by Sybil Nelson
I rolled my eyes. "I know that. I was speaking reticulated...rehistorical...
"Rhetorically?" Marco offered.
"Yeah, that." Freaking smarty pants. Marco was so annoying, yet so gorgeous at the same time; it was hard to be mad at him. He had long thick dark hair, piercing green eyes and a chiseled, muscular body. I hated how much I liked him. In some ways, he was my complete opposite, a precise perfectionist who needed to have all the answers and do everything perfectly. The best way to drive him crazy was to give him a puzzle to put together and hide one of the pieces. He'd go insane looking for that last piece. Worked every time.
He probably would have been a perfect match for my best friend Tai. But from the first moment I met him I always thought we had some sort of connection, like we were destined to meet or something. But it wasn't something I was going to explore. Not when I had an awesome boyfriend like Kyle.
Kyle and Marco were so completely different. Kyle was fun and competitive just like me. Kyle could smell a good prank a mile away. All our lives while growing up in River's Bend, Pennsylvania, population 2,351, we constantly challenged each other in bike races, in video games, and just about anything we could twist into a competition. And from third grade to fifth grade we had an in depth prank war going. Our parents made us call a truce when I shaved a P in his head after he fell asleep in English class. Kyle had to wear a wig for auditions for two months.
Marco on the other hand was dark and brooding and mysterious. He didn't talk much and usually just stayed out of the way in order to observe situations. Whenever we were together, I always ended up doing all the talking.
"I'm sorry, Priscilla. I did not mean to spy. You looked so happy. I wanted to find out what made you so happy. It won't happen again, mademoiselle." That's another thing I hated. His French accent and his politeness also made it impossible for me to hate him. All of the specimens were created with a different accent. That way, when they went on missions they fit into the culture perfectly. Marco spoke seventeen languages so really he could fit in anywhere, but he was programmed with the French accent.
I rolled my eyes and went back to staring at the sky. "We're over the Persian Gulf. Landing in five."
Even though I did research all last night and all of today, I couldn't really find out too much about this guy or why Colonel Selliwood wanted him dead. I had a feeling that everything was connected and that Selliwood had some big master plan, but so far we weren't really sure about anything.
"Why don't you wait in the jet while I secure the perimeter?" I said once I'd landed the jet on a small sand island and initiated the cloaking device.
"Not a chance, Priscilla. Your mission may be to protect Sheikh Rasheed Al-Butam, but mine is to protect you. I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight." Marco stared at me with his intense eyes sending a shiver through me. We both knew why he was so determined to protect me. We both knew he was totally crushing on me. But his social skills weren't developed enough to know exactly how to hit on a girl. He'd spent most of his time in the Selliwood Institute being trained as an assassin. Even after my mom helped him escape three years ago, he'd had to go back after his adoptive parents found out about his powers. They were actually afraid of him. I could kind of understand that. He was pretty intimidating when he did his staring thing and his body started turning into metal.
"Fine, I hope you're ready for a swim." Mom, Dad, and I had studied maps and read history about this country all day and decided that the least invasive procedure was to land in the sea and swim to the shore where the eight story glass mansion of this sheikh was. They also did some calculations and let me know I had seven hours and fifteen minutes before the jet sunk due to the tide and the weight of it. That should be plenty of time. The assassination attempt was scheduled to take place in forty-five minutes. The specimens were never late.
Marco hesitated at the edge of the water after I had already jumped in. "What's the matter? Can't you swim?"
"Of course I can swim. It's just that, if my body converts to metal, I'll be too dense. I'll sink. What if I can't get back to the jet?"
"Well, we'll just have to make sure you don't convert." That was easier said than done. Sometimes he couldn't control it. Whenever he sensed danger or a direct threat, he automatically turned into metal. It was pretty cool to watch. He ended up all smooth and shiny and glittery, kind of like a talking Oscar statue, but silver instead of gold. The first time he met Kyle, they almost got into a fight and the conversion started on its own. Thankfully, Tai came to the rescue and whisked him away while only his fists had changed. Once Marco's completely converted it takes about four hours and calm conditions for him to change back.
Marco didn't seem secure in my confidence. So I said, "If something happens, I'll carry you back. I'm really strong, remember?" I smiled. Something in my smile must have convinced him because jumped in and we swam to the shore.
Probably afraid of the sinking thing, Marco swam ridiculously fast and reached the shore a full minute before I did.
Even in the pitch black of night I could see how rich these people were. Before two days ago I'd never even heard of United Arab Emirates and now I was admiring their architecture. I mean, I would have been completely jealous of this guy's huge beachfront glass house if I didn't know a psycho colonel was trying to blow his brains out.
Marco and I circled the house twice staying in the shadows careful to not alarm the armed men and guard dogs stationed in different positions. This was so different from a regular specimen assassination attempt. Oddly enough, they usually killed their marks in public places. My mom called it hiding in plain sight. Attack when everyone's watching and no one expects it. That was another reason they used children. No one expects pre-teen assassins.
