"Ariana?" Chief Lyna Smith asked twenty-two-year-old Violet one morning after she answered the phone.
"Yes?" Violet answered, mentally reminding herself that here she was Ariana Watson and not Violet Wakefield.
"This is the Chief. Can you come into my office soon? We need to talk."
"I'll be there in five minutes."
"Good." Click. Violet sat at her desk, still holding the receiver to her ear, wondering what the Chief could have to say to her. True, she had been a rising star in the agency over the past six months, but had never received a personal call from the Chief before, much less one with this much urgency. Snapping herself out of her daze, Violet slowly stood up and made her way to the Chief's office.
Hand poised to knock on the door, Violet was surprised to see it open for her. "Ariana, come in!" the Chief exclaimed and ushered the startled young woman inside. "Please, sit down," she told her, hand indicating the plush black chair in front of the ornate oak desk.
Once she had seen that Violet was comfortable, Chief Smith sat herself down on the other side of the desk. She leaned over toward the twenty-two-year-old detective in a confidential manner, looking toward the window first to see that no one was peeking inside the office. "Are you up to a challenge, Ariana Watson?"
"Yes," Violet replied promptly. Inwardly, however, she groaned. What have I gotten myself into this time? she asked herself. But, how else was I supposed to answer her question?
The Chief folded her hands together and set them in front of her onto her desk, leaning back slightly. "I received a report this morning that was very disturbing. You see, in France they are testing a new weapon that is twice as strong as the atomic bombs they dropped in Japan way back in World War II. What is so special about it is that it leaves no toxic wastes of any kind and restores the area of impact back to fertile flatlands. Substances in the weapon somehow do this. The thing is, it has been stolen. Not only that, but the mastermind behind the weapon was kidnapped. I would like for you to go to France, investigate the area of the crime, and get the weapon and its creator back where they belong."
Violet was stunned. She wants me to do this? I'm only twenty-two, and have not really tackled any case of this size! "How dangerous is this case going to be?"
"Very, unfortunately. But you are our best, and whoever is out there will probably pay less attention to a woman than a man on his tail. We have collected a set of our finest weapons for your use."
"Weapons?" Violet repeated, dreading the thought of using a normal Earth-style gun on someone. Fighting saiyan style with energy is different than this! I wish I had a blaster and not a messy, primitive pistol.
"You'll have to protect yourself. We do want you back."
"When do I leave?"
"First thing in the morning. Pack tonight. Here are your plane tickets. You're on Delta Airlines' flight 1328, which takes off at 7:30 a.m., gate G14. We'll supply you with funds. A contact in Paris will leave you a message in your hotel room. Oh, you'll be traveling as a reporter for Regional Weekly named Serena Duvall."
"All right."
"Good luck, Ariana," the Chief said, both women standing up, and shook Violet's hand. "I know that you will retrieve the creator and his weapon."
Violet walked over to the door to leave. As she placed her hand on the doorknob to open it, a thought struck her. "One more thing-what is the creator's name?"
"Aaron King."
"Thank you." Inwardly Violet was stunned. Mother said he would be working on weapons technology in Europe, but I thought he would go to Great Britain! Aaron King was not merely a genius renowned over the globe, but worked primarily as Yavinia's Weapons Division Chief, second in her military forces only to the head of the Yavinian fleet and the reigning monarch, Violet's father. He was out in the world to try and slightly advance Europe's technology, because the Island Alliance viewed the United States as too powerful for the world's good. Aaron was also only a few years older than Violet and one of her close friends. I always wondered if that was a wise thing for you to do, Dad… now let's see if I can get him out of this apparent mess.
She went over to her desk and found cash, a Parisian map, her pseudo identity, and a briefcase with supplies to go with the new identity. Time to become a reporter, Violet, she told herself.
The next morning she was comfortably seated in a first class seat with breakfast in front of her as the plane flew over the Atlantic Ocean toward Paris. Dare I eat this stuff? With plane food, who knows what it will be like? Oh, well, here goes. To her surprise, the food was rather good. With food in her stomach and a long way to go with not much to do, Violet fell to thinking about the past twenty-four hours. So, I'm now Serena Duvall, behind-the-scenes reporter for Regional Weekly. I'm glad I did a little bit of journalism a few years ago, other wise I wouldn't be able to pull this off in a million years. She then got out her French book and began polishing up on the language.
