Chapter One
Position unknown.
Date unknown.
"Jane," a thick Russian accent drawled out the plain and simple American name.
The reply from the median height redheaded girl that stood at the steps of the old church was a simple yes in perfect Russian. "Jane," the man said once again before hugging the figure that seemed okay in a simple coat in the middle of an almost-snowstorm. "It is not safe here," the Russian said rubbing a clear-as-day stubble along his sharp jaw.
The girl seemed indifferent as she replied with a shrug. In a voice of one who need sleep, badly, she whispered "When has it ever been safe?". She nodded to the coffee shop the two figures were standing before and said softly "Come on".
As Jane was walking up the snow-covered stairs she turned around and said "I need coffee, now,". Under the snow covered night both figures disappeared under a florescent Starbucks light.
I know I shouldn't be here. My inner Cammie the spy was telling me that. I knew that sense I stepped of the airplane with a fake I.D. bearing the name "Katherine Grant". After telling the maleco-pilot that he should just call me Kathy, much to my demise, I got on and upgraded to 1st class. As I sat back in my unreasonably conferrable chair I could only thick of one thing, or more like person.
Zach.
Even half around the world my sorta-boyfriend could still wedge himself in my brain. Maybe I needed this break after all.
"Jane!"
With an almost-shriek my thoughts were interrupted by a very pissed-off looking Russian.
"What has gotten into you, Jane?"
I only sighed.
Loudly.
"Just…" I started to say.
"I don't need an explanation," the Russian stated, "I just don't want you getting killed".
"Andrei," the name I had said a million times felt as smooth as silk on my tongue.
It felt…
Normal.
"Andrei," I grabbed his arm only clad in a black fur coat. "I am not the girl you found in Rome anymore."
"I know," he replied his breath fanning over my nose. He pushed my newly-died red hair out of my eyes. "I know".
I took of my sip of my black coffee. I swore that black and brown was the only difference of coffee in this near-barren place. I missed America and the Macey it came with that ordered an ice-blended mocha with whipped cream and caramel on the top. She said it was bad for her but like most of America she drank it anyway. My eyes wandered off of the blackish bitter thing called coffee to only meet a pair of very intense eyes the color of my coffee.
This time they were only less bitter.
More worn out.
Over time that was.
"Jane," Andrei softly said looking slightly amused. "I know I am hot but you could stop giving me that look".
My only reply was lifting my fur-lined leather coat to the side revealing something that had been strapped to my side sense Rome.
Black.
Shiny.
Revolver.
Andrei only then tapped his chest to indicate that he was indeed wearing a bullet-proof vest and not gained extra weight sense I last saw him.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "You always liked those chocolate bars a little too much."
He only chuckled. Ignoring the fact that it was still freezing inside Andrei raised his coat and shirt up to reveal chiseled abs.
I only laughed to his childish behavior and saying that, in fact, he went to the gym way to much then a normal person should. I also said that if he, "loved the gym so much that he should just marry her".
Somehow I felt like a normal teenager hanging out with my normal best friend. That was until a group of men clad in suits bearing badges with the titles of "FBI" and "CIA" reminded me that I was in fact not normal.
Reminded me that my spy days were over.
Reminded me that they had been over for years.
Reminded me that I was now considered an "assassin", trained in black ops and woven by guns, warehouses and cold places with equally cold people.
Reminded me that I was finally going home after so many years in handcuffs lead by people who once had been my sisterhood.
Reminded me that I was in fact not normal at all.