There's a private beach on Nico's property that is absolutely beautiful. I haven't been to the beach since I was a little kid so I wander down to the water, the warm sand under my feet. As per Nico's security detail, there are a handful of armed men walking around.
I sit down in the sand and bury my feet. It's quiet and serene as I watch the waves. I understand now why my dad never really took us to the beach; it's a vulnerable place to be. Nothing to hide behind, difficult to run, mass amounts of civilians; an assassins worst nightmare. But fuck if it isn't peaceful.
A child screams and I glance down the beach where the sand is full of people. Colorful umbrellas and muffled speakers dot the crowded beach. Something red catches my eye and I do a double take. I walk over and pick up the small rock with furrowed brows. My jaw ticks and I scan the beach.
At the very edge of Nico's property, is a red t-shirt tied to the fence. I walk over, my hands curled into fists. I better be fucking wrong.
"Come out," I demand as I look around.
The cold barrel of a gun presses against the back of my head and I sigh. I turn with my arms folded and glare at Alex whose gun is now pressed to my forehead.
"How did you find me?" I ask, grabbing my knife and pressing it to his neck.
"Oh shut up," he scoffs, holstering his gun, "you know as well as me that you haven't been discreet. I got a hit from that charity auction last night."
I drop my gaze to the ground with a huff and sheath the blade. He's right. I hate when he's right.
"I could've corrupted the files later," I tell him.
"Liar," he says before asking, "what are you even doing here?"
"Whatever the fuck I want," I retort, looking up at him, "why are you here?"
He rolls his eyes and hands me a file, "just read this."
I take the file from his hands and flip through the report. Each word makes my insides shatter and my face drops.
"It's a double incident report," he says, nodding towards my hands, "the day your mom was killed and your mission the other day."
Colt wasn't lying when he said that dad didn't mean it, that he didn't know what he was doing.
Eighteen years ago, my mom was on an extraction and execution mission at a large banquet. During this mission, my dad was tasked with eliminating her. She had questioned too many missions, too often. Half way through the banquet, my dad sniped my mom, killing her instantly.
In the second report, it claims a mental break. He thought I was my mom. He thought his mission was to kill me.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I ask, holding up the file.
"I wanted you to know the truth," he says, "none of them know I'm here. Look Caliber, I need you to know that I never wanted to lie to you even back then. I always thought you deserved to know the truth and I still do. That's why I'm here. I'm giving you a heads up."
"A heads up?" I ask, shaking my head, "for what?"
"Bychkov is looking for you," he says and the world stops spinning. I nod and look away, forcing air into my lungs.
"Remove your chip and keep a low profile," he instructs, "stay away from your brother and Daniel. Evan is always safe, you know that, and if you need me I'll be there."
I simply nod. I feel like a little kid again. Being scolded and told what to do. But honestly, I'm scared, which isn't something that happens often. Bychkov is a horrifying man that I've had the misfortune of working with. He's the director of the specialized intelligence agency.
Right after my mom died, he showed up for the first time. He demanded that both Colt and I fight him so we did. Colt broke both arms and I broke my leg. I was five.
He came back about a year later and made us a mobile team, forcing us from our family home and on the run. We never lived anywhere long because of him and the missions he assigned were never ending. I honestly forgot my name for a few years due to the constant change in aliases.
"What would happen if he found me?" I hesitantly ask.
"I'm not sure," Alex sighs, "from what I've heard, you might need to kill him before he kills you."
I nod and bite down on my lip, "thanks."
"What are friends for?" he shrugs before growing serious, "I don't know what you're doing or why the fuck you're doing it but be safe. I don't know why you're being so reckless and cavalier but it needs to stop. You're not a stupid girl so don't act like one."
"I know," I sigh, nodding, "can you get my chip for me?"
"Of course," he says quietly.
He pulls out his switchblade and I roll up my sleeve. Alex prods at my bicep before finding the small chip. He glances at me and I nod before he slices into the flesh. I grimace and he digs with the knife before pulling the bloodied tech from my arm.
"I'll take it back to Base with me," he says, tucking it in his pocket, "he won't know anything until he gets there."
"I owe you," I tell him with a small smile.
"Damned right you do," he chuckles.
He pulls me into a tight hug and I press my cheek to his chest. He pulls back and taps two of his fingers against my temple. I smile and do the same to him.
It's something my dad taught us. You keep your memories in your mind, so no one can find them. But sometimes you need to remind yourself to pay attention, to lock in a memory.
"You should leave before security notices you," I say, glancing over my shoulder at the pacing men.
"I've been here for three hours," Alex says, shaking his head, "fucking brutes."
I roll my eyes but laugh nonetheless. I tuck the case file into the waistband of my jeans and pull my shirt over it. Alex gives me a curt nod before walking away. I sigh and run my hand down my face.
Why can't I ever have some fucking peace?