Upon reaching Paris, Violet hailed a cab and, in rather good French, told him to take her to her hotel about two miles away. In her room, which pleasantly surprised her to be nicer than she had expected, she found a note with a familiar script. It read:
I have more info. Chief told me to give it to you. Meet me at the Eiffel Tower at eight tomorrow morning.
Your contact "M"
Mark! So that's who the Chief got for my contact. That was nice of her. It will be good to have a friend out here on this hard of a case. Well, now that I feel better about this, time for food. Violet stuck the note in her pocket and called the desk for room service.
* * * * *
Precisely at eight the next morning Violet got out of the cab at the south side of the Eiffel Tower with a shoulder bag containing her fake ID, some pencils, paper, and a notebook. She had only gone a few feet when someone grabbed both her wrists from behind her and pinned them behind her back! Violet, freeing her wrists, whirled around to find her face inches away from a man's shoulder. She looked up into the face of six-foot-one Mark Reinard. "Mark! Don't scare me like that!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding.
"I get you every time, don't I, Serena?" he teased.
"I should have expected it then, right?" she laughed, pushing him away. Duh, of course he would have been briefed of my identity. The Chief isn't stupid.
"What's in the bag?" he asked her.
"Oh, just my notes. You know, 'reporter stuff'."
"Ah. So, am I not allowed to look?"
"No," she said in a teasing tone of voice.
"Well, then…" and he deftly snatched it from her shoulder and dashed to the nearest bench.
"Hey!" she exclaimed and chased after him. Mark had begun going through her papers and notes by the time she got there. Violet saw him stick a small envelope inside, but no one else could possibly have seen that because she was in the way. "Please, give that back," she said in a serious tone of voice.
"Oh, okay," Mark said apologetically. "Have you had breakfast?"
"Not really. Just a coffee."
"Then allow me."
"Why, you don't have to."
"Well, it's not often that a low guy like me gets to be in Paris with a beautiful young woman, eh?"
Even though she knew he was teasing her and giving her a compliment at the same time, Violet couldn't help but blush slightly.
"Oh, no. Handsome guys like you just never get any good breaks."
Mark laughed. "You could always match me, Serena. C'mon, I know a good place to go for breakfast. Best pastries you'll ever taste."
"Okay."
The two agents enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a small café not too far from the tower. Not often did they get to have fun on a mission. After Mark had paid, they walked back to Violet's hotel. Once there, he glanced down at her before they parted with a concerned look on his face.
"What is it, Mark?" Violet asked, alarmed at his expression.
"You really need to be careful out there. It's going to get dangerous. Frankly, I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine."
"Promise me you'll be careful?"
"I promise."
"See you back in Arist soon."
"See ya." Violet watched him as he walked away, touched by his concern. I hope I can find a guy like him someday… I doubt he'd relish the fact that I'd deceived him all this time and… oh, Violet, snap out of it! With an irritated expression and a sound shake of her head she headed for the elevators.
Back in her room, Violet opened up the envelope to read a note from the Chief telling her that Aaron King had been spotted on two occasions in Vienna, Austria. She also read that she was to go there and attempt to find him before his kidnappers got wind of a sighting and moved him. Violet was not to leave until the day after to make it look like she was actually there as a reporter. Tomorrow, Austria, here I come. Oh boy.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, another agent, this one from England, had been set on the same mission with no knowledge of the Arist Intelligence Agency's (AIA) sending out an agent of their own. Wes Healey, Agent 009, also had learned of the Vienna sighting. Wes, in reality Crown Prince Garion Westland of Alendre, was disturbed. I have to find Aaron King! And not just because that is part of my mission. If the kidnappers use any sort of interrogation on him, the Island Alliance's countries may be doomed! …Not that Aaron's easy to break. But still… oh, blast it, I just need to find him! He was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he bumped into a young, brown-haired woman in the plane terminal.
"I'm sorry!" Garion exclaimed, noticing her in his way for the first time.
"It's all right," she replied, and boarded the plane.
