You reach a point in your life embracing you have something magical and powerful. It's a matter of how you use that energy without sacrificing a huge part of you, neglecting those you love and staying true to your existence. My duty as a daughter, a wife and a mother to embrace my strengths and give it all I have. When you experience the loss of a loved one, the grieving destroys you as your life is a living hell. You mourn forever especially if it's your child or your parent's, as that part of you dies with them as well. I have lost me and watching everyone around me losing a fight in a world of deceit and corruption influenced by the gluttony powers that don't belong as part of this reality.
I can make a difference, yet I chose to be a wife and a mother. I have no regrets. A beautiful daughter Katya and a beautiful granddaughter Celina. I have stayed true to the women in me. The void in my heart is one I owe to myself, and I owe it to Katya and my granddaughter Celina, and grandchildren in future. I watch the life of so many I love destroyed by the antics of terror and greed, the masterminds who are no more than spoilt children with their toys. It is time to continue what God taught me to do. I belong to humanity and the smiles of the future.
I will be away for a while and will not be in touch. I refuse to step aside and watch the war of tedious politics. Vladimir, I know you will understand and support my choices in search of what I have been born to do. I learned from your courage as you left your mother and father in hope to save others' too. I love you my darling. You, Katya and Celina, are my world and the reason I need to fight so I can save disillusioned freedom and continue to be the person only I have the power to be.
x Alina Sokolov x.
Vladimir smiled. A chill was lurking down his spine; he wasn't surprised by Alina's words. Deep down he was content understanding her reasons and emotions behind the letter. He was missing her already in his heart, mourning the death of his wife and in his soul celebrating the angel Alina was.
Reaching out for his coat leaving his hot cup of coffee Vladimir headed out their apartment door and stepped into the world smiling.
"Watch out world Alina is coming to get you!" Vladimir smirked as he left for work.
Vladimir and Alina lived in an apartment block in Central Park, New York. They bought the apartment after their daughter's birth raising and educating Katya until she was old enough to buy a place of her own. Katya was inspired to follow in Alina's footsteps in Nuclear medicine but like Alina was sanctioned to a life manipulated to believe as freedom.
Soon after her graduation Katya fell in love and married Anton completing a PhD in Nuclear Medicine Research. Anton was a very successful lawyer whose family had migrated to America from USSR immediately after World War I. The birth of their daughter Celina triggered Katya to continue her mother's legacy as Vladimir, Alina, Katya united knowledge, the power of thinking, love and their voice to create an angel in tomorrow's world.
Celina's genius skills planted and shaped before she was born. The voices from her teacher's outside the womb, during her nine months, stay taught her the power of a secret only Celina would understand one day. Katya gave birth to Celina.
Almost a year later, Alina disappeared.
PART FOUR
London
CHAPTER 7
S
anya was staring at the confidential documents, studying every detail and making sure she didn't miss a single word. She was tired and drained after staying up all night researching and hacking the worldwide web for information she desperately needed. A pile of half-sipped cups of coffee littered the table, and several chocolate bar wrappers had been dispensed erratically to float around on the floor. She’d attempted to stay awake through the random consumption of sugar at all hours of the night.
***
Sanya was Chantele's best friend. Chantele met Sanya during her high-school years in Belgium, where they stayed on to do their tertiary studies. Chantele trusted Sanya unconditionally after Sanya once saved her life. She’d inadvertently intercepted information that threatened Chantele’s safety. Sanya risked everything she’d worked hard for over the years to keep Chantele's secret identity hidden from the ghosts of Chantele's past. Chantele was shocked at Sanya's level of loyalty, her ability to protect and shield Chantele from the world of espionage which Sanya welcomed. Chantele confided to Sanya about everything, and they worked well together, their unity as soul-sisters creating a secret life for them. Sanya became Chantele's virtual bodyguard, personal assistant, and confidante. It was a relationship lasting more than twenty-five years.
Katya's contribution to Nuclear Medicine meant red tape for everything she did, a puppet for the conglomerates of the western countries. Her life became more of a living hell than one committed to science. Under the watchful eyes of the CIA, MI6, and the KGB, Katya and her mother Alina were assigned as chief interests making their existence almost impossible for Katya, Anton, and Chantele.
The family was forced to escape overnight to Belgium with the help of trusted sources Vladimir Sokolov organized. The family established a new life and new identities living there until Katya's brutal murder.
Chantele's family migrated from America to Belgium when Chantele was thirteen-years-old. Her high-school years were spent re-adjusting to a new life and proved challenging for Chantele. Katya and Anton enrolled Chantele in an American grammar school for western students. It allowed Chantele modicum of stability, a form of continuity from her life in New York.
***
Locked away in her self-made boot camp, Sanya searched the dark web. She jumped at the ringing sound of her mobile phone. No one used landlines in the 21st Century, Android and Apple devices were the primary communications bringing the world to everyone’s fingertips in an instant.
“We have her. She is still unconscious,” a deep voice announced from the other end.
Uneasy, but relieved Chantele was safe, Sanya let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Is she okay? I need her alive. I hope you haven't hurt her in any way.”
“Yes, she’s fine,” replied the male, careful not to upset Sanya.
