Nine Open Eyes

Mission 1123

They'd shared the fruit, and had been good friends since.

It turned out that most of Annie's clothes were gotten as hand me downs, from charity or goodwill and sometimes, sometimes  even stolen from the wealthier upper class.

Walking away from the bus station to the Azizia Street and entering Sycamore lane, Allison smiled at the memory. At the many memories she'd made here, with all of her friends.

Her yellow sneakers screeched to a halt at the pavement outside her house. Standing in the driveway was a black Mercedes Benz.

Her heart pounded uncomfortably.

Even from the pavement she could make out the license plate, it was a San Tokisco vehicle. She lost all feeling in her legs. Flashes of a world she'd long forgotten ran through her mind.

Burning embers and a scream, people pointing in streets, kids sneering at her face and newspaper headlines. So many headlines.

Her breath hitched and she felt light headed. Unable to grasp the reality of the situation before her, she began heaving for air.

Hold yourself together, whispered a small voice inside her.

Yes, she had to hold it. Like she had for six years.

Allison forced herself to think straight. Rational. Immediately she jogged over to a tree and stood behind it. She took out her phone, maybe her mother had texted her. Maybe her father.

No calls. No alarming messages. No sign of argument inside the house.

Yet her feet remained unwilling. She clung to the bark of the tree. What if they'd come to take her? Execute her somehow? After all, a living Fae connection in the human world was too much of a vulnerability.

Not caring whether the Fae inside could hear her or not, she scaled the tree. Five carefully placed steps had her midway and fifteen feet off the ground. She waited then, waited for them to leave. To give up.

Half an hour passed. The minutes stretching to infinities. Her fear grew with each passing moment.

An hour passed. Something coiled and vicious moved in her gut at the thought of what could be happening inside.

Two hours later, the fear had mostly subsided and replaced with wariness. Maybe she'd been wrong, maybe her father had brought a new car.

It wasn't the best explanation but she accepted it. Relief flooded her veins, a deep breath escaped her lips and she made her way to the front door.

The keys dropped twice before she inserted the purple metal key into the lock and opened the door. The grandfather clock across the short, wide reception hall read half past eight.

Allison walked over to the living room, her balance nearly toppling as she halted herself. Sitting on the blue couch beside the fireplace were two suited men. Opposite to them sat her foster parents, Brad and Jane Grynn.

She gulped.

"We've been waiting quite a while for you Ms. Grynn"

*

Kaufman's POV

Jan Kaufman, Minister for Intelligence Services, stared at what he seemed to deem as the worst trained secretary in history.

"You sent Josh Rydzinski and Niklas Hubbard to retrieve an 18-year-old Fae girl?"

"Sir, it said on the case file that she has no extraordinary powers whatsoever", replied Mrs. Leanna indignantly.