Garion eyed her as she walked in. Beautiful girl, he said to himself. Wait a minute! Haven't I seen her somewhere before? Unable to shake off the familiar feeling, Garion merely shook his head before entering the plane.
The flight from Paris to Vienna was uneventful. There was one stop during the flight, in Switzerland. Garion took a nap after pushing all thoughts of the young woman to a far, dusty corner of his mind. He woke up when they went through turbulence about an hour before landing.
As everyone filed out of the plane Garion was surprised to see the young woman in the terminal again. I thought she had stayed in Switzerland. I guess I didn't see her get back on the plane… not that I could really see her from my seat next to the window anyway. I know I have met her before…and I'll figure out who she is, soon…
* * * * *
Haven't I met that guy somewhere before? Violet asked herself on her way to her hotel in Vienna, recalling the tall, dark-haired young man who had bumped into her in the plane terminal at the airport in Paris. Talk about déja vu…whoa… what's this? Suddenly a piece of paper was in her hand. With how busy the sidewalks were Violet could not find whomever it was who gave her the note. Unfolding it, she read: Carry a weapon, Serena. You are in a dangerous area for your type. "M."
He must have left right after our meeting at the Eiffel Tower, or at least that day, Violet thought after reading the note. Time to investigate the area.
Once she reached her hotel, Violet took a small pistol--PP7 class--made sure it was loaded, then placed it in an easily accessible place in her shoulder bag. She then realized that since she had been taught to draw a gun (specifically a blaster) from her side, it might be easier to put it in a coat pocket. After much deliberation Violet decided to leave it where it was, close to her right hand.
Then she grabbed a notebook and pen and headed for the marketplace about three blocks from her hotel. Violet said to herself, I should be able to find out something here. Taking a picture out of her bag of herself and Aaron on a boat, she began to ask different vendors if they had ever seen him. After about an hour a quick movement caught her eye. Uh oh, not good. It's probably one of the kidnappers or their men. Violet had seen the dark-haired man in the black trench coat earlier.
"Fraulein?" the vendor she had been speaking with broke into her thoughts. "I seen man you looking for," he told her in English with a heavy German accent.
"Really? Where?" Violet asked him almost too eagerly.
"Over east here," he said, pointing. "Go to church, tallest building near. Varehouse next to. Seen him go there. He not come out I seen."
"Thank you," Violet said gratefully, and out of politeness bought one of the man's trinkets. She turned around and headed for the east exit. Since she had turned, Violet could not have seen the man in the black coat follow her. Nor could she have spotted the vendor she had been talking to get into a cab and leave, taking off his gray wig in the process.
Violet waited for about five minutes for a cab to come her way. Signaling it to stop, she got in and directed the cabby to her hotel. He looks slightly familiar… she noticed when she got in.
Garion had been observing her since she had entered the marketplace from a window overlooking it. He saw the vendor leave and take off the wig, as well as the man in the coat follow her. Why would someone like him be watching her? And what's with that vendor? I better keep an eye on her…
* * * * *
In the cab, Violet was stunned to see the car go left and not right as she had requested. "Why didn't you go right?" she demanded of him. "Remember, I'm the one paying you."
The cabby turned around with a sinister grin on his face and suddenly pulled over to where a man wearing a black trench coat was standing. The man got in next to her. Before Violet could do anything, she was trapped in a viselike grip and a cloth was placed over her face. Why am I…so…weak…was her last thought before slipping into unconsciousness…
* * * * *
Garion ducked through narrow alleyways and dashed across streets as he tried to inconspicuously follow the man in black. Wherever he is, the girl will probably be close by, was the thought that had prompted him to follow the young woman's stalker. Suddenly the man stopped on a lonely street corner and took out a small vial and cloth. He took a deep breath and held it as he poured out some of the contents of the vial onto the white handkerchief. Huh? He's up to no good…then Garion barely had time to duck between two buildings as a cab came speeding by. It stopped next to the corner where the man was standing and the man hopped in. As soon as he had shut the door, the cab sped off again. Garion watched the car and, through the rear windshield, saw a brief struggle and a brown-haired form slump forward.
