The following week
Tuesday night
Getting the twins to bed had been a goddamned nightmare!
They were just too excited and I couldn't exactly blame them – the next day was to be a very special day for them both. Dave and I had spent a lot of time considering gifts for them both, but we had both come back to one very simple gift for each of them.
Plus, one slightly larger gift, each.
The next morning
Wednesday
The dynamic duo was up at dawn!
We were way ahead of them, though and we were waiting as they pounded down the stairs like a herd of marauding elephants and surged into the living room. Behind them came a rather tired looking Stephanie.
"They woke me up!" She grumbled as the young girl dropped onto the couch and curled up into a ball.
"Happy birthday, kids!" Dave announced.
"We getting presents?" Danny asked casually.
"I've forgotten... How old are you two?" I asked innocently.
"Eight!" Anne-Marie retorted as she raised her voice. "We – are – EIGHT!"
"Oh – right..." I laughed. "Sit down, both of you."
Danny and Anne-Marie sat down on the couch rather roughly and ignored their big sister, Stephanie, who tried in vain to get back to sleep.
"You get your normal presents, this afternoon, after school – but these presents..." Dave indicated the four wrapped presents that I had just placed on the table. "These presents are very special and under no circumstances should they be discussed outside of Fusion – understand?"
"Yes, Dad..." The twins responded seriously.
…_...
I handed each child a small present each to unwrap. They were identical, with almost identical contents. The paper did not last long and soon the dozing Stephanie was covered in torn wrapping paper. Each child then held a small polished wooden box and both seemed a little apprehensive about opening the box.
"What?" I asked. "Open them already!"
Anne-Marie looked over at her brother and they both opened the boxes together.
"Wow!" Danny exclaimed.
"Awesome..." Anne-Marie added as she brought out the contents of her box.
It was a pattern called Pink Raindrop and the aluminium 4.25-inch handles in Pink Raindrop satin finish, enclosed a 3.25-inch hollow-grind, clip-point, steel blade. Anne-Marie looked stunned as she skilfully flipped the knife open.
"Okay, what is the proper name for that?" I asked.
"Balisong!" Anne-Marie announced.
"Otherwise known as...?" I asked Danny as he flipped open his own Blue Raindrop satin finish Balisong.
"A Butterfly knife!" He replied eagerly.
"You each hold a Bear Song IV Balisong – they are sharp and very deadly, so please be careful! You've both been shown how to use one of those and I want you both to train with those blades..." I began.
"... Only they will never leave this house without our express permission!" Dave finished.
"Open the other presents!" A now very wide-awake Stephanie insisted having abandoned all hope of getting back to sleep and having fought out from under the wrapping paper.
..._...
The other two presents were much larger and much heavier.
Stephanie seemed more excited than the twins and as the paper was ripped off; she looked up at me in surprise – she had recognised what was rapidly being revealed from under the wrapping paper. Even if the twins had not. Anne-Marie finished first and she frowned at what she found before her.
"Walt... Walter?" She tried, reading the markings on the top of the case.
"Walther..." Stephanie corrected from behind Anne-Marie.
The now eight-year-old young girl carefully opened the black resin case. I think she actually stopped breathing for a moment, her mouth hung open in shock and surprise.
"Fuck me!" Stephanie exclaimed as she saw the contents of both Anne-Marie's and Danny's cases.
..._...
I raised an eyebrow at Stephanie's profanity and the girl blushed, but I let it slide. Inside each box was a...
"Walther P22 Black in .22 long rifle calibre..." Stephanie lectured unable to restrain herself. "Polymer frame with diecast zinc slide. Two drop safeties and firing pin block. Integrated laser sight on a standard Picatinny rail. Weighs about seventeen ounces and has a magazine capacity of ten rounds."
"Thanks, Steph – very accurate!"
Stephanie smiled at the praise. Both pistols had the frame coloured to match the handles on the Balisong knives. The twins were stunned at what they held before them.
"Those are yours – same rules as the knives. Stephanie and Saoirse will teach you both to use them correctly and safely."
Both twins jumped up and hugged Dave and me very tightly.
..._...
"Give 'em mine..." Stephanie suggested.
I pulled out two more packages and passed them over to the twins, who attacked them excitedly.
"Cool – thanks, Steph!" Anne-Marie exclaimed.