“Great! Make sure Chantel has everything she needs. Call me the minute she wakes up,” Sanya demanded.
Sanya knew she had to act fast. Vincent was sure to be looking for Chantele and the minutes were ticking by all too quickly. There was precious little time to lose if she was to achieve her masterplan. She knew she needed rest to help realign her concentration on the mission. All Sanya could think about was the urgency she felt, the driving need for everything to happen precisely as planned. Sanya had to be careful, and she couldn't let anyone find out the danger they would all face if she didn't play her cards just right. Sanya looked at her watch; it was time to move forward to the next stage. She jumped into the shower, just missing a notification popping up on her computer screen, ‘You’ve Got Mail.’
The pressure was growing, and she wasn't any closer to completing her goal. Sanya finished her quick shower and got ready to head out. She wanted to visit her mother, Nadya, at the Hospice. Nadya was dying from Leukemia. Sanya adored her mother, the only person left in her life. She never met her birth father and her mother never talked about him, even when Sanya asked. In fact, Nadya refused to talk about him at all, instantly shutting her down and changing the subject the instant the topic swayed in his direction. Sanya felt as if part of her was missing. She had no idea who her father was. She had tried to find him without her mother's knowledge once, but quickly hit a number of brick walls.
***
Nadya was a petite woman and a single mother to Sanya. She migrated to London from Belgium with her daughter during Sanya's late teenage years. She was born in Russia and when her parents were killed during World War II. Nadya was left an orphan in a children's refuge. A young couple from Belgium who couldn’t have children of their own adopted Nadya and took her to Brussels. Her new parents provided a warm, loving environment for Nadya where she grew up to complete a degree in Education. She lat
er became a teacher of mathematics at the American Grammar High School in Brussels. Nadya gained the respect of students and parents alike, within the community.
Sanya graduated from Brussels with Honors and a Degree in Information Technology. Britain’s MI6 wanted her on their team, offering the opportunity of a lifetime. One she couldn't refuse. The position allowed Sanya and her mother to move to London.
Sanya and Chantele's friendship became even tighter when they both moved to London. There they continued their education at Oxford University. Chantele moved to London immediately after her mother's death. A scholar and curious by nature, Chantele enrolled at Oxford University to specialize in Modern Media. She ultimately graduated with a Bachelor of Journalism Degree.
Sanya's hacking skills and wealth of knowledge about the 'dark web,' proven through monitoring and cracking down on criminal activity and terrorism in Brussels, led Sanya to discover the truth about her best friend's false identity and her troubled past. Sanya stayed loyal to Chantele, protecting her from the intelligence agencies desperately seeking to find her best friend.
After Katya's murder in Belgium, Sanya decided to catch the killers, and in doing so, stumbled onto information about Chantele's past that shocked even her. Chantele's past re-surfaced the day Katya was murdered, forcing Chantele and her father to separate. With no other options they adopted new identities, and once again shook off the agents under strict orders to find them. Anton moved to Amsterdam where he has lived since the death of his wife, and Chantele began her new life in Britain.
The death of her mother made Chantele determined to fight against the growing deception and corruption perpetrated by the business powers and political rulers of the world. Her job as a journalist gave her the perfect platform to raise the lid on the superpowers who manipulated the economy and political warfare.
***
Vladimir Sokolov managed to keep in touch with his granddaughter, Chantele, while she was living in London. His death came eight years after Katya’s, and Chantele was the sole heir to his immeasurable fortune. With his dying words, Vladimir warned Chantele of the dangers a law-abiding citizen in this world faced. He died with a promise that he would avenge the political powers even after his death through the legacy passed on to his granddaughter. He asked her to continue the journey he’d started in Russia on the condition she finished what he started.
Vladimir's wife Alina never returned home after the letter she’d left him in 1977, a year after Chantele was born. No one ever saw or heard from Alina again. She simply vanished without a trace. Vladimir always believed Alina to be alive. He felt her, staying true to the mission was more important than family. It was about the discovery of a cure for Leukemia and other forms of cancer. He knew Alina worked endless hours and was on the verge of saving millions of people. Vladimir also knew his wife would never return. Even so, he still loved Alina and never got over her.
***
“Hello,” Sanya answered her phone.
“Chantele wants to speak to you,” the male voice had a hint of nervousness.
“Put her on,” Sanya replied.
“Sanya!” A distraught Chantele gasped. “What are you doing? Let me go right now. My children need me. Vincent needs me. You can't keep me locked up in here forever,” Chantele demanded.
Sanya paused, tears forming a trickle down her face. She knew what she was doing wasn't fair to Chantele or her family, but she had no choice. Chantele was the ticket to saving her mother's life. She had to keep Chantele from her family, at least until she fulfilled the agreement with the mystery man in exchange for a cure.
“I have no choice Chantele,” Sanya ended the call without waiting for a response. She couldn't face the sound of fear Chantele must have felt, the pain and agony echoed in her voice. Her friend was worried and concerned about her family.
Sanya opened the door of the hospice where her mother Nadya rested, shattering internally like a broken mirror, with worry at the sight of a frail woman whose health deteriorated more by day. She was losing her mother. Nadya’s time was limited. Sanya swallowed her tears, still mortified at the prospects of losing her mother.
