Twelve years later…

  Megalodon City, Tundra, standard year 375 after founding

  It was the end of Samantha’s second week back on Tundra. Back home. Her boss, Robert Nagar, had given her two weeks before her next mission. The big one. On her next mission to Saraya, Samantha, was going to kill the president. As usual, Sam spent every moment she could with Jim, trying to fit a lifetime of memories into the brief interludes they were both together between missions. It was easier now. Jim rarely left the planet. And in spite of a punishing schedule, he made time. He took her out to concerts, took her strolling through the beautiful green indoor farms that were being built all across the planet, fed her all the fresh food she wanted. All the things they could never have as children, were easily within their reach. Sam closed her eyes, trying to memorize the feel of his strong hands as they wound around her waist, pulling her close as they sat looking over a sprawling grove of fruit trees. She breathed in the scent of cherry blossoms. Tundra and her people, were growing up. They were becoming more self sufficient, more secure in their independence and ability to survive. It made her heart beat with pride, to see everything they had accomplished.

  Later that day, she went to the rally, an anonymous spectator in the crowd, watching Jim give the speech that would launch his presidential campaign. The Dragon City memorial towered over all of them, the names of three and a half million people carved into stone, going on and on. Sam had never seen them, but she knew that somewhere on that monument were her parent’s names, the names of her brothers. She lifted her head up towards the sun. The mild summer weather was perfect for the outdoor rally, and the size of the crowd was staggering. The imagery of Vice Admiral Jim Hawk, a Dragon City orphan rising to the ultimate height of power, was symbolic and effective. When the time came, Sam cheered along with everyone else, feeling the roar of the crowd in her chest, feeding off their energy.

  It was hard sometimes, not to get swept up in the magic of it. The cult of personality that was Jim Hawk. When the speech was over, for all the times they had been together, she felt nervous. As if she were about to see a new person. Sneaking off to their agreed upon meeting place, she flew into his arms. “The speech was amazing!” Sam said, hugging him as tight as she could. “You, were amazing.”

  Jim didn’t say anything, but his hands tightened around her, pulling her in so tight she could barely breathe. He was quiet in the car, his hands wrapped around her reassuringly as they drove back to his apartment, the new one with massive windows providing a near panoramic view of the city below.

  “You’re quiet.” Sam said, getting up from her seat impatiently, until she was sitting in his lap. “Why are you quiet? I don’t like it.”

  “I wanted to talk at home.” Jim said, kissing the top of her head.

  Sam frowned, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically nervous and uncertain. What was it that Jim had to say, that he didn’t want to say to her in the car? She kissed his neck, somewhat hesitantly, smiling in smug relief when his response was exactly what she had hoped, and then some.

  The car had been stopped for a while, by the time they got out. Straightening out her clothes one more time, Samantha shook out her long blond hair and walked with far greater confidence towards the new apartment.

  “I don’t want you to go.” Jim said the moment they walked in, getting to the point immediately. “I’m going to win the race. You know I will. Trust me to win, Sam. And then you don’t have to go. I swear to you that you don’t have to go. I will take care of it. I will get you out of your secret service contract. I have enough influence now, to make that happen. Don’t go.”

  Sam took a step back, shock written all over her face. “But… but I signed the contract.”

  “So what? I’ll get you out of it. You don’t have to go. I’ll prove it to you tonight, if you want. Just say the words. I’ll get you out.”

  “I don’t…” Sam frowned. “I don’t need anyone to get me out. If I didn’t want to do what I do, I wouldn’t. I volunteered.”

  “Don’t volunteer this time.” Jim grabbed her hands, pulling her closer. “Stay with me.”

  “Jim.” Samantha frowned. “I have to. You know that.”

  “Why? Why do you have to, Sam?”

  “I’m bringing backup.” Sam offered, trying to reassure him. “I know that was you. I know you insisted. Robert listened. He put his foot down and insisted I bring backup. I’ve never done that before.”

  “Robert, did not listen.” Jim said flatly, referring to Samantha’s boss and the likely future head of the Tundran Secret Service. Their friend. His friend. His friend, who did not listen. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let him get anywhere near a leadership position again if Sam dies, he thought stubbornly. He had given Robert fair warning. He may not have enough influence yet, but he would. Robert, had made his choice.

