I realize this is very short chapter, but it just seemed right to stop it at this point. I have a feeling the following chapter will be quite a bit longer, but since I haven't written it yet, I'm not sure. Thanks for reading and again, comment/reviews are always appreciated.

Chapter 2

Amy studied the faces of the men who approached the terminal gate where she and her brother waited. In her right hand she clutched the small photograph her father had given her of Hans Schreiber. Amy didn't know the man's name—her father had explained, as well as he could without giving her details that would endanger Amy or her brother, that the man had been given a new name in America, a name her father did not know, and that was why he had given her the photograph. But her father told her that this was the only man that she and her brother could trust, the only man they should leave the airport with. Her father had given her a responsibility beyond her age, but he had explained it to her as well as he could, and she was determined to fulfill her responsibility to her father and to her brother. A the day before she and her brother left for the United States, her father had called her into his study after Grisha had gone to sleep.

Amy, ready for bed, entered, and her father motioned for her to come over to him. When she did, he smiled and gently lifted her onto his lap. He smoothed her hair, and then his arms tightened around her and he closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes, Amy imagined that her father was going to cry, but that was impossible. She had never seen her father cry. Even when he told her a few months ago that they would never see their mother again, he didn't cry. Amy had. She had cried all that day and into the next, and her father had held her and rocked her gently, singing some of her favorite lullabies her mother had sung. In those first days after their mother's death, Amy had been angry with Grisha because, like his father, he hadn't cried. But her father had explained that Grisha was too young to really understand what had happened. Also, Grisha had seen his mother killed, and seeing someone killed often caused a person to try and forget, to repress what they had seen because it was too horrible. Amy didn't understand exactly what her father meant by this, but she believed him because she didn't think that her father had ever lied to her before and so she forgave Grisha for not crying. And she was determined that he would never see anything that horrible again.

"Amy," her father began, "I need you to be very strong, stronger than you have ever been."

"I know, Father, and I will be. I promise."

He closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he smiled, "I know you will be. You are the bravest child I have ever seen."

"Braver than Grisha?"

"Oh, yes. Grisha is brave, but you are braver, and I am trusting to you to take care of him."

"I will," she promised solemnly and then hugged her father as though she never wanted to let go.

His voice was different when he spoke, "You know how much I love you and your brother. I would never send you away if I didn't have to."

"I know. If you don't send us away, the people that killed mother might try to kill us."

"Yes, they might." His eyes glistened, but no tear fell. He was filled with sorrow and anger, sorrow at having to send his children thousands of miles away and anger that his daughter had to learn about the dangers of the world when she was still so young. She had lost her childhood, and he knew that Grisha might very well lose his. "It is better that you and Grisha are miles away and safe than with me and in danger."

Neither spoke again for several moments. He knew that Amy did not fully understand the consequences of what she was being asked to do, but he knew that Hans would make sure his children were safe. He had known Hans for several years before helping him escape to America, and Hans had promised to take care of Amy and Grisha until Nikita could join them. Nikita felt that he had done everything he could do to ensure the safety of his children, and getting them to safety was all he cared about now. Once they were safe, he could plan his next steps.

He stood up suddenly, Amy's arms draped around his neck, and carried her off to bed. He entered the room quietly so as not to wake Grisha who had finally fallen asleep, and gently laid her down. "Спокойной ночи," he said and gently kissed her on her forehead as he drew the covers up. "We have a long way to go tomorrow." And with those words, he silently slipped out and closed the door behind him.

Amy looked over at her brother. "I promise, Grisha, I will always keep you safe," she whispered and then turned on her side and tried to sleep.