All of my worst nightmares flashed through my mind. I had brought danger to Brock’s family. I went running toward the door, but Brock stopped me. The desire to make certain his mom was safe was overwhelming.

“Jessica, stop panicking.”

“Stop panicking? Your mom is outside, and shots are being fired!”

“I know.”

I pushed Brock aside and strode toward the door. Before I could open it, Brock grabbed my arm and spun me around.

“Jessica, it’s fine. Those shots are my mom’s. She is probably practicing, hoping that the bad guys will show up so she can shoot them.”

Suzy looked like the gentlest lady. I had to see with my own eyes that she was okay. I ducked out of Brock’s arms and headed for the back door. It creaked under the pressure of my hand as I opened it.

Suzy was standing on the patio, looking over the lawn toward the barn, holding a shotgun. A man, probably a hired hand, had set up a line of targets along the fence and was walking back to where she was standing. Suzy aimed the shotgun and took out each target with precision.

“Mom taught Phoebe and me how to shoot.” Brock was standing behind me, grinning.

Knowing Suzy was okay, I headed back to the house to enjoy another delicious cookie. Brock followed.

“Tell me what is going on.”

“Ice texted me this morning about the chatter. I didn’t know how bad matters were, so I called Mom to see if we could come visit. We’re staying for the night and heading back tomorrow.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make on your own. I’m glad we came to see your mom, but coming here also put her in danger. What happens if these men come after me here? I understand your mom is prepared for World War III. That doesn’t mean I want your family to get hurt because of me.”

“Maybe it’s time we talk about what happened.” Brock reached over, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up. “Let’s head out to the lake.”

Brock didn’t give me time to disagree or put up a fight. He took charge, and we left for the lake.

The lake was only a ten-minute walk from Brock’s mom’s house. It was stunning. On the opposite side of the lake, mountains reached into the sky. The temperature was perfect for a late fall afternoon. While I was gazing at the beautiful landscape, Brock laid down a blanket.

When he had everything set, he pulled me into his arms. The warmth of Brock’s chest made all the torments dull for a moment. I shifted so my head was lying on Brock’s chest. This was a conversation I couldn’t have while eye to eye with Brock. “I don’t know why we need to talk about this. You read my case file. I don’t like talking about it, and I really don’t think you need to hear it.”

I heard Brock sigh. “This conversation has been on the back burner for too long. There could be things you remember now that you didn’t when you gave your report.”

I closed my eyes and drifted back to ten years ago. “It was summer, and I had gone back to Shialia to visit Dad. Patty was working on an invention, so she decided not to go back with me. There are these beautiful gardens on the palace property. I would go out to the gardens and sit for hours reading books. Somehow, the terrorist group had gotten to one of the workers inside the palace. That employee had brought me a cup of hot chocolate. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. The staff always brought food out to the gardens for me because I would spend hours out there.”

“I know back then you said you couldn’t remember anything about that employee, but do you remember anything now?”

“It’s going to take everything in me to get this story out. Can we save all the questions for the end? It might possibly trigger things.” I felt Brock nod behind me, so I continued. “After I’d taken some drinks of the hot chocolate, I wasn’t feeling well. I lay down on the grass to rest. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a cement cell.

“The cell was completely bare. I could hear guards speaking in a language I didn’t recognize. That’s when I knew I was no longer at Shialia. The first day I was there, they left me alone, besides bringing me some stale bread to eat. What I heard from Dad later was that, on the first day, they asked for the ransom. When he refused to pay, the torture started. Someone would come and drag me from my cell…”

It was getting hard to talk about my experiences. I hadn’t even got to the torture yet, and tears were already running down my face. Talking about it brought back the copper smell of blood from the previous people they tortured, and the body odor of the leader who hadn’t showered in days.

“Jessica, it’s fine. Take your time,” Brock whispered.

For the next hour, I explained to Brock how the men tortured me. They would take turns whipping my body until I would pass out. Then I would be dragged back to my cell and given a couple days to heal before the whole process would happen over and over again.

They kept trying to ask me questions, and when I didn’t know the answers, they would continue to beat me. I was in so much pain at the time that, later, I couldn’t remember what questions they asked.