  “It was my condition for joining the secret service.” Sam reminded him. “It was what Robert promised.”

  “Fuck their promises.” Jim said. “Fuck their promises and fuck this stupid, idiotic obsession you call a mission. The man is ancient. Likely dying soon anyway. You killed every member of his cabinet. Every single one. They know you are coming. I am the best military strategist on this planet and I’m telling you it’s not worth it. Don’t go. Please Sam, don’t go.”

  “I just… I need him to die. I need him to die at my hands. My whole family is dead, because of him. Everyone I knew, everyone I cared about. Because of a choice that he made. To attack Tundra. To destroy Dragon City. He did that, Jim. He gave the order. I’ve been dreaming about killing him since I was seven years old. I need this.”

  “I’ll make sure they pay, Sam. You know I will. Let me to this. It doesn’t have to be you. It doesn’t always have to be you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You need vengeance for the sake of vengeance. It is petty.” Jim said brutally, frustrated and refusing to back down. This was not the time to give up. If there was the slightest chance he could win, he would keep trying. Sam’s life depended on it.

  “I should go.” Samantha said, backing away.

  “It’s me or the mission.” Jim said, laying it all on the line. It was her life. “Don’t go. I’ll give you anything else that you ask. But don’t go.”

  ---

  Jim stared out the window of his empty apartment. He wanted to say more. To drag her back kicking and screaming and lock her up until Saraya’s President Thornhill was long dead in his grave. But he didn’t have the power to make that happen. Not yet. Had he run for president one term sooner, had he held more power, more influence, he could have stopped this. Forbidden her from going. But he failed. She was going. And saying the wrong thing to Sam tonight, could mean she would hesitate. Could mean she would fight with anything less than her last breath, to come home alive. Because she was going. Robert had decided it and Jim knew his limitations. Not even Jim Hawk, was able to outmaneuver Robert Nagar. There was nothing he could do to stop this. He stared out the window for one long, drawn out moment before reaching towards his wrist comm. “I’ll be waiting.” He texted.

  ---

  One year later, Phoenix City, Saraya, standard year 376 after founding

  She had missed him. Sam put her head down into her hands and stifled a scream of frustration. One year on Saraya, one whole year. One year working as a nurse in that godforsaken hospital. One year dealing with the demands of the most entitled of Saraya’s rich and famous. One year maintaining her fake identity as a qualified nurse. One year away from Jim. And she missed President William Thornhill’s appointment with his oncologist because she had been home asleep. Her plan had been so simple. President Thornhill, was old. All she had to do was work at the hospital known for treating all the top politicians in Phoenix City and sooner or later, the man would come to her. All she had to do, was be patient. All she had to do, was wait.

  And the plan had worked. President Thornhill came…and she missed him. All because she had to sleep. She had done all the right things. Listened in on all the gossip. Cultivated all the right relationships. But the security around President Thornhill’s visit had been too tight, and her contacts weren’t good enough. She had no way to know when the appointments were scheduled. All she could do was wait, and hope she got it right. Next time. If there was a next time. Because she couldn’t get to him. There was just no way to get to that goddamn bastard. This time, she did scream. “He’s not waiting.” Sam admitted out loud. “Not this time.”

  “You mean Jim?” Her highly qualified backup looked up from his spot sprawled out in a chair under the window in their one room apartment.

  “No.” She snapped. “I meant my other long lost love. I have dozens to choose from. The world is brimming with goddamn options.” Her backup was currently going by Dirk, a name Samantha found nearly as obnoxious as the man himself. In the privacy of their secured quarters, she just called him Backup. They were sharing a room. It was safer that way. After a year of cohabitation, she hated Backup with the fire of a thousand Sarayan suns. Sam wasn’t a roommate person. And if it weren’t for her promise to Jim, she would have killed Backup long ago and left his body to the Sarayan roaches.

  Backup shrugged.

  “What? You got something to say?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “What?” Sam snapped.

  “I’d tell you Sam but I gotta say, sometimes I worry you’re planning to kill me.”

  “I can plan all I want. Long as I don’t do it.”