As we knelt in the sand outside of the sheikh's mansion, I thought more about the other assassination attempts. I had never needed to break into someone's house before in order to save their life. Something wasn't right. I shook off my doubt drenching Marco with my wet hair in the process.
"Relax. We will be fine." He must have sensed my nervousness. Is that a word? Anyway, either that or he was in my head again.
I pulled two tranquilizer darts out of my utility belt. I couldn't bring the gun because it would've gotten submerged underwater so now I had to throw the darts at the armed men freehand. Thankfully Charlie and Chester were more than happy to help me with target practice. I enjoyed pelting them with pennies as they scrambled around our farm. They actually turned it into a game. If I could nail energetic, five-year-old moving targets, these massive, motionless guards shouldn't be a problem.
With a dart in each hand, I sailed them through the air then dove into the sand to stay out of sight. Seconds later we heard the thud of their bodies hitting the ground. I could tell Marco was impressed as he stood up to head inside. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to the ground.
"Not so fast. You're forgetting something." He stared at me confused as I pulled out two more darts. I leapt up and tossed them at the dogs. "I am in no mood to get bit tonight."
Once we made sure the guards and dogs were in sleepy land, we snuck into the house in search of the master bedroom.
As we crept through dark hallways, I tried to focus and ignore the feeling of doubt crawling around under my skin. It wasn't working. Something didn't feel right but I kept going. Maybe I was overreacting. Too many missions had made me paranoid. After this one I was taking a break. Marco could take over for a few weeks while I concentrated on my boyfriend.
When we reached the fourth floor, the exact center of the mansion and where the master suite was located, my heartbeat accelerated. I looked over at Marco. His hands were converting to metal. Then the lights flickered on. It was too late. The danger was here.
"So, Priscilla. We meet again," said the most sickening British accent. It was the voice of Specimen Xi.
Chapter 7: FashionXIsta
Seconds after I recognized Xi, I heard the deafening blast of gunfi
re and felt bullets whiz past me. Marco jumped in front of me, and then tackled me to the ground. Bullets pelted the walls and lodged in the glass of the corridor where we stood.
"No, no, no! What the devil are you doing you miserable trigger happy troll?" Xi asked once the gunfire subsided. "How many times have I told you: Don't kill the redhead? She's mine. No one gets to kill her but me!"
I peeked past Marco's solid silver shoulder and looked at who or…what she was talking to. I really didn't know what to make of him…her…it. It looked like a skinny, short Hunchback of Notre Dame except bald and with skin so white it was almost see through. It looked like a science project gone wrong that could walk and carry a gun. Marco rolled off of me and we both stared at it in awe.
"You're so stupid it's like you're missing a chromosome or something," Xi continued her rant as the creature lowered its head in embarrassment. If it had a tail it would probably be tucked between its legs. Wait, did it have a tail? I actually tried to look for one.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Specimen Zero," Xi said with remorse...or it could have been sarcasm. "You are missing several chromosomes, aren't you? You lovable little evolutionary missing link." Xi reached out and patted the creature on its head. "Now, hand over the gun. You know you can’t see well enough without your glasses. We don't want any accidents."
As soon as Xi had the gun in her hand, I sent a blast of fire to melt it. I didn't want her getting any ideas and taking aim at Marco and me. She was probably a much better shot than the creature. And considering she was completely insane, there was no telling what she was capable of.
Marco leapt to his feet and said, "You handle Xi. I'll take care of…of whatever that thing is. I'll be right back for you." Marco lunged for the creature as it yelped and ran out of the room.
Once they were gone, Xi rolled her heavily made up, yet gorgeous Asian eyes and dropped the melted mass of metal from her hands. As expected, the heat had no effect on her. Specimen Xi had no pain receptors which meant no matter how much I used my fire on her, she wouldn't feel a thing. She could also regenerate flesh so she left every battle completely unscarred and still looking like a runway model. The last time we fought was in Canada. She had orders to kill this Canadian official named Pierre Marchaud. He had apparently ordered Colonel Selliwood to stop some illegal research he was doing at the North Pole.
The only reason I beat her the last time we fought was because I burned her designer clothes off making her run out of a public museum naked and embarrassed.
I studied her knee high leather boots, her black lace and wire skirt, and her black and white striped shirt with red suspenders. With her waist length straight black hair and purple highlights, she looked like a cross between a mime and a prostitute. I wondered if the burning clothes stunt would work again.
"The burning clothes stunt won't work again," she said as if reading my mind. "It was a cheap trick anyway and you cannot score it as a victory."
"Whatever, Xi. I kicked your butt last time and you know it. You ran away screaming like a little baby."
Xi's jaw clenched and her lips tightened into a line. "No matter," she said smiling suddenly. See, that's what psychos do. One second they're so angry they could breathe fire and the next they're smiling like any second they could whistle Dixie.
"This time it won't be so easy to cheat, Priscilla," she continued. "You see this smashing ensemble?" She did a step turn with a hand on her hip like she was on a catwalk. "It is completely fire resistant."