CHAPTER 8
V
incent thought about the time he met his wife. They attended a mutual friend's birthday party in Paris, over twenty years ago. He could still smell the fragrance she was wearing and hear her voice, laughing and talking about the world, life, and the future. Vincent missed Chantele. He was craving her smile and wanting to hold her in his arms. He couldn't imagine living without Chantele for a second, let alone the rest of his life.
Vincent kept mulling over the contents of the letter he found in Chantele's sanctuary during his attempt to kill the insects taking over the Mancini mansion. Deep in thought Vincent almost missed the red light, quickly slamming on the breaks of his Mercedes Benz 4WD and narrowly avoiding a collision with the car in front of him.
“Where are you Chantele?” Vincent growled in desperation punching the leather steering wheel, bruising the palm of his hand. He couldn't bear to think she may not be alive.
Earlier that day Vincent dropped the three kids off at his closest friend’s cottage in the countryside. He then organized a schedule for his friends to look after the children while he searched for his wife.
Vincent headed to the restaurant where he and Chantele had recently celebrated her latest Journalism Award. Chantele was one of the best journalists in the world, and her love of her job was her driving force behind her success. She was a talented writer and an even better investigator. Lina, Chantele's boss, called her Detective Chantele.
It was raining, and there was a chill in the air, not unusual weather for spring in this part of the world. Close to the English Channel and the North Sea, England was no stranger to cold air and tides that carried the wind. It was the beginning of Spring, and the Jacaranda trees were blooming, their vibrancy coloring the dull city and hinting at an exquisite elegance of magic over England.
Just before entering the foyer Vincent paused, still uncertain how this place was going to lead him to his missing wife. He took a deep breath and prayed there would be answers soon.
“Do you have a reservation, sir?” The blonde waitress smiled at Vincent.
“Yes. Yes, I do. It's under the name Mancini,” Vincent responded nervously, recognizing the woman. He wondered if she was the same one who waited on Chantele and him on their recent visit. She looked different, slimmer than he remembered. Her hair was even a different shade of brown.
The waitress moved swiftly through the restaurant, leading Vincent to a table next to the window. The woman pulled out his chair, placed a napkin across his thighs, and announced the Chef's Specials before handing Vincent a menu. Finally, after taking Vincent's drink order, she smiled and moved on, attending to another patron.
Looking around the restaurant, Vincent noticed how busy it seemed for a Tuesday night. Diners surrounded almost every table, many of them couples all cuddled up and smiling happily. Vincent remembered the night he surprised Chantele at this restaurant; one of his colleagues at the Research Lab had recommended it. Chantele deserved a night of elegance and good food. She worked very hard to maintain their family unit, and he wanted to reward his beautiful wife for being the fantastic mother to their three children. It was Vincent's job to make his wife happy. Vincent made Chantele a customized pen with a built-in Wi-Fi microphone specially designed by the Robotics Lab he worked at. He gave it to Chantele the night he brought her to this restaurant, celebrating her award.
It didn't take long for the waitress to return with Vincent's drink order. Vincent requested a French Cognac, showing his excellent taste in liqueur. Wine and spirits were his specialties. He also didn't mind the odd pint of beer from time to time too.
Carefully, the brown-haired woman poured the expensive beverage in a crystal glass and passed it to Vincent. “What would you like tonight Mr. Mancini?”
“The last time I was here w
ith my wife, we had a dish I can't seem to find on the menu?” Vincent lied. It was his way to find out if the waitress remembered him.
The woman smiled, “If I remember correctly, you had the Wagyu Steak and your wife the Salmon dish.”
Vincent relaxed, happy he was right. It was her. Her hair was a different color, and she’d lost weight, but he managed to recognize the woman Chantele mentioned in the journal. Vincent's heart started to race.
“Chantele loves her seafood. She is one of our favorite customers, Mr. Mancini. I see she isn't with you tonight?” Continued the woman.
Vincent's mouth dropped, he had no idea his wife visited the restaurant on other occasions. Chantele never told Vincent she had been here before. “Oh! I had no idea my wife came here often.”
“Oh yes, Chantele is a regular here. We are all fans of hers and regularly read her articles. She tends to visit us if she is doing a story in the neighborhood. I'm Julie by the way.” She politely introduced herself to Vincent, barely masking her excitement.
Vincent was relieved. He relaxed, satisfied Julie's explanation made complete sense. “Julie, please call me Vince,” he smiled. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Mr. Manci … I mean Vince. Ask anything you like,” Julie chirped.
“Do you always work here? I mean when Chantele dines at this restaurant?” He wanted to know.
“Yes, Chantele asks for me and only dines here if I am working. I give her a little extra VIP service, and she tips me generously. I have a two-year-old son and am a struggling single mother,” Julie sighed. “Although, she also has a special spot for Cassie. Another waitress at this restaurant.”
“Is this Cassie working tonight? I mean, I would like to thank her personally for looking after Chantele.” Vincent took out his wallet and slipped a Fifty Pound note on Julie's drink tray.
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