“It’s sort of like Superman or Wonder Woman, right? They have to hide who they really are.”
She laughed. “We’re not from Krypton, we’re just kids who are lucky we can do some special things. But we’ll always have to be careful, Tash.”
“Don’t you get lonely? I mean, you can do really special things but you can’t talk about it, can’t even tell your friends.”
“Sometimes. But I have my parents, and they’re always telling me that if something bothers me, I can tell them. And for now, you have me to do the same for you. How about we practice again right now?” She grabbed her backpack and turned her back to him. “Tell me what I’m holding in my hand.”
Tash scrunched up his eyes and concentrated. “The potato chip bag.”
“You saw me pick that up, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Tell me what I’m thinking about.”
Tash didn’t say anything for the longest time. “I don’t know, Autumn. I can’t see it.”
Autumn leaned back against the willow tree and eyed him. “Then let me show you.”
A moment later, Tash nearly burst, he was so excited. “You’re thinking of a name—Felicity. I heard the name, Autumn, I heard it!”
“That’s exactly right, Tash. Felicity is the name I suggested to Dillon for their baby. I wonder what we’ll be able to do tomorrow, or next week? Let’s go for a swim and have some fun.” Autumn jumped to her feet and quickly stripped to her swimsuit, but she didn’t beat Tash. She raced after him toward the Sweet Onion River.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hurley Janklov’s Training Camp
Claxson, rural Maryland
Hurley walked over to stand in front of the group of eight trainees who’d arrived the day after Elizabeth left. There was instant silence. “Listen up, people, this is Elizabeth Palmer, who trained for three months here with me and is now the meanest Brit on the planet. Elizabeth, come take a look at this new bunch of rookies, tell them what I expect from them.”
Elizabeth had no idea Hurley was going to put her on the spot. What to say to these people? Elizabeth walked over to stand with him in front of the five men and three women, all dressed in comfortable dark gray joggers and black sweatshirts withHJ Survival Trainingstenciled in big letters across their chests. They’d come, as she had, to become fit and strong and learn the skills to help them survive in a dangerous confrontation. Most of them, she knew from Hurley, had already been assigned by their international corporations to work in places where being attacked on the street was a real possibility. Their course would last three weeks, a combination of classroom and grueling physical training, including shooting, defensive driving, and much more. Most of them were in their thirties and forties, and all looked already reasonably fit. They were staring at her, the tall blond in tight black jeans, tucked-in white shirt, andblack low-heeled boots standing next to Hurley, wondering, she imagined, exactly who and what she was.
She cleared her throat, smiled. “I learned soon enough to do exactly what Hurley told me to do the second he told me to do it, or I’d be down on a mat doing twenty push-ups.” She paused. “At the beginning, I could only do one. I was calling myself all sorts of names, Hurley didn’t have to. Now I can do thirty, no sweat. Let me say all of you look to be in better shape than I was when I arrived here. I promise you if you work hard you’ll have the confidence and the instincts to face just about any situation without freezing up. And that’s the real survival key I learned here: never panic, don’t stop to weigh and assess and second-guess yourself—act quickly, go all in.
“Your companies made a wise decision to send you here. You’ll think Hurley’s a dictator and you’ll want to kill him before you make it through, but then you’ll thank your stars when it’s over because you’ll realize Hurley’s the best. What he’s teaching you might save your life, if it ever comes to that.
“Some days you’ll want to quit or just lie down and die, and others, you’ll be sure you can take down aliens. It doesn’t matter to Hurley how much you struggle, how many times you can’t do something; he’ll never stop expecting you to work until you drop, which you will do many times. I remember leaving him at the end of the day for my love-hate sessions with the ice baths, then with James, the sports-massage therapist who’ll work your bodies back into shape so you can go do it all over the next day.” She paused, looked at the group, saw alarm, excitement, and many questions. She said, smiling, “There is a big payoff—one evening a week, you’ll get to go into Claxson for pizza at Angelo’s.” She shot a mad grin at Hurley. “Trust me on this: when you survive Hurley, you’ll know to your heels you can survive most anything, even your spouses. By the way, Hurley didn’t pay me to say that. I paid him—a bundle.”
Elizabeth gave Hurley a bow and stepped back to standbeside Rome. She heard low voices from the small group but couldn’t make out what they said.
She whispered, “I hope I didn’t scare them off.”
He whispered back, “You gave them a goal, to learn to survive, to win, and that’s what it’s all about.”
They remained to watch Hurley put the group through their morning exercises, wincing occasionally at the groans and curses. Elizabeth said, “I never told you about Angelique. She’s French and gorgeous and Hurley’s wife. She doesn’t take grief from him, goes toe-to-toe, and you should see Hurley with their three little boys—I swear they could wear him out. They’re a great family. Since I was here for three months and obviously didn’t know anyone, I spent evenings with them. Angelique was endlessly kind to me, even taught me how to fishbone-braid my hair. She always praised my progress even when I looked so pathetic and exhausted one of the kids could have pushed me over.” She paused. “The boys, they always came and hugged me before they went to bed.”
Rome looked at her thick braid. “This is a fishbone?”
“It is. Not bad, right?”
He studied the intricate braid. “Nope, it isn’t bad at all.”
“On my last evening, Angelique cooked an amazing farewell dinner for me, and I asked Hurley whether I should stay here in the States or go home or move to Timbuktu. He told me only I would be able to answer that when I’d been here in the States awhile—on the outside—and seen what would happen. He told me to trust myself and I’d make the right decision.”
Then Elizabeth gave Rome a fat smile, and a red light flashed in his mind. “Today ought to be fun too. Maybe you and Hurley can get in the ring together.”
He merely arched a brow at her. Rome looked out over the large multipurpose space—a meeting area, state-of-the-art gym, and boxing ring, surrounded by a small indoor track. He’d seen the beginning of Hurley’s extraordinary security when Elizabethhad told him to turn off the small country road and they came to a gate. He’d seen cameras turn toward them and focus. And the gate cameras were only the beginning. There were alarms and more cameras throughout the compound. The compound itself wasn’t that huge; it didn’t have to be because Hurley kept attendance down to eight people at most. But it had everything from a gun range and steam and massage rooms to dorms and a dining room with its own chef whipping up endless calories. Hurley’s own home, all glass and wood, was set on a small rise. Rome had seen two gardeners working to keep the grounds immaculate. Elizabeth had told him Hurley started building the house when he was only twenty-two and added on every year, refining it and adding new outbuildings.