We spotted a black SUV heading down the gravel road near Brock’s house.

“Brock, who could that be?”

Brock rose to his feet. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good. I need you stay here. I’ll go check it out.” Brock grabbed the glock out of his waistband.

The need to protect Brock’s mom overwhelmed me. “I am not staying here by myself, waiting to find out if something happens.”

“I don’t have time to argue about this, Jessica. Stay.” Brock took off at a dead run toward the house.

* * *

Brock

I needed to get back to the house and assist Mom. I had the feeling she would try to protect herself and the farmhands. Hopefully, the noise of the cars coming down the road gave her fair warning. Praying that Jessica listened to what I said, I took off at a dead run toward the house.

Once I got close, I hunched down and shuffled around the side of the house. When I reached the kitchen, I peered through the windows. Mom was sitting on a chair at the dining room table. A short, chubby guy with long, greasy hair had a gun pointed at her. He didn’t look like any of the photos I had pulled on Jessica’s previous case. This man looked like a hired thug. From the fire in Mom’s eyes, she was livid.

I could hear the man talking inside. He had a South American accent and was demanding to know where Jessica and I were. Mom kept playing dumb as if she hadn’t seen us. When the man pulled back and hit her, I couldn’t wait any longer. I broke through the door. Another man reacted and trained his gun at me while the first man reached down and pulled Mom in front of him like a shield.

“Give us the girl, and nobody will get hurt,” the man with his gun trained on me said. He had long, straggly brown hair and a scar down the right side of his face.

There was no way I was going to tell them Jessica was near. I noticed a flash to the side of the window. Jessica had not listened and had followed me back to the house. I needed to get this under control before they saw her.

I shifted my gun from the man who had his trained on me to the man holding Mom. But I couldn’t get a good shot. He was cowering behind her. “Why don’t you face me like a man instead of being a coward, hiding behind an elderly woman?”

The evil glare Mom gave me would have sent some men running for cover. 

He was about to respond when a squeak came from the living room. The men looked at each other questioningly, and I knew immediately that it had to be Jessica. Before they could move toward the door, Jessica walked through it with Mom’s shotgun in her hand.

The man holding Mom backed into a corner so she was still in front of him. “I told you to stay at the lake!”

“I read a report on the Bureau of Justice’s website a couple weeks ago that said seven percent of all home burglaries experience some form of violence. I couldn’t sit back and let something happen to your mom.” Jessica shifted her gun to point at the man closest to her. “Looks like the statistics were right in this case.”

I really didn’t need her to point out the obvious. We had to figure out a way to get out of this mess. Jessica had her gun trained on the man not holding Mom. Maybe if I could get the guy talking, he would make a move, and I could get a shot.

“You’re not going to make it out of this alive,” I told him. “We outnumbered you, and I called the police. They will be here soon.”

The man holding Mom pointed his gun at Jessica. “If she comes with us, nobody will get hurt. We’re here for the bounty on her head. That’s all.”

Mom went limp in her captor’s arms, causing him to lose his grip on her. She reached for her hip, and a moment later, I heard the sound of a gun. Understanding what my mom had just done, I pulled the trigger and dropped the other guy.

“Now I have blood all over the floor. I wish, when people showed up like this, they would let me know ahead of time so I could put down a tarp.”

Jessica was still holding the gun, shaking. I walked over to her and took the gun from her hands. I pulled her into my arms, and she started to weep. “I almost got your mom killed.”

Before I had time to respond, my mom replied, “Oh, dear, don’t worry about me. It’s been a few years since someone has tried to kill me. It really gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it?” Mom turned back to the body she was dragging out of the kitchen door.

“Did your mom say people have tried to kill her before? Why? She’s so sweet.”

On the outside, my mom looked like the sweetest person, like a little old lady you wanted to wrap up in a hug. “Mom worked for MI6 before I was born. She was one of their top assassins. Every so often, someone tries to take her out.”

“I’ll have the farm hands dispose of the body. Brock, go grab the cleaning supplies.”

We spent the rest of the night cleaning and listening to Mom’s stories from her time in MI6. We decided we’d head home in the morning. We needed to stop these men from hurting anyone else.