  “You need to be patient.” Backup said.

  “That’s what Jim always said.”

  “Jim was…”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Don’t you dare say it.”

  “Do I need to?”

  “He’s going to leave me.”

  “You’re not together.” Backup pointed out.

  “He said he would wait.” Sam said. She had taken out that text and stared at it thousands of times. “He said he would wait.” She repeated out loud, as if saying it would make it real.

  “All right then.”

  “My identity is secret. It’s not like I can go do dates and do photo ops. I’m doing long term undercover missions. We’re not officially dating, but… what?” She snapped, seeing the look on Backup’s face.

  “You do you, Sam.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because while you and Jim are clearly not together, the man does seem fond of you. And I don’t want to go home and tell the president of our planet you’re dead. We both know he’s ahead in the polls. This isn’t about Jim. You never had Jim. And you can’t control what he does. This is about you, being patient. We’re here to do the job. Do the job, Sam. Do it well.”

  “We do the job.” Sam echoed. She would do the job. She had given up so much already. What was one more month? Or two, or five, more months? Or her life? They were on Saraya to kill a president. To make history. They came to do the job. They would do the job.

  ---

  Three months later

  The day dawned bright and hot, as most days on Saraya did. Samantha woke up rested. It had been tempting to rush, to cut down on her sleep to maximize her chances of catching President Thornhill when he came for his next visit, if he ever did. But she didn’t. She forced herself to sleep. 7 hours, every night. Right on schedule. She would sleep. She would wait. She would do the job. She stared at herself in the mirror. Put on the makeup the Sarayan politicians liked and the nurse’s uniform she needed to get into the highly secured VIP wing of Phoenix General Hospital. She befriended the oncologist who had treated President Thornhill. Over time, she became his main nurse. She changed her shifts to match more closely with his. She talked to the man who had gotten her the fake nursing credentials, stroking his ego and reminding him how very grateful she was for this opportunity, every day. If he came clean about her credentials being fake, her chances of mission success went to zero. Her chances of survival, would also be diminished. She could die for nothing. Empty. So she brought him coffee. Let him take her out to dinner over what little free time she had. Listened to his inane stories about his wife, his children, his mistress, and their lazy, thieving maid. She listened and she smiled. She kept going. And the next day, she did it all again. And again.

  The day dawned bright and hot. Sam rolled out of bed, nodding to Backup silently, and went to put on her makeup and nurse’s uniform. She let Backup drive. He drove her to work every morning. And then he waited in the lot for the duration of her sixteen hour shift, in case she really did need backup. At least, she assumed he did. He had to go to the bathroom and eat sometime. She never asked. She never cared. She didn’t need backup. It was just something she agreed to, to keep Jim happy. She walked past the security checkpoint to enter the hospital, and then walked through the far more serious checkpoint that led to the VIP wing known for treating the wealthiest, most influential people on the planet. She had no weapons. There was no chance of bringing them past the checkpoint.

  There was a certain tension in the air, the guards speaking more softly than usual, their searches especially thorough. Sam held up her hands, permitting the physical search in addition to the electronic scan. Random physical searches happened, but they were unusual.

  “Scan your pass again.” One of the guards said.

  “Sure Charlie.” Sam smiled. She had learned all their names long ago, carefully memorizing each one. And if that fucker who gave her the fake credentials and ID betrayed her and she survived, Sam promised herself silently, she may not be able to get to President Thornhill, but she would make damn sure she got the bastard who screwed her.

  The guard relaxed slightly. “Sorry about this.” He said with a tense smile, finally waving her through. “Big day today. You may want to get this renewed, I think the strip is wearing off.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks again.” Sam smiled. People found her smile pleasant, trustworthy. People, were incredibly stupid.

  Sam walked on, smiling cheerfully at the oncologist whose patronage she had cultivated so carefully. “Feels like a big day today.” She said.

  He smiled back at her, clearly relieved. “You’re early Sam. Have I mentioned recently how fortunate I am to have you as my nurse?”

  “Not recently enough.” Sam said, allowing her smile to reach all the way up to her eyes.

  He’s nervous, Sam realized with some curiosity. It was a difficult job sometimes, giving the wealthiest, most powerful people on the planet the bad news.

