Somewhere in the Helmand Province, Afghanistan…

I remember walking into a church. I was walking between a woman and a man. I was probably around four or five. I could tell that they were terribly upset, and the woman was crying. We were led into an office where the adults began to talk to an older woman wearing weird clothes. The young woman took me over to a bin of toys before going back over to the others.

I could hear the conversation even though I was a good ways away. My hearing and sight were excellent. I understood the gist of what was going on. The young couple I assume are my parents are leaving me at this orphanage. The reason they gave the nun was that I had abilities that were beginning to draw attention to me, and they were afraid that someone was going to take me and use my abilities to hurt others. Although I understood what they were saying, I didn't know what they meant.

At any rate, they left me with the nuns at the orphanage, and I never saw them again. The longer I was in the home, the more I realized how different I was. I could do things that the other kids couldn't, and I was more intelligent in school than most. I tried to make friends, but no one wanted to be friends with the 'freak,' so I just kept to myself and read anything that I could get my hands on.

When I was around nine, I finally made a friend named Ali. We were inseparable and would often sneak out of the home at night to go watch the military train at a nearby base. That's where I met Blake. He was a US soldier working the gate one night when Ali and I watched them run through their drills. He motioned us over to his station and asked, "What are you two doing out here?"

I answered, "We are trying to learn how to defend ourselves by watching the soldiers."

He gave us a confused look, "Why?"

"Because the older kids at the home are mean and bully us. We want to learn to defend ourselves and others that they pick on."

Meeting Blake was one of the best things that happened to me. He began helping Ali and me learn to defend ourselves and would give me books to read. After that, Ali and I were always together. We learned to play soccer, and Blake kept an eye on us as much as he could. He even had his sister Octavia write me letters and send me care packages. He even kept in contact with me when he went back stateside in-between his tours, at least until I was moved to another orphanage.

Chapter 1: Lexa

Three years later. Somewhere near Camp Leatherneck,in the Helmand Province, Afghanistan…

My name is Alexandria Sahar Trikru, but I go by Lexa. I have lived in the desert of Afghanistan my entire life in one orphanage or another. I don't know who my parents are or where I came from. All I know is that I don't belong here. I have always known that I am different not only because of my skin color but because I can run faster, jump higher, hear, and see better than anyone I have ever met and I have never been sick, not even a cold.

Even though I had lived here my entire life, I know deep down I don't belong here. I don't know where I belong or where I come from, but I know it isn't here. I don't look like everyone else; I have lighter skin than most, and although I have dark hair, it isn't as dark as everyone else's, and I have bright steel-blue eyes, which barely anyone else has. I do well in school when allowed to attend, and I pick up languages quickly. I can speak Dari, Pashto, Arabic, Urdu, Kurdish, Turkish, Hebrew, Hindi, English, and Spanish.

As a female in an underdeveloped area of Afghanistan, I was forced to work in the fields during the day, and being an orphan meant that I had to pay for room and board once I turned twelve. So from the time I turned twelve, I have worked in the fields. Every morning I wake at four am and walk to the fields. I pass a US military base on the way to and from the fields, where I meet many friendly soldiers. One, in particular, is named Blake. I would stop and talk to him as often as I could, and as we got to know each other, he became sort of like an older brother to me. He would give me books and magazines to read, and he even had his sister, Octavia, write me letters and send me packages.

It didn't take me long to figure out that girls were treated differently from the boys, and the boys were allowed to go to school and learn to fight while we girls were made to work long hours for nothing except our room and board. Blake and I had many long conversations about this and other inequalities in this country. A few days after I turned fourteen, I learned that I was to be relocated to a different orphanage, and I had an idea. I thought that if I could pass for a boy, I could go back to school, and if I did well enough, maybe I could go to college and get out of this godforsaken country.

So, with Blake's help at the age of fourteen, Alexandria Sahar 'Lexa' Trikru became Alexander Sahib 'Zander' Trikru. I was transferred to an orphanage near Farah, about a thirteen-hour drive from where I was. Fortunately for me, that meant that no one would know me, but it also meant that I would be thirteen hours away from the only real friend I had, Blake. He promised to write and check in with me if he was ever in the neighborhood.

I spent the next three years living as a guy, which was surprisingly easy for me. I went to school, studied hard, and learned to fight. I excelled in languages and athletics, especially soccer. Blake was true to his word and frequently wrote, sending me magazines and candy. I became proficient in hand-to-hand combat as well as sword and knife combat. When I wasn't studying, I was working out to compete with the other guys my age. It wasn't hard because I was not only faster than most, but I was also stronger than most of the guys my age. I didn't have any close friends for obvious reasons, but I did have a couple of guys that I would hang out with occasionally and play soccer. As I got older, I adjusted to living as a guy exceptionally well, and by that, I mean the girls loved me. The guys hated me because I could have any girl that I wanted. The trick was not letting anyone find out my secret. I became great at coming up with excuses to keep my clothes on while satisfying the girls.

