Christin Solomon
Chapter 31-Mystery Person
A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews! I had a horrible writer's block, but my dad helped me get over it, go figure. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter.
Mystery Person's POV
I watched the targets drive by. There were five boys and two girls, a black SUV with tinted windows concealed there faces, but I knew who they were. The teenage girl that was sitting in the third row in between two boys had ruined my life. As I waited for them to reach the end point, my mind went back a decade before.
"You must come with me!" The blond haired girl could only be nine years old, the same age as me. The way she spoke in French sounded almost too perfect. There was no accent to be heard, but yet the urgency in the way she acted exposed her foreigner side to me.
"I will not! If I must, I will die in my master's home!" I refused her request. I was a simple peasant who worked in the Master's kitchen. My mother was head cook. But I was much more than that if you knew my secret. Master would have me serve guests that were not in the same room, because I remembered everything I heard. Even once, I had saved my master's life when one of his business partners had plotted to kill him. Master rewarded me wonderfully if I come back with interesting information. But in the back of my mind, I knew Master wasn't a completely innocent man either. Once, I had snuck a glance at the title of a log that read, Deaths. Yet, I did not fear the man who gave me prizes for my services. One day, a blond hair, blue eyed girl with French braids stayed at my master's house with her father, similar looks ran between them. There was a banquet that night in honor of a recent sale of a company. Before I went out to listen that night, my master slipped a weird contraption into my hands. It had seconds ticking down on a little timer with a single wire connecting it to the box.
"Put this in the new man's pocket. Then excuse yourself. If all goes as planned, I will make you a princess. You will never have to work in that nasty, rat infested kitchen again with those other slum bathers. You will walk into a room where everyone will bow their heads in respect and you can order whoever you choose around. But if the plan fails, you must remain in this house . . . Never to be seen again, understand?" Master placed the box in my apron pocket. I nodded, promising to do as I was told, and went into the Library where the new man and his daughter were talking to very powerful business men. The daughter locked eyes with me and then squeezed her father's hand as if for reassurance. He smiled and ushered her to go play with the other children, but she did not budge, and instead held her ground against my approach. How was I supposed to get the box into his pocket with his daughter watching every move? But I got an idea and smiled evilly internally.
"Would you like to play?" I asked her. She shook her head and looked up at her father for support. He ruffled her hair lovingly and spoke in gentle French.
"Go play sweet child," He encouraged. He squeezed her hand gently and she finally released his. Stepping forward hesitantly, she followed me out of the room. Awkwardly, she locked her gaze on the Coat of Arms above the door, the perfect opportunity for me to slip the box into her father's pocket. I wondered what it was going to do. I took her to the kitchen, explained that I needed to put a couple of snacks on the table before playing. She nodded and started to explore the kitchen when I left. When I returned, she was in a back corner, standing in front of an old broken down stove that lit on fire whenever you turned it on, which seemed to be her intent.
"No!" I yelled, rushing toward her, but her hand was already twisting the heat button. The stove lit to life, smoke blew everywhere, preventing me from seeing anything for a moment, and the sprinklers began.
"Escape! Escape!" Someone screamed in terror.
"What have you done?" I shrieked at the girl. Suddenly, I realized the box was a bomb and the plan had been to blow up her father.
"You ruined everything!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
"You must come with me!" She commanded, grabbing my wrist, and yanking us toward the nearest exit. I struggled against her, she was very strong though, and my heels drug a few centimeters.
"I will not! If I must, I will die in my master's home!" I said in defiance. Her hand snapped out and hit me in the back of my neck. I collapsed, but she threw me over her shoulder, and ran through the exit. Carefully, she put me down on the ground, and ran to her father.
"Mirabelle!" He cooed in relief as he lifted her up and hugged her tightly. My mother was staring at the flames. I tugged on her sleeve when I was able to regain my footing and balance.
"There is nothing left. The Master died in the flames. We might as well die too," My mother said in despair. I stepped away from her in shock. She didn't want revenge; she just wanted to give up. But I knew whose fault it was. I turned to glare at the two people responsible for my master's death, but they were no where to be seen, as if they had never existed. I would get revenge, no matter what it took.
Now I stood here on the coast of France, waiting for the bomb on the side of the road to go off. My first attempt for her death had failed, when she had been playing soccer, and I had a professional sniper try to kill her. A black haired, gold eyed girl had saved her, and she would be my next target for interfering. A loud boom echoed and the SUV flipped until it landed right side up. They couldn't have lived. Now their futures had been taken away, ripped, shredded, they had no chance, just like what had happened to mine. I straightened up and walked away, whistling softly to myself, enjoying the taste of sweet revenge on my tongue.
***********************************In a Wrecked SUV***********************************
Christin's POV
"Babe?" James whispered. I opened my eyes. My body refused to move besides that small movement. My legs and arms were bleeding, and sticking out of my thigh was a big shard of glass from the window.
"Hey. Are you alright? Nothing too serious?" Well, everything was serious at the moment but I was trying to be positive, for James at least.
"Yeah, I have an amazing black hair, black eyed girl to live for," He smiled his crooked smile and with a lot of pain, I ran my fingers through the back of his fine, curly hair.
"Can anybody reach a cell phone?" Chris croaked.
"I think so," I murmured. Slowly, I pulled mine out and dialed the CIA Director's number.
"Hello?" It was an emergency number, and he picked up on the first ring. Thank God.
"It's Christin Solomon. We've been in a road side bombing in France, on the coast, and I have a piece of glass sticking out of my leg to prove it." I hung up and waited for the ambulance to come and take us to a hospital. We all started talking, about the little things, the big things, the things in between. We were trying to survive in the best way we knew how.
A/N: I know who the Mystery Person is and none of you do! Just kidding, you'll find out in the next chapter, cross my heart and hope to well . . . Spy? I'm so excited its summer. Put a smiley face in your review if you're excited its summer too or you can't wait for summer if some of you aren't out of school yet! Review Please!