With a swift flick of her wrist, she extended the 16-inch expandable baton from inside the pink rubber handle. The black, anodised steel baton would hurt anybody who was struck. Danny flicked open his own, keeping a secure grip on the blue rubber handle.
"I like it Steph, thanks."
Stephanie now blushed as her younger siblings hugged her and they both gave her a kiss.
Saoirse came over that night.
She had requested a chat with Anne-Marie – I knew what it was about, too.
"Hi, kid!" Saoirse said cheerfully.
"Hi, SD!" Anne-Marie replied.
"It wasn't Hit Girl that brought me down. It wasn't Psyche, either. It was you."
Anne-Marie looked apprehensively towards me. I smiled reassuringly.
"You were really brave, placing your cell phone under the saddle of my motorcycle."
Anne-Marie blushed with the compliment.
"Without you, Anne-Marie – Hit Girl would never have found me..."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be – I'm glad to be away from that; believe me!" Saoirse confirmed. "I want to reward your courage – Stephanie told me what happened to you in the Caribbean... You're gonna make a damn good vigilante – over time."
"Assuming I don't spend my days running around the damn Safehouse!" Anne-Marie replied sourly with a cheeky smirk.
"Rogue suits you!" Saoirse commented as she passed over a package.
..._...
It was long and thin.
Inside was a polished mahogany case with brass fittings.
"Wow!" Anne-Marie breathed as she lifted the wooden lid.
Inside were two identical butterfly swords. They were full tang and the blade made up 12-inches of the overall 17-inch length. The blades were highly polished and intended for chopping and stabbing. The grip or quillion was designed for easy reverse grip or flipping. The fuller, or blood-groove, was deep and would prove very useful.
"I'll personally train you to use those – they are as good as my own, maybe better..."
Anne-Marie did not know what to say and neither did I... I knew that Saoirse was giving Anne-Marie some swords, but I had not expected anything so special.
..._...
"They're amazing, Saoirse, thank you..." I said for the dumb-struck girl.
"They are both very special kids and Anne-Marie shows maturity beyond her tender years – at times..." Saoirse commented.
"Thank you."
Three days later
Saturday afternoon
Safehouse F
It was strange seeing two eight-year-olds, each with a pistol on their right hip.
Anne-Marie had actually developed a swagger to go with her pistol! They had driven Dave, me and Stephanie up the wall since Wednesday morning. Both of them wanted to use their new weapons as soon as possible – which to them meant right at that moment!
First came the pistols. Between Stephanie and Saoirse, both Anne-Marie and Danny learnt their pistols inside and out. Before they were allowed to fire them, they had to learn to strip and reassemble them, how to cope with a jam and how to operate the safety features.
Anne-Marie got cocky and ended up going for a run around the Safehouse; she only had to do two laps, but that was enough to keep her trap shut.
..._...
Two hours later, the twins were in the range and we started with Anne-Marie – well, she did have some shooting experience, after all. Stephanie stood slightly behind and to the left of her sister.
"Spread your legs – wider . . . raise the pistol, holding it in both hands. Now, keep that position..."
I felt like I was back on Buck Island.
I felt scared all over again as I wrapped my small hands around the butt of the small pistol – small it may have been, but the Walther P22 was still large in my hands. I was shaking from head to toe at the thought of the power that I held in my hands. Instead of there being a live man as my target, there was only a paper target two dozen feet away. My sister gently whispered encouraging words into my ear as her slightly larger hands helped to brace the pistol.
"Breathe in and out, in and out. Keep calm, both eyes open, aim the pistol at your target – centre mass – the chest is good..."
Unbidden, I saw an image of that man's eyes which had been wide with fear. What had shocked me back then, was that I had actually enjoyed the man's fear; I had been in control, instead of him – he had been at my mercy. Steph's gentle whispering continued as I focussed on my target.
"When you are ready, gently squeeze the trigger, again and again... All five rounds."
I focussed along the top of the weapon, keeping both eyes open. Then, as my breathing became slow and regular, I gently squeezed the trigger. The pistol jerked in my hand. My brain registered a flash, followed by a large bang and some smoke. I squeezed again, and again, and again – five times I squeezed before the slide locked back on the empty magazine.
"Don't move!" I was warned by Stephanie. "Safety on!"
I flipped the lever at the rear of the pistol downwards as instructed.
"Eject the magazine!"
I pressed the magazine catch and the magazine dropped free onto the counter.
"Check the pistol is clear!"
I kept the pistol pointed down the range and checked that the chamber was empty.
