Root Causes of Transgenderism and was looking forward to her home cooked meal and a long weekend with her mom. Instead she found her mom tied to a chair and her personal nightmare holding a knife.

"Glad to see you finally made it my love," he stated walking towards her. "Your mom and I can't seem to agree on the status of our relationship. She seems to think we have broken up and I keep telling her that we are going to be together forever, I had to restrain her. We are going for a ride Natty." She was frozen. Her mom was bloody and bruised with a few slashes here and there. Hyperventilating Nat looked to the door, "I wouldn't if I were you," he said menacingly, "I'll slit her throat, and she's the only family you have left."

Natalie's birth father, George Kane, died in a farming accident when she was just 2. Mallory Kane was the only family she had left. Mallory was disowned when she got pregnant at 16, her hypocrite of a grandmother kicked her out. Granny Mae was a mistress to some married guy when she was in college and Natalie thought that was rather hypocritical. There was no lost love for Granny Mae. Mallory was Natalie's whole world. She couldn't loose her.

They left in his car. Natalie was tied up in the front seat and her mom was laying down in the back seat. "I don't understand why you would do this, I said I didn't want to go out with you." He was near tears. They had been friends since she was 16 and they met in a criminal psychology class. He was always so nice to her. Most people resented her for being so smart. She just felt like an outsider. At graduation they shared a drunken kiss and Natalie said she never wanted that to happen again. Since then he had been distant but friendly. This was completely unexpected and for the life of her Natalie couldn't seem to recall anything in any of her psychology classes that would help her defuse the situation. 2 days ago, when they were in the library marking essays for classes they were teacher's assistants for, he asked her out to dinner this weekend to commemorate their upcoming graduation. A date, he clarified. Natalie wasn't interested. He was upset and left and she hadn't seen him on campus since then.

As they were driving on the Brooklyn bridge he kept getting more and more upset that and saying she would understand, soon enough she would understand. Natalie yelled because they were dangerously close to hitting another vehicle. He swerved to miss it. At the high speeds and angle they hit the side of the bridge the car flipped over the side and plummeted into the cold water below. Natalie was knocked unconscious and was pulled from the car by a off duty police officer. Her mother was trapped in the backseat and drowned. There was no sign of her kidnapper. Police found a collage dedicated to her in his apartment and dozens of journals documenting his declining mental condition. She was informed recently a body washed up on shore and the identification was tentatively his. Natalie was no longer in love with New York. Everywhere she looked she saw him or her mom. So she accepted her position at Georgetown (they offered her a full doctoral scholarship as long as she taught two classes a semester until she was complete) and moved.

Natalie rented a small mini-apartment in Washington near the university. It was an old converted mall. All the units were under 400 sq. feet. Her living room was also her dining area with a small corner sofa and convertible coffee table/dining table. On the opposite wall was a mounted flat screen tv with numerous book shelves filled with books and dvds. Next was her tiny kitchen with mini fridge/freezer combo, 3 cupboards above a sink with two lower cabinets, one contained her cleaning supplies, the other was dry goods. She also had a mini stove and coffeemaker on her counter. She put in the smallest microwave stand known to man that fit along the wall before her bedroom and had her microwave there with two pots and two frying pans in the cupboard below it. Her bedroom could be accessed with a pocket door. Her bed took up the majority of the floor. It was just a mattress on the floor with curtains and lights hanging around it. It was covered in a variety of pillows. Her mom was a bit of a hippy and they style seemed to rub off on Natalie. Her walls had a few shelves with the only mementos she had kept from New York. Including the only picture she had of the only guy she ever loved, Brian. He was with her during their undergrads. He went on to medical school. He was the only person to understand what it was like to be a child genius, he started his undergrad at 16. He was her first and she always had fond memories of him. She wished him the best. They kept in touch through e-mails and the occasional phone call. The picture of them in central park was next to various photos of her with her mom and their cat when she was growing up. Opposite the doorway and next to the entrance to her bathroom was a wardrobe that kept some of Natalie's clothes and all 5 pairs of shoes. It wasn't much. There was a small dresser beside that beneath the only window that kept the basics of her clothing, socks, underwear, bras, shorts, tank tops, t-shirts and pj's. Her bathroom was small. You could barely turn around in it. It had the basics, toilet, sink with small vanity and her stand up room only shower. Natalie figured she'd be spending the majority of her time on campus and didn't need much room. The mostly furnished apartment worked perfectly for her.

The building itself was very old and was one of the first shopping malls built. It was open to the public during the day and was security guarded at night. You needed key card and code access to enter the building after hours. The main floor was designated for businesses. There was a café that was open from 7am until 10pm. It also had a small convenience store attached to the café. Two lawyers offices were across the hall. A gym was at the back of the building and took up about half the downstairs floor space on one side. The other side was a daycare. There was a tailors, pet grooming salon, massage therapist office, embroidery store and a private investigator. Apparently the very private investigator that visited her just now. The top 2 floors were apartment units. They ranged from 200 sq. feet to the two 800 sq. foot 2 bedroom units. There was a few empty apartments at the moment but the manager told her they didn't stay empty for long. They usually rented as short term leases for those in DC for short times but their long term tenants were mostly professionals like herself. There were two doctors, five or 6 people who commuted and only stayed during the week, and a bunch that either worked on capital hill. There were two families, one was a single mom in medical school living in one of the smaller units and one living in one of the 2 bedroom units. Young family with just a baby. The other 2 bedroom unit was taken up by the manager.

It was getting late, nearing 9pm and Natalie could hear the shops closing up and the guards locking the doors downstairs. Any business that stayed open afterhours usually did so for those living there. The only exception was the gym which stayed open 24hrs. It had a separate entrance on the street so their members could come and go as they pleased and their locked inner door could only be accessed by employees and building tenant key cards. Natalie's trainer usually met her 4 times a week at 9:30 at night. Natalie liked the trainer. He owned and operated his gym and held private classes if need be. Natalie had been starting Krav Maga in NYC before she left and loved that her trainer taught it. He was actually former Israeli Mossad. He came in especially for Natalie after she told him what happened to her. She wanted to feel safe again and didn't want to freeze. Tomorrow would be their first session.

Natalie went to her kitchen and started her kettle, she needed tea if she was going to get through the file sitting on her coffee table. She kept staring at the two business cards attached to it. One was said Ronald Glover, Private Investigator and in small print beneath that retired DC metro detective. The other was clearly for her grandfather, Tom Morrow, Director of NCIS and in small print said Naval Criminal Investigative Service.