"I think I'm old enough for a little respect."
In the winter of 1922, teens Vivian and Gilbert watch their family disintegrate. Their chemist father always travels. Their mom seems awfully interested in that slick traveling salesman - and in drinkin...
The woman in black inclined her head toward the Sopwith. "Adam," she said, "that is not a car. What do we do?"
"We wait, Eva. Someone will be along soon." The man in black gripped his gun tighter. He also shifted his grip on a valise carried in his other hand. Larger than a lawyer's briefcase, the valise could carry a great many papers.
Ace kept her hands low. She hovered over Jillian Fernwood, her back toward the spies. In this position, her body hid from the black-clad duo the crowbar stuck through her belt. Ace saw Jillian's eyes flutter all the way open, and swivel this way and that.
Eva pointed her gun at Ace. "That is the pilot. She could fly us." Her American accents faded, letting emerge inflections more at home somewhere between the Danube and Volga valleys.
Adam remained firm. "An airplane would be too visible. Wait."
Gilbert trembled, but not with fear alone. Hotly, he said, "Leave us alone! You're horrible."
Adam curled his upper lip. "Shut up, puppy. You live or die at our whim. Stay silent, and live."
Ace opened her mouth, then closed it. Her breathing deepened, and an oddly peaceful relaxation washed over her face. At Ace's feet, Jillian's eyes roved with dawning awareness. They darted to Ace, to the twins, to the black, threatening silhouettes. They widened. Jillian's mouth dropped open in horror. She drew in a long breath, expanding her rib cage.
The twins faced down the black-clad foreigners like small mother bears protecting a cub. Vivian's eyes flashed in the firelight. "Murderers! You almost killed Mom! Have you no respect for life?"
Adam swung his gun to Vivian, eyes black and unfeeling. The knuckle on his trigger finger tightened.
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Chapter 17
At that moment, many things occurred. Eva's eyes strayed to Adam, a crease of worry deepening between her eyebrows. Adam's gaze bore down on Vivian as he pointed the gun at her heart.
Something at Gilbert's core flamed hot. With insufficient time to weigh the benefits and costs, his thighs flexed, his body poised to leap between Adam and Vivian.
But electrifying frayed nerves, a scream ripped. It came from everywhere at once, as if the air itself gave voice to torment. It tore at the ears with claws of raw anguish and horror. Adam and Eva froze. Their eyes roved wildly.
To Ace, the expected scream triggered her plan. Like a carefully oiled bear trap, she snapped. With choreographed motions quicker than the eye could follow, her crowbar arced over and down. Steel met flesh and bone on Adam's forearm, and there was a loud woody crack. At the same time, Ace's booted foot swung low to high, connecting with Eva's gun arm. Eva's gun arced high into the air, spinning, disappearing into the night.
In Adam's nerveless, bouncing hand, his gun popped. The bullet travelled moonward, and the recoil sent the gun skittering to the pavement. He choked off a whimper, and dropped his valise to cradle his broken gun arm. He staggered.
Ace's next blow with the crowbar caught him across the neck, and he dropped like a sack of wet cement.
Eva backpedaled, and Ace turned on her with a feral smile. "Surrender. Fight. Run. So many options."
Gilbert landed between Vivian and Adam. Thankfully, his heroic impulse to absorb a bullet for his sister went unfulfilled.
The twins caught up with the situation. Their heads swiveled to their mother, who had sat up as she screamed. Her hands were splayed out, as if she was a puma about to claw.
"Mom?" Gilbert gasped, then added, "Go, Ace!"
Vivian brushed by her brother and pounced on the valise.
Eva chose to run.
She didn't make it even one step. Ace batted her feet out from under her with the crowbar, then dove on top of her, elbow first.
"Oo! That's gotta hurt," Gilbert said.
Vivian took the valise with her on her way to her mother.
Ace bounced to her feet. "Dirty fight, actually. My sensei would not approve. Vivian, get the papers ... oh, never mind. You're ahead of me. Nice work." The dangerous flyer twirled her crowbar, and resheathed it in her belt. She patted down Eva's insensate form, and extracted some sort of wallet from her coat. Roughly, by seizing a limp arm, Ace dragged Eva out of the oncoming traffic lane.
The truck fire burned ever brighter.
Gilbert and Vivian knelt by their mother. Arms entwined around each other, they murmured each other's names. All three faces glistened unabashed with tears.
Ace grinned upon the scene. "Aw! Got to love a happy ending."
Headlights approaching from the west added paltry illumination to the scene. A yellow 1920 Hillman Tourer rolled into the circle of orange firelight. Clem Seville's eyes stared uncomprehendingly out as he glued his face to the car's windshield.
