Page 8
Story: SEAL's Justice
She blinked. “It’s my car.”
“And I’m the one trained in defensive driving.”
Her face didn’t change. I had never seen a woman more thoroughly unimpressed with me. It was…disconcerting, to say the least. She just walked around me and climbed into the front seat. “Get in, or I’m going without you,” she called. Groaning, I went to the passenger side and slid into the seat.
Nataliya quickly pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road. I had driven around St. Francisville a little before going to the diner—I knew it was a straight shot to the elementary school—but she kept making turns down residential streets and looping back on herself.
She’s making sure we aren’t being followed. I was glad to see she understood the kind of danger she was in and that she wasn’t risking getting caught. I knew without asking that’s how she’d kept hidden for over a year. She’d been smart.
It was impressive.
Finally, after a twenty-minute roundabout journey, we pulled into the drive of a squat, red brick building. I could see a chain-link fence and playground equipment swarming with kids beyond it. “Stay in the car,” she said as she pulled into one of the empty visitor’s spots. “I’ll be back.”
Nataliya rolled the windows down and took the keys with her. I didn’t like letting her go on her own, but even without kids of my own, I knew schools were kept pretty locked down these days. I doubted they’d let me in without some kind of registration process, and we just didn’t have time for that now.
Five minutes later, Nataliya came out of the school with her arm around a frail-looking boy. As they got closer, I could see they shared the same color and shape of their eyes, but that’s where the resemblance stopped.
He must look like his father.
Nataliya opened the back door and helped the boy put his book bag on the floor. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Sakharok,” Nataliya scolded. “Don’t be rude.”
The boy was cowed instantly. “Sorry, Mama.”
She ruffled his hair. “I’ll explain as we go,” she said, and some of the light dimmed in his eyes. Apparently, he realized right away that she didn’t mean “on the way home.”
She closed the door as he buckled himself in. “I’m Adrian,” I introduced myself.
The boy glanced at me. “Elijah,” he shot back.
Nataliya got behind the wheel. “You can tell him your real name, sakharok,” she said.
He looked unhappier still, like he knew exactly what this all meant. “My name is Elias,” he said, a little mechanically. “It’s nice to meet you.” His tone implied the exact opposite, but I kept my smile on. “Mama, what’s going on?”
She glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. “The bad men found us,” she said softly. “They came to my work during the lunch rush.” I was taken aback that she told him the truth. When I was a kid, no one was ever honest with me about what was going on. I assumed that was how adults always were with kids. I had to admit, I liked her approach better. Her voice was soft and she kept the facts simple and direct, but she wasn’t sugarcoating anything. “Luckily, Adrian was there to help me, so I am okay.”
“I’m an FBI agent,” I said. “I’m here to protect you both.”
Elias’s eyes widened. “Mama?”
Nataliya smiled his way. “It’s fine,” she soothed. “He’s going to keep us safe. Right, Adrian?” Her eyes cut to me, and I looked back at Elias over the seat and nodded.
“Absolutely. That’s my job.”
Elias sighed. “So, where are we going this time? The bad men coming mean we have to leave, right?”
Nataliya made a sympathetic sound in her throat. “Unfortunately, sakharok. I’m so sorry.”
The boy’s eyes grew wet, and he rubbed at his face with his thin hand. “I know, Mama,” he said. “You just want us to be safe.”
Nataliya reached into her cupholder. She had a small package of tissues and handed one back to him. “It’s all right to be sad,” she soothed. “I know you have friends here.”
Tears trickled down his cheeks. “Will we ever get to come back?”
I expected her to tell a white lie to soothe him. Instead, she said, “No, we most likely will not.”
The tears fell harder, and I saw her pretty face crack, just a little. That shouldn’t have fazed me, but it did. Once more, I wanted to promise her that everything would be okay. That I’d make it okay.
“And I’m the one trained in defensive driving.”
Her face didn’t change. I had never seen a woman more thoroughly unimpressed with me. It was…disconcerting, to say the least. She just walked around me and climbed into the front seat. “Get in, or I’m going without you,” she called. Groaning, I went to the passenger side and slid into the seat.
Nataliya quickly pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road. I had driven around St. Francisville a little before going to the diner—I knew it was a straight shot to the elementary school—but she kept making turns down residential streets and looping back on herself.
She’s making sure we aren’t being followed. I was glad to see she understood the kind of danger she was in and that she wasn’t risking getting caught. I knew without asking that’s how she’d kept hidden for over a year. She’d been smart.
It was impressive.
Finally, after a twenty-minute roundabout journey, we pulled into the drive of a squat, red brick building. I could see a chain-link fence and playground equipment swarming with kids beyond it. “Stay in the car,” she said as she pulled into one of the empty visitor’s spots. “I’ll be back.”
Nataliya rolled the windows down and took the keys with her. I didn’t like letting her go on her own, but even without kids of my own, I knew schools were kept pretty locked down these days. I doubted they’d let me in without some kind of registration process, and we just didn’t have time for that now.
Five minutes later, Nataliya came out of the school with her arm around a frail-looking boy. As they got closer, I could see they shared the same color and shape of their eyes, but that’s where the resemblance stopped.
He must look like his father.
Nataliya opened the back door and helped the boy put his book bag on the floor. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Sakharok,” Nataliya scolded. “Don’t be rude.”
The boy was cowed instantly. “Sorry, Mama.”
She ruffled his hair. “I’ll explain as we go,” she said, and some of the light dimmed in his eyes. Apparently, he realized right away that she didn’t mean “on the way home.”
She closed the door as he buckled himself in. “I’m Adrian,” I introduced myself.
The boy glanced at me. “Elijah,” he shot back.
Nataliya got behind the wheel. “You can tell him your real name, sakharok,” she said.
He looked unhappier still, like he knew exactly what this all meant. “My name is Elias,” he said, a little mechanically. “It’s nice to meet you.” His tone implied the exact opposite, but I kept my smile on. “Mama, what’s going on?”
She glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. “The bad men found us,” she said softly. “They came to my work during the lunch rush.” I was taken aback that she told him the truth. When I was a kid, no one was ever honest with me about what was going on. I assumed that was how adults always were with kids. I had to admit, I liked her approach better. Her voice was soft and she kept the facts simple and direct, but she wasn’t sugarcoating anything. “Luckily, Adrian was there to help me, so I am okay.”
“I’m an FBI agent,” I said. “I’m here to protect you both.”
Elias’s eyes widened. “Mama?”
Nataliya smiled his way. “It’s fine,” she soothed. “He’s going to keep us safe. Right, Adrian?” Her eyes cut to me, and I looked back at Elias over the seat and nodded.
“Absolutely. That’s my job.”
Elias sighed. “So, where are we going this time? The bad men coming mean we have to leave, right?”
Nataliya made a sympathetic sound in her throat. “Unfortunately, sakharok. I’m so sorry.”
The boy’s eyes grew wet, and he rubbed at his face with his thin hand. “I know, Mama,” he said. “You just want us to be safe.”
Nataliya reached into her cupholder. She had a small package of tissues and handed one back to him. “It’s all right to be sad,” she soothed. “I know you have friends here.”
Tears trickled down his cheeks. “Will we ever get to come back?”
I expected her to tell a white lie to soothe him. Instead, she said, “No, we most likely will not.”
The tears fell harder, and I saw her pretty face crack, just a little. That shouldn’t have fazed me, but it did. Once more, I wanted to promise her that everything would be okay. That I’d make it okay.
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