Life was actually going pretty well; I was extremely popular with the girls, and I was on my way to earning a soccer scholarship and an academic scholarship to Kabul University, which would have never happened if I had continued to live as Alexandria. Once I was at University in Kabul, I hoped that I could transfer to a college in America. But, unfortunately, that hope quickly came to an end when my world exploded while in history class.

When I woke up, I was in a cave with many other boys of various ages. I recognized a few from school, but most I didn't. I tried to find out where we were, but no one seemed to know much of anything. I finally pieced together that the school had been bombed, but no one knew by whom, and the survivors were brought here, wherever here is.

Soon a man with a gun came in and started shouting in Arabic. Lucky for me, I did well in school, and I speak ten languages. He told us that we now belong to Ahmed, part of the al-Qaeda army, and would begin training to be soldiers for their cause. Although I have lived here in the desert my entire life, I knew who al-Qaeda and the Taliban are. I also knew that the Americans and foreign troops were here to help the people of the region despite what the Taliban wants us to believe. The man said his name was Ahmed and he was the leader of this group. He said that it was the Americans who bombed the school and rescued us from the carnage before they could take us captive. This made me laugh because that is precisely what Ahmed and his people were doing, making us prisoners, and forcing us to fight for something we don't believe in. Well, at least I don't. Also, why would the Americans bomb a school full of kids?

I am smart enough to know the things Ahmed was telling us were not true. I did well in school, listened around town, and enjoyed talking to the soldiers from America stationed at the nearby base. They would often give me stuff to read about the outside world, knowing that I wanted to get out of this shit hole of a desert one day. The soldiers loved to tell stories of their families and friends back home, and I enjoyed listening to them. Then there was Blake; he was an American Navy Seal that was as close to family as I had. Because of him and all the things I had read, I questioned everything Ahmed was saying. I wouldn't believe all the horrible things he was speaking about not only Americans but the entire world. This only managed to get me thrown into a cell, where I was punished.

I knew what they were trying to do. They were trying to break me. I had heard stories of this kind of re-education from the soldiers and people in town. He figured if they could break my spirit, I would be easier to control and brainwash with their rhetoric. What they didn't realize about me was that I was not only smart but also very stubborn. Unfortunately, sometimes the stubbornness got in the way of being wise. I lost track of time while I was being held in this torture chamber, and it didn't take long for Ahmed and his guys to figure out my secret, which only added another level to the torture. Once my secret was out, Omar started 'visiting' me. I have never felt so weak. I could take the initial abuse of being chained, beaten, cut, and branded, but once they discovered that I was a woman, it opened up a new form of hell to be endured. I went from being a strong person who had proven he could take a beating to a scared little girl in a matter of minutes. Omar just laughed and said that he now knew what it would take to break me because all women could and would be broken by men in the end. He said that he would take my dignity and self-respect and by the time he was finished with me, I would be broken and useless as a woman. He said no man would ever want me after what they were going to do to me, and I would serve Ahmed and their cause in one way or another.

I learned pretty quickly that the best way to survive what was happening was to turn off all my emotions. By doing this, I could endure whatever he could dish out. I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to survive and get out of here without losing hope, but the longer his 'visits' went on, the more I felt my confidence and belief in myself start to wane. What he did to my body was nothing compared to what he was taking from my soul. I was beginning to lose myself and the hope that I had promised I wouldn't forget. Unfortunately, that hope was slowly being replaced by the need for retaliation and vengeance.

Eventually, my smarts overcame my stubbornness, and I decided it would just be better to let them think they had broken me, which to some degree Omar had. I would let them believe that I now felt their distorted vision of the world. After what I think is a few more days of what they called re-education therapy, they finally put me back with the rest of the kids. I decided my best course of action was to just keep my head down, speak only when spoken to. I realized I needed to concentrate on learning how to survive with the hopes of one day getting out of here and getting my revenge on Omar and the rest of the men that had taken pieces of not only my body but my soul, but I needed to be innovative and bide my time. I made a new promise to myself; I would do whatever it took to get my vengeance on those that had tortured me, but I would not let the need for revenge be my only reason for living. If it was, then they had truly broken my spirit, and I could not let them have all of me.

I'm not sure how long I had been here because the days and nights ran together in the caves, but the training was brutal. There was a lot of hand-to-hand combat training as well as firearm training. The hand-to-hand combat was fun, and the firearm training was ok, but I didn't like the idea of having to shoot anyone other than Omar and his guys. It seemed like the training lasted forever. It was the same thing every day, up at the crack of dawn and drills all day until I was so exhausted, I fell into bed most nights still in my clothes. They kept us in the caves most of the time, only going outside for firearms training until we started going on simulated missions where we were expected to work as a team.

