11-year-old Jean McStone ran towards an abandoned house, careful to stay in the shadows. This was her first mission for her agency, SPI- Superior Protective Intelligence. She’d trained since she was eight and now she’d gotten her first mission; listen in on a man named Dr. Übel who’d been involved in some suspicious activities.
Jean reached the house and pulled her hood further over her face before starting to move around the house, looking for an inconspicuous form of entering. She spotted a broken window close to the ground and climbed through. Now Jean was inside, but the glass had cut her sleeve and her skin.
Hoping that her dripping blood wouldn’t matter, she walked softly up the basement steps and out of the kitchen, just in time. Footsteps moved from the entryway into the kitchen. “…going to send an agent after me, but I think they must have lost my location because I haven’t seen anyone.”
Jean froze as she heard the voice coming from the kitchen. “So you think we’re safe?” a deeper voice questioned. “Perfectly.” Jean turned and slowly began to inch towards the partly open door she just came from. “So, you met my forging assistant the other day?” The deeper voice continued. Jean guessed a nod was the reply.
“You thought him capable?”
“So you’ll work with me?”
By now, Jean was behind the door and was able to peek through the partly open hinge. The man with the deeper voice had a big bushy mustache and unibrow. The second man was blonde, tall and matched the pictures Jean had seen of Dr. Übel.
The two continued haggling and Jean began searching for ways of escape. The basement was no longer an option because it opened into the kitchen. She could go out the main door but they could see that…
Jean was still considering her options when the talking stopped and she heard Übel say: “Shh!” Jean stopped moving, hoping that they didn’t see her blood on the floor if it had dripped off her arm. She didn’t hear anything coming from inside the room and she didn’t dare look in. At first, she thought they had left, but that was before a knife slipped through the hinge and jabbed into her leg.
She let out a scream of pain and dropped to the ground, holding her wound. Someone stepped out of the door and Jean curled into a ball, hiding her face. “So they did send an agent!” the voice held some surprise. Dr. Übel yanked off Jean’s hood and pulled her to her feet, then laughed. “A little girl? Your agency underestimates me, dear!”
He grabbed her bleeding arm and pulled her into the kitchen. “What should we do with her?” he asked the other man, who furrowed his unibrow. “Throw her in the cellar. Even if she gets out of there, she can’t run. We’ll kill her when we’re done talking.” Übel nodded, pulled open the cellar and shoved Jean down the steps.
Jean lay in a bleeding heap at the bottom of the stairs and began to pray. “Please, Lord. Give me the strength to escape and make it to the rendezvous point. Amen.”
Strength and peace filled Jean’s body and she stood to her feet, barely feeling her injuries. She ran over to the broken window and climbed out easily, not getting any more cuts.
She began to run, but the men spotted her from the kitchen window. “Hey! She got out! Shoot!” Jean heard a few gunshots fired behind her and ducked, but continued running. The shots continued, but Jean was now out of range and almost to the meeting place.
Finally, Jean saw the arranged alley and ran down it, almost running into her trainer. “You made it!” He exclaimed. Jean nodded, her pain and weakness from blood loss suddenly coming back to her. Her knees gave out under her and her trainer caught her just before she hit the ground. Jean didn’t remember anything after that, but somehow, she ended up in the hospital wing in the agency, reserved for wounded agents.
As she opened her eyes, she saw a doctor hovering over her. “They tell me…” he began, “…that you ran an eighth of a mile to the rendezvous point with those injuries. Is that true?” Jean nodded weakly. “How?” the doctor asked. “A miracle.” Jean whispered, and then she drifted back off to sleep.
The rest of Jean’s story:
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