  “It is a big day for us.” The doctor continued, barely aware of her reply. “Stay close today, will you Sam? I may need your special…bedside manner.”

  “Of course, doctor.” Sam smiled brightly. “Give me just one moment and then I’m all yours.” She stepped out, heading in the direction of the bathroom. Glancing back casually to make sure the doctor was no longer watching, she walked on to her locker, reaching in to take out a sock. Her socks weren’t rolled up in a ball, they were laid out neatly at the bottom of the locker. Taking another surreptitious look in both directions, Sam reached into one of the socks and took out a surgical scalpel, the only weapon she managed to get her hands on inside the VIP wing of the hospital. She slipped the scalpel into one of the pockets of her nurse’s uniform. Today may be the day. She texted Backup before turning around smoothly and walking back towards the oncologist’s office.

  The day dragged on, interminable. She usually had lunch with the guy who got her the fake credentials, but he was nowhere to be found. No matter, Sam thought, diligently forcing herself to finish her sandwich.

  “Oh you’re done. Good. Please come with me.” The oncologist’s nervous voice startled her, coming from directly behind her.

  “Of course, doctor.” Sam said, outwardly as calm as ever as she got up from her table.

  “It’s him.” The doctor whispered into her ear as they walked back down the hallway towards his office. “Sam, it’s him.”

  “It’s who?” Sam asked.

  “The president. He’s here. He’ll be in my office in just a few minutes. It’s an incredible honor.” He added dutifully.

  “And for me, as well.” Sam said with a small smile.

  They walked on, until the doctor’s office loomed in front of them. Sam blinked in surprise. In front of the office, stood a single guard. How was that possible? The president always had at least two guards. Of course, the VIP wing of the hospital was already under top security. And the matter was likely private in nature. But just one guard?

  “He may want his privacy.” The doctor whispered. “But please wait outside in case you’re needed.”

  “Of course.” Sam agreed.

  “This is my nurse.” The oncologist said, speaking louder. “I’ve asked her to wait outside until she’s needed. I understand this is a private matter.”

  The guard nodded, looking bored.

  Sam smiled up at the guard. “I thought there were usually two of you.” She tried.

  The guard just looked at her. This was secret service. They didn’t chat.

  “Are you not allowed to talk?” Sam asked, stepping closer, and opening her unusual gray eyes as wide as they would go.

  The guard looked at her silently, but his eyes warmed slightly.

  “I appreciate the professionalism.” Sam said, with complete honesty. And then she slashed his throat. The blood drenched her, as she knew it would. There was no other way. She grabbed the gun from the guard’s silent, dead hand as he fell, but even as she pulled on the trigger, she knew it was futile. Sarayan secret service agents had fingerprint locks on their guns. Dropping the useless weapon, Sam walked back into the oncologist’s office. Both men stared at her blood drenched form in frozen shock. She took out President Thornhill first, ignoring the barrel of his gun as he brought it to bear, too slow. Bad training, Sam thought as she felt the scalpel slice into his flesh. His blood drenched her, mixing with the blood of the guard and turning her white uniform, quite literally, blood red.

  “Sam.” The doctor gaped at her, frozen shock written across his face.

  “I’m sorry.” Sam said. She couldn’t leave him to sound the alarm. A few seconds may yet save her life. She wasn’t dead. Not yet. Jim said he would wait. And every second mattered. She sliced the doctor’s throat next, turning in one smooth motion to run towards the door, only to find her path blocked by the second guard. The president’s secret service, were the best of the best. The shot raced towards her, slicing her straight down the middle, the pain unlike anything she had ever felt. But she was already moving forward, and the laser round, pain, and scent of burning flesh failed to slow down her momentum. She went down, trying to get under the guard’s line of fire, slicing the femoral artery in his thigh as she fell. When the blood drenched her, she barely noticed. She sliced again, hitting the other side. Her precision was unmatched, even with blood in her eyes. The guard fell and she forced herself to get back up, her feet slipping slightly in the blood.