We were broken down into teams of four to train in squads. I was paired with three other guys Reed, Jose, and Hazem. At first, I just did what I needed to do to get buy. I didn't talk or hang out with the guys other than when we were training. But, in the end, Reed broke through my wall and got me to speak with him outside of training. What I found out was that, like me, he and Jose didn't believe anything that Ahmed had to say either. The more I got to know the two of them, the more I began to trust them somewhat. It wasn't long before we were spending all of our free time training together. Jose was originally from Brazil and began teaching us capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art that combines elements of dance, acrobatics, and music. Reed was from America and was a golden glove boxer before being captured, so he taught us how to box, and I taught them how to use swords.

After about a year, Omar loaded up what had become my squad into a vehicle and took us to the nearest town, and told us to blend in and try to get as much information on the enemy (Americans) as we could and report back to the truck at midnight. We were told this was the final test of our loyalty and would decide what came next. I was pretty sure if we failed, nothing good would happen. We were all dressed in civilian clothes so that we could blend in. I wasn't sure where we were because nothing looked familiar.

I decided to keep my head down and try to find out as much as I could, and hopefully, I could come up with an escape plan. We were told that we were to split up and find out as much as we could. I wandered around for a while just to get my bearings. When I noticed I was being followed by one of the trainers from camp. I guess they didn't trust us enough not to run. Whatever, I just head to the market, where there were plenty of people, and I could blend in and hopefully overhear some information that would be useful. As I walked the streets, I overheard plenty of things about the resistance and the presence of the foreign troops, but the most significant discovery for me was the fact that it had been almost three years since the school bombing. I couldn't believe it! There wasn't really any troop presence here as far as I could tell, so I tried to find the local medical clinic. We were taught that they often had foreign doctors that sometimes had helpful information. So far, most people here were speaking either Arabic or Kurdish, but once inside the clinic, the doctors spoke English. Luckily, I spoke all three and then some, which has helped me more than a few times.

I wasn't sure, but I didn't think many at the camp spoke English except for Reed, Jose, and me, so I thought I might find out something no one else could, and maybe they would trust me more. Even though I hadn't caused any more trouble after the first few months, the officers, as they called themselves, were still leery of me and my commitment to their cause, especially Omar. He hated me and was always trying to get me alone so he could 'punish' me. I walked in and checked in with the desk. The girl asked me what I needed. I told her I needed a vaccination. I didn't think that there would be more than one kind, so when she asked which one, I froze up. She realized I was confused, but she just thought I didn't understand her, so it gave me time to think. All I could think of was yellow fever because it was the last thing we had studied in science class.

Apparently, it worked because she told me to have a seat, and the doctor would see me shortly. There were quite a few people in the waiting area, speaking many different languages, most of which I could understand. I sat there for hours, waiting and listening before it was my turn. When I was shown to the room, there were two armed guards at the door who looked to be American. I went in and waited for the doctor. When she came in, she said her name was Dr. Griffin, but I could call her Abby. She also looked American and had the most beautiful green eyes. I introduced myself as Lexa and told her I needed a yellow fever shot. She seemed surprised that I spoke English and asked where I was from and how old I was. I told her I grew up in an orphanage, so I didn't really know where I was from but that I had lived here for the last few years. I also told her that I had just turned twenty. She told me that she had a daughter about my age back home in the States and rambled on about how she was here to help the locals and wished the war would finally end. Something about the way she spoke about her work here and her daughter made me think that she was really believed she could help the people of this region or else she wouldn't have left her daughter to be here.

Soon one of the guards from the door told Abby to wrap it up and that they needed to leave soon to get back to their base. Abby wasn't happy about this because the waiting room was still full, and she said they wouldn't be back in town for a few weeks. She also said that she would be glad when they finished the new FOB (forward operating base) because it would be much closer. She turned back to me and asked if I had ever had the yellow fever vaccine. I told her that I wasn't sure. I just knew I didn't want to catch it. She laughed and said she couldn't give it to me without knowing for sure if I had already been vaccinated, but she could do a blood draw and run some tests, then next time they were back, I could find out if I needed the vaccination and go from there. I agreed, and once she was finished, I thanked her for her help.

Afterward, I headed out to the market to just enjoy being outside of those caves and on my own, well, sort of, I was still being followed. Finally, at midnight, we all piled back into the truck and headed back to what I call hell. On the ride back, we were instructed not to talk to one another and that once back at camp, we would be put in different rooms to be debriefed one at a time. This lasted through the night. Once we had all been 'debriefed,' they stood us all together and ranked us from one to ten. We had no idea what the rankings were for, but they explained that the one with the most helpful information was number one and would be moved to more advanced training to become a squad leader. The rest would be split into various other occupations. I couldn't believe that I was ranked first!

