Comeback

Someone's following me.Selena's heart rate skyrocketed higher than expected, surprising her with reactions left over from months ago. Reactions that came from two intense days inside the Berzhaan capitol during which she outwitted, outran and outlived the terrorists who'd taken everyone else in the building hostage. Now that familiar tension zinged through her body -- a body she somehow kept walking at a normal pace. Outwardly oblivious, inwardly on high alert.Except this was the modest little Virginia town closest to the CIA training facility called the Farm, and if the descriptionsleepydidn't quite do it justice,bustlingwent too far. On a crisp early fall evening, headed from the family-owned pharmacy along the main street to the sports shop, Selena was in no danger from terrorists. Down the sidewalk, a teenage girl walked her dog. Across the street, a middle-aged couple shared an ice-cream cone. A man in running shorts headed down the sidewalk away from Selena; a woman in more sensible sweats jogged in place, waiting out one of the town's few signal lights. Vehicle traffic was sporadic, heavily populated with the practical rather than the luxurious.And still, someone followed her.Selena Shaw Jones didn't waste time doubting herself. Never did. Doubt hadn't gotten her out of Berzhaan alive. She'd done that on her own, using her wits and her grit... and trusting her instincts. So now, without changing her stride, she headed past the big brick structure of the sporting goods store, ducking down the alley beside it.Choke point.Anyone following her would stand out clearly if he so much as hesitated at the intersection, while the alley itself was dark enough to hide Selena from a casual glance.Except she quickly realized she could go one better. The old brick building's deeply inset windows, half a story above her, offered plenty of ledge for a woman quick and nimble. The darkened panes meant an unoccupied room and no one likely to notice her or give her away. Up she went, scraping knuckles and ignoring the stinging pain as she caught her balance, crouching with her back to the brick and her eyes on the alley entrance. Her left hand crept beneath her black leather duster to her back pocket and pulled out the knife clipped there, thumbing the short tanto blade open. A blade meant for close work, with wicked angles of hard steel.And yeah. Here they came. One at first, hesitating on the decision to enter the dark area. And then a second, meeting up with quick whispers and a few restrained gestures. One male, one female, features deliberately obscured by deep jacket hoods.Selena wiped a trembling hand along the thigh of her navy cargo pants. Tailored enough for casual chic, they nonetheless had the flexible pocket capacity she wanted. She'd become quite fond of the style since it had served her so well in Berzhaan, holding a plethora of small improvised weapons for her private guerrilla war against the Kemeni rebels. She wasn't so fond of the trembling. Not fear, that trembling. Just awareness. Readiness. A need to act.Come a little closer.And oh, they did. They tried to cover it, as the man playfully backed the woman into the darkness, nuzzling at her ear and murmuring something to make her laugh. But Selena saw the surreptitious glances, even from within their hoods. They were looking for her. They wondered if she was hidden in some dark corner or if she'd found a hidden exit. She pushed her back against the brick, waiting...Until finally they'd gone beyond her.She leaped down from the windowsill, cat-light, and covered the ground between them in a mere pounce. Just enough time to put the knife up to the side of the man's hood-covered neck before shoving him, hard, against both the woman and the wall. The woman's eyes widened; the man froze at the sharp touch of metal as it pierced his jacket through to his skin. Impulses left over from Berzhaan surged through SeleDurgin, Doranna is the author of 'Comeback ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373514168 and ISBN 0373514166.