Then she actually started talking about the designer who created it for her. I was not in the mood for this. I got to my feet and drummed my fingers on my arm while checking out our surroundings. We were in some sort of wide corridor that went around the house. On my right was a glass wall that looked out into the sea and on my left was a regular interior wall that probably led to a bedroom.
"Personally, I think I should create an entire line of fire resistant clothing. Don't you think I'd make an outstanding designer? Maybe I'll have my own magazine, too. I could call it FashionXista. You know, instead of Fashionista. Isn't that clever?"
I rolled my eyes.
"What? You don't like it?"
"Personally," I said, imitating her British accent, "I think you look like a hooker for clowns."
Xi frowned ... or smirked. I was never really sure with that girl. It was kind of hard to tell with all the makeup. "Well, it's better than what you're wearing. Seriously. Red spandex? What did you do? Rob a comic book convention?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "Well, do you at least like my hair?" She flung it over her shoulder.
"Okay, well your hair is pretty sweet. Oddly enough purple highlights work on you. My dad would never let me dye my hair."
"Oh, you don't have to dye it. A few silver hair pieces would look smashing mixed in with your shade of red. These are hair pieces here you know." She pulled her hair up to give me a clear view.
Like an idiot, I leaned in to get a better look. That's when I felt her elbow connect with my nose. I can't believe I fell for that.
Xi's laughter echoed around the room as I did a back flip away from her.
"That was so much fun," she said as she picked up a decorative wood table and launched it at me. She liked throwing things at my head. I split the table in half with a side kick. Less than a split second later I felt Xi's foot in my stomach. I doubled over in pain. She landed several blows to my face with her fists. Then she grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled with all her might. I screamed and fell to the floor then I rolled over to my back. Her foot stabbed the floor just where my head had been. I stared up at her for a second. A smile spread across her face as she twirled a large chunk of my red hair around her fingers. Blood trickled down my right cheek.
Xi leaned down and tucked my hair into a zipper pocket of her black leather boots. Why the heck was she saving my hair? While she was distracted doing that, I swept her feet out from under her. When she fell to the ground, I brought my foot down hard across her face. I probably broke her nose, but she didn't react. She didn't feel a thing. Instead, she grabbed my foot and flung me across the room. I landed with my back against the wall.
Dizzy and disorientated, I looked above my head and noticed some sort of curved ancient sword hanging on the wall. It must have been there just for decoration. I hoped it had been sharpened recently.
Xi hopped up off the ground and charged toward me. I reached up and grabbed the sword. I spun around and swung the sword, slicing off her left hand in one smooth stroke.
Only a single drop of blood dripped to the floor as her skin immediately began to grow and heal over the cut and form a nub.
"Oh, bugger. It's going to take me a week to grow that hand back."
I knew she could regenerate her flesh and didn't feel pain, but still, the sight of her skin growing right before my eyes distracted me so much that I didn't see the roundhouse kick aimed for my head coming.
The sword flew out of my hand. I landed on my back. I tried to leap up, but Xi's high heeled boot pinned me down at the neck. Her foot pressed against my throat. The more I struggled to breathe the more her smile grew. This was exactly how she liked it. She loved to watch other people in pain. Just when I had started to see spots a cell phone rang.
"One moment. I'll be right back with you," she said using her good hand to pull a purple phone out of her boot. She released a little of the pressure off my neck, but still held me in place. "Xi speaking." She spoke so casually like she was just getting her nails done instead of grinding the life out of someone with the heel of her boot. "Oh me? I'm just on holiday at Sheikh Rasheed's house in UAE…of course I'm being a good girl…Priscilla? Priscilla who?...oh, yes, I remember her…no idea where she could be… hmm …on the Saudi radar you say…that's curious…yes, Dr. Witherall…yes, sir…Do I have to meet you at Crang? It's so bloody cold up there…Yes, sir...fine...I'll see you there." She snapped her phone shut and rolled her eyes. "Now where were we?"
Just then a streak of silve
r sliced through the air and tackled her. Marco and Xi rolled around on the ground. Her punches and kicks did nothing against his solid form. I sat up rubbing my sore neck and spitting up blood.
Xi wriggled free from Marco and did a back flip away from him. "That's it. I'm tired of this," she said pulling out a small black object from her other boot. I had to give the girl credit, she knew how to accessorize. Those were some very functional boots.
The object looked like a mini Ion Distorter. It caused excruciating amounts of pain to anyone with the specific genetic mutation caused by the Selliwood institute. It would put any of us out of commission for several minutes. But wouldn't it also put her in pain as well…wait a minute…she had no pain receptors. Great.
Thankfully, Marco was thinking more quickly than I was. As the Ion Distorter powered up in Xi's working hand, he picked the sword up off the ground and tossed it at Xi, slicing off the hand.
"Tea and crumpets!" Xi yelled staring at her two ineffective nubs. She closed her eyes and took a deep calming and cleansing breath. Then she opened her eyes, smiled and said, "It's just a flesh wound. I'm still going to kill you." She looked left and right then yelled, "Zero! Get in here!"