Was that the girl? he asked himself, alarmed. Without thinking Garion whipped out his skeleton key, broke into a sedan parked nearby, and hot-wired it to start. As soon as the motor turned on he hit the gas and sped off in hot pursuit. The gap between the two vehicles began closing. Heh… all this over some girl… Tyria would be laughing her head off right now if she were with me. Well, after she had slapped me upside the head at least once. But I can't shake this feeling… I need to follow her.
Once he got close to the cab the man in the black trench coat leaned out the right-side window and faced his way. He pulled out a small pistol and began firing at Garion! Ducking, Garion was able to avoid being shot, but three small holes were now in his front windshield and his right rearview mirror was cracked. I'm sure glad they'll cover any damages, Garion thought to himself. Maybe that's why my parents had me go for the British government… His eyes narrowed as a bullet flew past his head. Okay, time to get serious. He began weaving from side to side in order to become a harder target.
How the heck did she get involved with this? Who is she? Why are they kidnapping her? And how important is it-whatever she's involved in-that the kidnappers are armed and rather good marksmen? Could it be related to the weapon theft somehow? Garion kept in hot pursuit, his many questions remaining unanswered.
The cab made a sudden right turn and Garion barely made it, hitting the curb on the opposite side of the road with a screech. Looking in his rearview mirror to make sure no one was after him, he noticed that there were quite a few tire marks on the pavement. He glanced at his speedometer and saw that they were going almost 100 kilometers an hour.
Oh, boy. Am I going to get myself killed by chasing after this girl? Besides, I don't even know if the girl in the car is the same one I saw in the terminal. But for some reason I can't stop now. I have to figure out what is up with that man in the coat. …Well… what is up with all of this, actually…
At the end of the street a large, old black warehouse came into view. Garion slowed the car because it was a dead end. The cab also slowed, passed under an L-shaped post, and… Disappeared?
Garion cursed and looked around for some sign of what had caused the car to vanish. He had no time to complete his thought before his car plunged downward into darkness. "Right now a light would be nice," he muttered to himself. He groped about in the darkness to find the switch for the car's headlights. They showed him that he was going down a narrow tunnel, causing him to slow even further and turn off the lights. Who knows what I'll find at the end of this thing? Better to be safe then sorry.
After about two minutes Garion noticed a light at the end of the tunnel. It grew larger as he drew closer to it. Wonder what I'll find here? And where did the cab go?
The light he approached showed a huge room full of vehicles of all kinds, but most of them were small cars and cabs. Where can I go to remain hidden? They have to know I'm here. Garion slowed the car to about ten k.p.h. and parked a minute later in a side indent in the tunnel wall. He took out his favorite pistol, a silenced PP7, and checked to see if it was loaded. Good, it's full. I sure hope I don't have to kill with it.
Garion tried to stay out of sight as he entered the large parking lot. Hugging the walls, he ducked behind garbage dumpsters and small cars. Then, after about a minute of weaving to and fro, he found the cab parking near an open hallway about ten feet wide. He saw the man in the trench coat get out, take the girl out, throw her over his right shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and walk down the hallway out of sight.
Garion waited until the cab drove off, then entered the hallway after him. He was careful to remain in the shadows. After the man had gone about eighty meters, he entered a side room. The door opened at the sound of his voice. Oh, great, Garion thought to himself. How am I supposed to get in there now? A movement caught his eye. Next to the door the man in the coat had gone in a building serviceman exited another one. Slipping in behind him, Garion hit him at the base of the head, knocking him out cold.
Quickly Garion went into the room the unfortunate serviceman had exited, and seeing that it was just a storage room, switched clothes with the man. Fortunately for Garion the man was about his size, maybe a few pounds heavier. He quickly tied the serviceman up, dirtied himself up as would be appropriate, and left with a toolbox in his hand.
Two guards stopped him not long afterwards. Garion held his breath, hoping that they spoke English.
"Have you seen a brown-haired man wearing a grey suit sneak by here lately?" the first guard asked him.
"Ja. He is in the storage room," Garion told them with a German accent, using a Jedi technique to induce them to accept his disguise. "He tried to knock me out, but I knocked him out first. Then I tied him up and came looking for you."
"Thank you. We will reward you for this later," the second guard said, and they raced toward the storage room. Not long afterwards he heard a shot ring out. That was too close, he breathed. They really don't know their people well, do they?