"Pistol is clear!" I reported.
"Check your magazine!"
Holding the pistol with one hand, I visually checked my magazine – it was empty.
"Clear the action!"
I inserted the empty magazine, thumbed forward the slide release and then, with Steph's help, I held the hammer and lightly squeezed the trigger and lowered the hammer forwards. The pistol was now safe.
"Action cleared!" I reported as I placed the pistol down onto the counter.
I turned to see several smiling faces and broke into a smile myself.
"Well done, Rogue!" Stephanie announced.
"Very good!" Mom added.
We took a break for some food and sat in the galley talking.
Saoirse was talking to the twins.
"Your mother has a reputation – a reputation that she has earned..." She said. "When I knew that I was going to face her; I had been so scared... Now, you can learn from your mother and gain a reputation like she has. There is an advantage to having a reputation; people don't want to fuck with you..."
"Wise words, kid!" Chloe commented.
..._...
True to her word, Saoirse began to teach Anne-Marie how to use the Butterfly Swords. Initially they remained in their covers as they were beyond lethal. As I watched, my daughter was taught to draw the swords from inverted scabbards on her back and bring them up into a fighting stance. She repeated the movements dozens of times until Saoirse was happy that Anne-Marie could do it in her sleep.
While that was happening, Danny was shooting and I had to admit, he was good. He could hold the pistol better and control it without too much outside assistance.
That night
The kids were happy but tired.
It had been great to be able to go out and just be a family for a change. Then, as per my usual luck, the night had started to go all to shit!
"Well, well – you look like you'd have a nice fat wallet!"
"I am going to warn you just once – don't go there!" Dave growled as the three men blocked our progress down the sidewalk.
I looked sideways at my husband and I winked, then I looked down at the kids – Stephanie was already moving a few steps away from me to give herself space to fight. Anne-Marie and Danny looked a little scared but they too braced up, game for some action.
The men took no notice of the warning and stepped forwards – they saw an easy mark... Their cockiness only lasted a few seconds as one of them laid a hand on my arm – he hit the sidewalk two seconds later and his nose exploded sending blood all over the place.
The other two hesitated, but they must have decided that my actions were a fluke... Then it all went to hell as Stephanie dove forwards and kicked a man in the leg. Dave punched out at the bigger of the two men and they fought while I defended the twins from the other man. They must have had a watcher as I saw another man appear and I was forced to leave the twins as the man brought out a pistol.
I caught his arm as it came up and disarmed him in a second – the pistol fell to the sidewalk – I struck the man in the throat and he went down, but kicked out and I went down beside him. As I got back to my feet, I took in the scene before me.
Three men were down and out. Stephanie was rubbing her left upper arm, but Dave was ready to explode. Then I saw what he was looking at. The other man had hold of Anne-Marie; an arm wrapped around her waist and the pistol to her head. Danny was behind Dave. I pushed down my anger and yes, I pushed down the fear. I spoke directly to my daughter, ignoring the man.
"Now, honey, don't be scared – just think it through and use what we taught you the other week," I said carefully and encouragingly.
I was scared, but I knew that I could get out of the situation.
The other week's training jumped into my mind and I worked out a plan of action. My arms were trying to pry the man's arm away from me, but I stopped; I was far too small and weak to move his arm but instead, I had skills! Without warning, I flung my head back hard and it collided with something that made the man cry out in pain. At the same time, I dug my hand into the waistband of my skirt and pulled out my birthday present – I flicked open the ultra-sharp blade in a single fluid and smooth movement and drove the 3.25-inch blade into his side – not surprisingly, he dropped me and I spun around, then kicked him in the face as he reached for my Balisong which stuck out from his side.
The man bellowed and he tried to get back up, so I punched him in the nose.
"Stay the fuck down, bastard!" I yelled as the man fell back, blood pouring from his smashed nose.
"What have I told you about your language, Anne-Marie – that'll cost you two bucks for swearing in public!" Dad exclaimed as I reached down for my Balisong.
"WHAT!" I responded as I cleaned off my blade and after I had flicked the knife closed again, I stowed it back in the waistband of my skirt.
"Back to the car – move young lady!" Mom said sternly.
My life sucked!
"Yes, Mom!"
"Very good, Rogue, well done!" Dad whispered into my ear and I grinned with pride.
We left the four men on the sidewalk and continued with our evening as if nothing had happened.