Ahmed, the camp leader, was impressed when he found out that I could speak English and was able to get the information about the new FOB and when the doctors and troops would be back to town. He even called it genius that I let them take blood so that I would have a reason to return and get more information. I guess he didn't realize that was pure luck, but hey, now at least he trusted me, at least a little. The next few weeks, I underwent long hours of training. I learned so many new things, including how not to break under extreme torture, which I was already skilled at after the first year or so. I also continued to train in knife throwing and using a sword continued my mixed martial arts (MMA) training, learning as many new types as possible. After a month of training, Ahmed received intel that the doctor was back in town, so he had Omar take me back into town to see what else I could find out.

It seemed they didn't entirely trust me enough to go alone, though. Ahmed sent his second in command, Omar, with me to make sure I didn't run or give up any of their information, not that I knew very much. In his defense, this was smart for him but bad for me. Luckily, Omar didn't speak a lick of English, so hopefully, I would be able to get him to stay in the waiting room while I saw Abby. Luck was on my side today, and Abby came to the waiting room to get me. When Omar stood to go with me, I introduced him as my brother and asked Abby to make him wait in the waiting area. She simply gave me a look and said to him that he would have to wait out here. He, of course, didn't understand, so I had to translate. He started to argue with me, but Abby stepped in and told him it was against the rules, and he would have to wait. He finally gave in and said he would wait.

As we walked to the examination room, Abby asked me about Omar. I told her he wasn't actually my brother by blood, just someone I grew up in the orphanage with, and he was a little overprotective. She just looked at me, and I could tell she didn't really believe me, but she wasn't going to ask too many questions. Again, there were guards posted outside the examination rooms, but unlike last time I recognized one of them. Before I could say anything, I heard Blake say my name, and I was lifted off the ground in a bear hug. Abby looked surprised but couldn't say anything before Blake started rambling about how he thought I was dead, and he spent months trying to find me after Ahmed bombed the school.

I wasn't sure what to do, I wanted to talk, but I didn't want Omar to hear the commotion and come looking for me. I finally got him to quiet down and motioned for him to go into the room so we could talk. Blake looked at the other guard and told her to keep watch while he spoke to me. Abby asked if she should leave us alone for a few minutes but for some reason, I trusted her, so I told her to join us. Once inside, Blake started asking a million questions. I told him that I didn't have much time so I couldn't tell him much. I instead asked him what he knew about the bombing of the school. He told me what he knew, which wasn't much except that it was bombed by Ahmed, and everyone was presumed dead because they found no survivors. He said he looked for me even though once the rubble was cleared, everyone else stopped looking. He said he checked every clinic and hospital for months, hoping to find me. I couldn't believe that anyone cared that much about me. It was all I could do not to cry. He started asking me questions again, but I knew I was running out of time. Omar would be getting anxious soon.

I promised him I would explain everything eventually, but I had to get going, or Omar would come looking for me. He asked who Omar was, and Abby told him he was my brother. Blake looked at me, confused. I gave him a short version, basically telling him that Omar was there to make sure I didn't try and escape. This angered him and Abby both, and they told me that they could get me out of there and protect me. I tried to explain that they couldn't, and Ahmed's people would hunt me down no matter where I went, plus I couldn't leave Reed and Jose. I tried to explain as much as I could quickly and promised I would be back soon and tell them everything, but right now, I needed to go. Blake began to argue that I wasn't leaving and he would protect me, but I told him the only way I would really be free is to get out of the country, and he couldn't do that.

I asked him if he was stationed nearby or if he was still at his old location. That's when I realized that he could tell me where I was and how far from the school I was. He told me that they had finished the new base not far from here and that we were about 500 miles from the town where the school was located. He said that this town was between Kabul and the Panjshir valley called Banow. Abby spoke up then and said that she could take more blood samples and run some more tests so that I would have a reason to come back in a few weeks. That is when I realized she hadn't told me the test results, which was the reason I came back. I asked her about them, and she said everything looked normal and that I had already had the yellow fever vaccine, from what she could tell. She said that if it were alright with me, she would take a DNA sample and run it through the international database in hopes of finding out where I was from. She would then walk me back out and tell Omar that I needed to return in a few weeks to get the results. She said she would need my full name and date of birth. I told her my name was Alexandria Sahar 'Lexa' Trikru, but I had also gone by Alexander Sahib 'Zander' Trikru for three years, and I was born on April 22, 2001, I thought. She gave me a strange look, and I told her that Blake could explain it to her.

I allowed Abby to do the test she needed and then said goodbye to Blake. He wasn't happy about me leaving, but he knew better than to try and stop me. Instead, he told me that he would work on a plan and let me know what he figured out next time I came in. Abby walked me out, and as we stood at the doorway to the waiting room, she told me to come back in two weeks and tell whoever needed to know that they were checking me for malaria. I thanked her and walked away.