Garion peeked through another door's window and saw a hallway identical to the one he was in, except it was a little narrower. Carefully walking through, he saw one person who didn't notice him. He began moving along the hallway, looking for any sign of the girl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw through a window a figure tied to a chair in a small room. He moved over to a vent that obviously needed fixing and began working on it.
* * * * *
Slowly Violet regained consciousness. Opening her eyes, she noticed that she was in a small, grey room with only one door. A window opposite the door showed a hallway that had walls identical to the walls of the room. Violet moved her arm and found that she was tied to a chair with rather rough ropes. Turning her head slightly she noticed a man in a black coat standing near her. He was the one watching me! she realized.
"Ah, so you are finally awake," the man said in English with a slight Russian accent.
Violet was suddenly hit with a raging thirst. "Water…" she croaked.
"Oh, yes, you must be thirsty. Strygna does that to its victims."
What? They hit me with strygna? No wonder I couldn't resist him. That's the only stuff that can knock me out. Her eyes widened. How could he have known…?
The man laughed. "We know who you are, Princess Violet Wakefield."
She gasped. "How?"
He didn't answer. A tall, black-haired, beautiful woman entered the room. "Because of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rosa Grelyn of Osarian."
"Osarian? But that's--"
"A planet in the Expansion Region of the New Republic," Grelyn finished for her. "My people have followed your family from the Journey through the present."
"Why?"
"In hopes that your line will vanish from the galaxy."
Violet suddenly laughed. The future rulers of Byrista and Alendre are also of the Skywalker line, plus the Academy teachers, not to mention my brother. "Do you really think that kidnapping or even killing me will do that? Tell Gitran he and you are gravely mistaken."
Grelyn was taken aback by the force of Violet's comeback, but what startled her even more was the princess' knowledge of her leader. "What? How do you know about him?"
"I know lots of things, Grelyn," she said spitefully.
Grelyn's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm sure you think you do, proud one."
"I do not think, I know."
It took the intelligence agent a moment to regain her composure. "Try this, proud one: the New Republic will fall. Groups are uniting to take it down. Your pathetic Island Alliance cannot prevent it."
Obviously she does not know of our fleet on the far side of the moon, Violet thought to herself.
"And, we have the weapon, as well as your friend."
A screen came out of the wall and turned on. In a chair, tied up and bloody, sat none other than Aaron King.
* * * * *
When Garion heard the girl's name, he gasped. Violet! Why, I haven't seen her for five years! She must have dyed her hair or something…and cut it, too. … Though I can't believe I didn't recognize her earlier. Listening further, he heard Grelyn's taunts and Violet's retort. Good one, Violet! Then, peeking through a corner of the window he saw Aaron King on the wall screen. Enraged, he thought desperately, I have to do something!
The memory of their telepathic link was in a far, dusty corner of his mind.
* * * * *
The man in the coat walked over to stand next to Grelyn. He leaned over and whispered to her, "The intruder has been taken care of."
"Good. Who was responsible?"
"One of our servicemen. The agent tried to sneak up on him, but the serviceman got him first."
"He will be rewarded. Now, you know what to do."
"Yes, my lady." With that, he moved back to his prior position close to Violet's chair.
Grelyn nodded toward him. He moved to stand behind Violet's chair, as had been ordered prior to this "meeting." Violet sensed his intentions and braced herself. I've had far worse than what's coming in past battles, she told herself. Just as she had expected, a hard blow to the left side of her face came. Violet let no expression show on her face. I will keep my composure. That's sure to drive her nuts more than anything I could possibly say. That and… well, using my full powers on them would be overkill. They must not know about them, otherwise they wouldn't be doing what they are doing. Unless Gitran loves to employ pretty women without brains.
Another blow came, this one to the top of her head. Again, no expression was allowed to show on her face. Violet also did not utter a sound. The man hit her three more times before he stopped in exasperation. A slight trickle of blood was running down her face from a cut over her eye, made by a ring on the man's hand, and one bruise was slowly blossoming on her left cheekbone, but other than that there were no marks on her face at all.