  Sam walked back out of the room and looked into the eyes of a nurse on the far end of the hallway. The other nurse screamed, the sound echoing oddly in her head. Exits. Sam thought vaguely. She had scouted the exits, knowing she may not be able to walk back out past the security checkpoints. There was a way. It would likely kill her, but there was a way. And Jim, was waiting. Leaning one blood soaked hand against the wall to steady herself, Sam kept moving.

  The VIP wing of Phoenix General Hospital was secured, with all entrances heavily guarded. Generally, the entrances and the exits were one and the same. Fourth floor and above, there was one exception. The garbage disposals were unsecured past the third floor. No one was coming in via a four plus story tall vertical chute, and few people were small enough to fit. Sam was small. Whether she was small enough, she had hoped to never find out. But there was no time like the present. The world was starting to dim around the edges now, and a part of her knew it was the loss of blood. Forcing herself to focus as her blood slicked hands scrambled to open the chute, she finally managed to get the door open. Sam stared blankly at the chute that was a good three feet up off the floor. When she had scouted this exit, she imagined an agile jump, feet first. She had a better chance of flying out the window towards the space port on the other side of the city. She could hear the shouts now, coming closer. Jim was waiting. She had to try. Putting her hands over her head, she half jumped half fell into the chute.

  Fortunately, the chute was too small for her to gain much speed, but it did slice off the flesh on her shoulders as she went down. Acting completely on instinct, Sam tried to extend her legs to slow down her descent, her shoes scraping against the slime covered walls of the chute. Just before her head hit the trash below and she passed out, she wondered if Backup really did spend sixteen hours a day sitting out in the parking lot, watching every exit.

  ---

  Sam sincerely wished she could say she remembered nothing about the next several hours. And it was mostly true. But the brief flashes of consciousness and agonizing pain were memorable. She remembered the flashes of bright Sarayan sun shining through the thick leafy canopy over her head, the brief glimpse of Sarayan insects feeding on her blood as it fell down onto the soil, the agony of every step Backup took jarring her bleeding body and broken bones. And then, fortunately, she remembered nothing at all.

  The next time she woke up, she was numb from the neck down. Sam opened her eyes onto the dim, faintly familiar interior of a ship’s medbay. “Where?” She asked, unsurprised to find Backup sitting by her side.

  Backup looked up from his tablet. He appeared to be reading a book. “Still in Sarayan space.” He said, looking back at her with apparent amusement. “But they’re not looking that hard yet. Haven’t realized we’re off planet. Our chances are good.”

  “You carried me.” Sam said.

  “Antigrav technology shows up on scanners. And the entire planet was looking for you. We needed to get off the grid.”

  Samantha thought about the distance they had to travel, through the Sarayan jungle, to get to their scheduled pickup location. She swallowed.

  “Don’t look so surprised. Jim’s orders were to get you, and I quote, ‘the best damn backup on the planet.’”

  Sam was quiet for a very long time, as she thought about whether she would have died in that Sarayan dumpster, or lived long enough to see a Sarayan interrogation facility. “Thank you.” She finally said.

  “That hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “More or less than getting shot?”

  “Definitely more.”

  Backup nodded, smiling. “You did it, Sam.” He said, relenting slightly. “You killed a president. You made history.”

  “We.” Sam admitted. “We did it.”

  “It’s done.” Backup shrugged.

  “Is your name really Dirk?”

  “It really is.”

  “That’s a terrible name.”

  “Is it?”

  “It’s one letter away from Jerk.” Sam pointed out.

  “Two letters.” Dirk corrected her. “It’s Dirk with an i.”

  They sat side by side for a while, in relatively companionable silence. “You happy?” Dirk asked, looking back up from his book. “Now that it’s done?”

  Sam stared up at the darkened ceiling over her head. “I don’t know.” She admitted. “I just feel empty. Jim said it was petty. That the president would have died anyway.” She turned her head towards Dirk. “Do you think that’s true?” She asked.

  “No.” Dirk said flatly. “He needed to die for what he did. For all future leaders to remember. There are consequences. I hope he’s remembered for a good, long time. You did good, Sam. You did what needed to be done.” He hesitated. “Doc wants to talk to you.” He added, with some reluctance.

  “About what?”

  Dirk shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “That’s for the doc to say.”