Part 5
TW: Hypodermic needle
Dundas Castle, New York, 2.5 years earlier
Ashton flipped the dusty book shut, silently slid it onto the equally dusty shelf, and looked out the window over the railing of the stone balcony at the trees cutting into the grey sky. She and her father moved every few months, usually into some secret, abandoned castle, mansion, rustic cabin, or other hidden structure. Ashton had figured out that there was something different about her father a long time ago. He taught her about all manner of things, from how to make perfect fast-acting poisons and their antidotes to safely and accurately using all kinds of weapons and even how to care for the injuries sustained from them. One of the things that he had taught her the most about, though, was how to disappear. When he wasn't teaching, he was working. He had an 'office' on the other side of the castle from Ashton's bedroom that she was not allowed in, but he spent most of his time 'in the field'.
Since the two were the only occupants of the isolated castle and the elder was out for hours and occasionally days at a time, Ashton had lots of time to fill. After about two months she had explored every inch of the building and moved on to the grounds and surrounding forest. There was a lake nearby that she regularly relaxed by. She thought back to the past few days of sitting and reading by the lake. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she remembered the feeling of being watched that had grown in the last week. The castle was rumored to be haunted and severely damaged, so usually no one even came close to disturbing her family's peace. She realized that somewhere, deep in her curious, social-interaction-deprived brain, she hoped that there was another person that she could talk to at the lake.
As Ashton speculated, she wandered through the castle. Subconsciously, she weaved closer and closer to her father's office door. One of the things she wondered about was her father's profession. Every piece of evidence pointed to one career choice: professional assassin. The thought made her shiver. She had strong morals, and she didn't like the idea that the person closest to her was a killer.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call coming from inside the office. It didn't take the kid long to make her choice. She tugged a bobby pin out of her hair and removed a paperclip from her belt. She bent them out of shape and shoved them into the lock. When she heard a click, she pushed open the door. Two large filing cabinets stood one side of the room, and she saw a beat-up, wooden desk on the other side of the room. There was a single file folder open on the desk, its large stack of contents spread out over the entire surface. Papers were mixed together with photographs and other seemingly random items; there was even a poster for some theatre production called "Cleo Rocks." Ashton thought something was unusual about all this- her father was never this messy. She reached down to pick up the phone, but it suddenly stopped ringing. She noticed an upside-down picture that had been knocked to the floor, lifted it off the ground, and turned it over.
There was a single man in the picture. He wore a brown leather jacket and a had a long, light-brown mullet on his head. Bold choice, she thought. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and she thought he was very handsome. Looking back at the desk, she noticed that every picture on the desk was of this same man. She noticed the words on the folder's tab:
MacGYVER - PHOENIX FOUNDATION
This must be his next target, Ashton realized suddenly. She sifted through the papers, building the picture in her mind of MacGyver. He seemed to be a great guy - involved in all kinds of nonprofit organizations. She saw a list laying beneath the folder that said "Phoenix Safehouses" at the top and had a list of number and letter codes on it.
Ashton was so focused on the files spread in front of her that she didn't hear the quiet footsteps behind her on the stone tile. She accidently dropped one of the photos on the ground and bent down to pick it up.
The burly man behind her thrust a long, thin needle into the side of her neck and injected a cloudy liquid into her bloodstream. She gasped as a burning pain shot into her body, and, as she felt herself losing consciousness, she folded the picture and discreetly shoved it into one of her black leather boots.
Ashton heard the man say one last thing as her vision blacked out.
"Jameson to HIT 4, I have Murdoc's daughter."
And there's chapter 5! I know that it took a while-sorry about that. Happy holidays, everyone! Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you feel so led!