Grelyn was stunned at first. Then rage overtook her. She had been hoping to get this haughty princess to show that she was all air and no backbone. Grelyn hated to be wrong. Fuming, she ordered her henchman, "Hit her more!"
Then as shot rang out, and the window shattered.
"What the…" Grelyn said, startled.
A serviceman jumped through where the window once was. He ripped off his cap and drew his PP7.
"No, you won't," he said to the man, pointing his gun at him at the same time.
Violet squinted at him. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
He turned his head toward her, gun not wavering, and grinned roguishly. "Of course you do. Remember the 170th anniversary?"
Recognition dawned on her. "Garion?"
"Yup."
Violet laughed with delight. Even the blood and the bruise on her face don't mar her beauty, Garion thought to himself, admiring her.
Violet sensed something amiss. A movement caught her eye. "Garion, look out!"
Garion dove for the floor half a second too late. However, the action did cause the bullet go through his right shoulder instead of into his spine. He winced with pain as Grelyn stood over him with a smoking pistol in her hand and promptly used a Jedi pain suppression technique. Man, he thought, recalling the memory that had struck him right as he had sensed Grelyn's movement a few seconds before. I still have to make her feel like she needs to protect me, don't I?
"Garion!" Violet cried out, seeing the blood gush from his wound. Blind with rage, she turned her head toward Grelyn with a look that could kill. The air around her began to sizzle.
Both Grelyn and her henchman took a step back. Violet was glowing. A yellow light outlined her figure as her hair stood on end. The rough cords of rope tying her to the chair snapped. She stood up, anger evident all over her body. "You are in over your head, Grelyn," Violet said in a cold, quiet voice. The tone in her voice scared Grelyn more than anything else about her.
The man was cowering in a corner. "Wh-who are you?" he asked, stuttering with fear.
"Your worst nightmare. Princess Violet Wakefield of Yavinia, super saiyan, at your service." Violet's hand began to glow even brighter than the rest of her. "This is for your hitting me," she told him, and violet energy flowed in a beam from her hand onto the man. He shrieked in agony.
"Don't kill him!" Garion ordered hoarsely.
The energy flow stopped immediately.
The man shakily stood up and jumped out the opening where the window once was. Violet turned toward Garion and said, "I needed to be snapped out of that. Thanks." She stopped glowing, and her hair fell back down to lie gently across her shoulders. "Where's Grelyn?"
"I left," she answered over the speakers. "This building will explode in five minutes. Goodbye, Princess."
Violet gasped. She dashed over, gingerly picked up Garion, and blew open the door with a burst of energy from her right hand. Running through the hallways, she tried every door she came across. None led outside. "Oh, forget it!" she exclaimed. Violet set Garion down and blasted a hole through the high ceiling about ten feet across using the same energy she had used on the man. It showed open, though cloudy, sky.
"Hang on, Garion," Violet told him after she had picked him up again, and flew out the hole to safety. She had just set him down in an abandoned field nearby when she remembered something. "Aaron!" Glancing down at Garion, she said, "I'll be quick," and flew back to the doomed warehouse.
He watched her leave, and said to her silently, Have you forgotten this?
Violet was so startled she almost stopped in her tracks. I did. Take care. I'll come back as fast as I can, all right?
Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just focus on Aaron.
With a curt nod she flew away. Concentrating on the task ahead, she soon arrived back at the building. Violet made her way back to the room where she had been tied up to see where Aaron was. She also noticed on the screen that she had two minutes. Aaron, she saw, was in a small room similar to hers, but with a window to the outside. Making her way back outside, Violet dashed all over the place, looking in windows. One minute left.
Finally, she found where he was. Breaking the glass, she dashed in, zapped his ropes to cut them, and tried to bring him back to consciousness. Thirty seconds. Giving up, Violet slumped him over her shoulder and tried to break out the window to find that it was too small. The door gave her some trouble, but she finally broke it open. Twenty seconds. Violet blasted a hole in the ceiling to find that she had another two floors up to go. Fifteen seconds.
She kept blasting away until she could see the sky. Five…four…three…she was almost out! Two…one…kaboom! The warehouse went up in a cloud of smoke and fire. Violet was barely high enough to avoid getting Aaron singed by the blast. She flew over to where she had left Garion, mopped her face up a little using a drinking fountain, and took them to where she could get a cab and look "normal."
"Drive us to the nearest hospital, and hurry!" she ordered the cabbie. He got them there as fast as he could, barely staying under the speed limit, and just in time. Garion was going in and out of consciousness, and Aaron had yet to come around.
The cabbie helped her bring in Garion first, because he was weakening from the loss of blood. Violet squeezed his hand before the nurse took him away, giving him a little bit of her own energy to ensure a better recovery. Then she helped bring in Aaron, who was taken away quickly as well. Violet plopped down in a nearby chair, weary from the day's excitement. The strygna must still be in my system. Hey, I never got any water! "Nurse, could you get me some water, please?"
"Ja. Let me clean you up," the nurse at the desk replied in a thick German accent. The nurse brought over a cup of water, some towelettes with betadine on them, and a cloth bandage for the cut above her right eye. When the nurse began cleaning the cut, Violet winced slightly but refrained from making a sound.
"You are good patient," the nurse told her. "Vat happened?"
"We were kind of close to the warehouse explosion," Violet said, and the nurse did not ask any more questions, though she realized there was more to it than that.
After she was cleaned up, Violet looked in a nearby mirror. Ouch, that bruise looks worse than it feels. And I look like a war veteran with this bandage on my head! I hope Garion is doing okay. And Aaron must have a concussion or something. He's been out a while.
Violet waited impatiently for three hours, getting more worried every minute. Then the nurse that had taken in Aaron came in. "He vants to see you," she told Violet. Violet walked down the hall behind her and was relieved when she heard Aaron's joking voice, "Did you miss me?"
"Of course not. Why would I?" she teased.
"What happened?" he asked.
Violet waited to respond until after his nurse had left. "You remember the weapon theft, right?"
"Yes."
"You were knocked out and kept in a warehouse, along with the weapon, in this city."
"Where are we?"
"Vienna."
"That's why there are all the German accents."
"Ja."
He laughed. "Where's the weapon now?"
"Blown up, along with the warehouse. It was a decoy. They wanted to lure me in to try and break me."
"Ha. I doubt that anyone could break you. Did they use strygna?"
"Uh huh. I hate that stuff."
Aaron yawned.
"You better rest now. I'll come back later."
"Okay."
Violet left him, feeling much better. She waited for another hour. Still no word on Garion. I hope he's okay. I feel so bad. It's my fault that he's injured. And he better be able to use that arm again! That's his dominant arm! If anything's wrong, I'll feel bad forever!
I'll be fine, Violet, a voice broke into her thoughts.
Whoa…oh, Garion! … Hi. Uh… how are you feeling?
Much better. They got the bullet out easily, but I'm still groggy from the operation. Thanks for the energy.
Violet blushed. No problem. You rest now, you hear?
Yes, ma'am. He fell silent, but Violet saw the smile in his statement for a long time afterward.
* * * * *
The next afternoon both Aaron and Garion were released from the hospital. Violet had spent the time composing a report of her activities-at least the ones the AIA could know-and an expenses report. She also helped Garion write one for the British Secret Service.
"Wes Healey, 009, eh? Interesting alias. But what's up with the numbers?"
"I really don't know. So you're the Ariana Watson we've heard of."
"You've heard of me?"
"Yeah. Have you heard of 007?"
"Duh. He's the one they made movies of, right?"
"Yeah. He's a legend. He isn't alive any longer, unfortunately."
"Old age?"
"Amazingly, yes."
"Wow. So, what have you heard of me?"
"Oh, just that you're a rising star in the world of sleuthing."
"Seriously."
"Actually, that you're one of the best in the business."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
After their release Violet made a long distance call on her private cell phone-one issued her by the Yavinian Phone Company. She called her parents, told them what had happened, and said that she was coming home for a weeklong vacation. Then she called-on a different phone-Chief Smith, who had read her report.
"Take as long as a vacation as you want. You deserve it. Did you really work with someone from the BSS?"
"Yeah."
Violet arranged flights to San Francisco for the three of them. From there they were taken to an isolated cove fortified by Island Alliance forces far from prying eyes for the trip to Yavinia and Alendre.