Chapter 1

This was getting less than funny now. I was headed home on the 25 Express and there she was, again. This was the first day I had ever noticed her. Not, in itself really unusual to see a pretty girl except this had been the fourth time today I had seen her, the same girl.

Now I'm like any other man. When you see a pretty girl wearing a short, revealing dress, no matter what her age, you look and take notice. It is something just built in to us. In this case, she was not just pretty; she was beautiful, gorgeous even. The fact that she also looked like a teen or pre-teen also was something to consider though.

I had been living and working in the city several years now. I had recently taken a rather nice flat mid-town and started using the tube to go to and from work, but today was the very first time I saw or had noticed her.

My initial thought was 'what was she doing here; she should be in school, shouldn't she?'

That thought seemed to take many different forms and repeat itself many times over the next six weeks. We never spoke, she never said a word to me, nor I to her. She would just sit in her seat, usually facing me, or often, at the restaurant table nearby at lunch. Her legs dangling front to back. Her short dress moving in rhythm as if following some unheard beat.

I remember very distinctly that Friday. I was headed home and there she was again. I don't quite know why I did it but tonight I looked at her full on and nodded to her in some sort of courteous recognition. By the Fates, she nodded back and smiled at me as I rose to exit at my stop. The following week started and I did not see her. She was not anywhere I had ever seen her before. Was I looking for her now? Damn straight I was. If you asked me why I don't believe I could say why. It was nothing sexual, I don't think. My God, she seemed like just a kid. Yet there was something about her, something that would not let me ignore the desire to see her again. Truth be known, seeing her again had become a much-anticipated event, the highlight of my day.

My life had pretty much become a routine. A routine in which I had very few friends and not much of a social following either. It was again a Friday night and my mystery friend, for that is what she had become, was still not evident. I stopped down the street to the plaza mall, more like a festive carnival this evening. There seemed to be so much going on I had to ask a passerby what, exactly was going on.

"It's 'Cinco de Mayo', a Spanish celebration held on May 5," he said. The date is observed to commemorate the Mexican army's victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.

To me, it would seem strange to celebrate a battle, but then again, perhaps a victory was not a usual outcome for the Mexicans. I also remembered the recent trip I made to Texas and saw what remained of the Alamo Mission in San Antonio, a huge defeat. Maybe such a situation did warrant commemorating after all.

I was getting hungry. There were dozens of vendors on the mall selling myriads of foods and snacks. Several of the better places along the sides as well as inside were already full. Did I say I was getting hungry? That was an understatement. The smell of so many different foods hung in the air. I was ravenous and even the sugar coated waffles became attractive. I saw a couple people from work. They said they were off to get a steak. My mind was now focused on a thick, juicy, luscious steak.

It wasn't a long walk up Wall from Water Street but I swear, by the time I had gotten to the restaurant my mouth was watering and I was ready to order the entire cow, plus seconds even. Rather than go into the main dining room I elected to stay in the bar area. Julie was there and she already knew what I wanted, I did not even have to order. "One rare Rib Eye" she yelled out. Julie sure knew me pretty well. I even ordered the French fried onions, which were almost a meal in themselves. When I asked her for another plate and fork, her face lit up. Yep, one could already see her mouth water when they were served up.

Man Oh man was that meal ever good. Too much food though. I did nit need the onions but were they something else. Having Julie run up, scoop some up, and roll her eyes as they went down was like eating them myself. Her offer for pie with my seven coffees went un answered.

Saying my adieu, I bid Julie goodnight and started home. It was not real late but it was after 9:00 pm; it was a Friday night though so the streets were not vacant. The Metro stop, underground, was a short distance away, it was not long before the homeless and 'bag' people would be out. In this part of town, serious crime was no longer a problem. The subway, at worst, was a haven for muggers but when it was still light out, then the threat was minimal here.

I was just tuning on Wall to go to the Metro stop when I saw her rummaging through a trash drop. There was something about her. She reached down some and pulled out a nearly empty doughnut box, probably from the Duane Reed up the street.

I was just turning away when she held out the open box to me in an obvious offer to share her meager meal with me. My heart melted faster than an ice cube in the desert. With tears in my eyes I took the hand she held the box in, tucked it under my arm and said to her that we both seemed to be hungry and to please come with me, that I would not hurt her. I am not sure she understood me but with her other hand, traced the tears rolling down my cheek and said something I did not understand. We went right back to the restaurant, the bar again and took a table in Julie's section. When she came up to the table she gave a little look but did not miss a beat.

"What can I get you and your young daughter Sir?"

Yeah, right, the lady must have been 100 years old, or just had a pretty hard life. I pointed to my companion and asked Julie to just start with some small portions of light things.

By the second item, a salad, Julie was sitting down with us and chatting with the old lady. A little later, she was getting up. She had tears in her eyes. Julie looked at me.

"What!" I said.

"You have no idea what you did, do you?"

"Sure I Do. What did I do?"

"Why did you bring her here?"

"She was hungry. She offered to share something she found with me. How could I not, anyone would, share what I had with her too. Why? Did I do something wrong?"

I should have seen that something did not make sense when the old lady was having the first dish. She ate the soup more like she was dining at a 5-star than like a starving street person would. When I looked closer while she was eating her small salad, I heard. "It really needs some lemon and pepper on it, but for a place like this it is very good."

'What the Hell!' I thought.

Before I could say more she said. "We go now, see how this really should be served."

At the same day, but not at the same time.

It was a day much like any other. I take that back. What was different about today was my tour was over and I would be a civilian this time tomorrow. I guess that made today special. At least to me it was.

I had spent either four or six years doing all those things, I had been told to do; now, I would be free. They had tried very hard to get me to re-up, very hard indeed. It was not something that I neither enjoyed nor wanted to do any more though. I should explain a bit. Those first two years I was sent by a judge to serve until I was eighteen and they were not totally fun, but they were better than the alternatives. The last four were not bad but boring. Everyone kept saying, 'Just wait until your twenty-three, then we can do something with you!'

'Yeah' I thought. When Pigs fly maybe. I never waited that long, after my four years my 'real' hitch was up I wanted to start over on my own. Most of those last four years were very good for keeping me in shape and the Embassy duty got me to some neat places. I must admit though, that judge did me a huge favour. I even sent him a note thanking him and offered to write to any other 'prospects' before they choose an 'option'.

I had no real family, no wife or significant other and was not certain where I would re-locate. They had sent me to Southern California for my last month or so, it was easy duty and I had the option to use R & R time or light duty and make a few extra bucks. I wanted the money; you never know when you may need it. As I said, no one I knew would care for me when I got out, I did not expect anything nor would I be too upset about it, it was just what things were.

I took my last walk out to the main gate, escorted this time and started towards the line of cabs. I began to think my new life was going to start on a sour note when two large men walked up and blocked my way to the cabs, now I knew things were going to shit.

"Mr. James Peters!" the one on the left, my left, said to me.

"Please, if you would come with us, where we go, Mr. and Mrs. Campo wish you to come to properly thank you for saving their daughter, Maria Therese.

That rang a bell. I had been on Embassy duty in Sao Paulo, Brasil (Brazil to American minds) when my walk in the park, this time the Zoo there turned a bit nasty. Two dead, three wounded and I just knew I would, at best, be buried in paperwork for several years, if they let me leave the country even.

There was a lot of kidnap, rape and child prostitution going on then. Even the 'Police Death Squads' were thought to sell or kill tons of kids they picked up off the street. I remembered the girl now. The look on her face had said it all. The death and destruction all around her did not seem to even faze her. She ran to me when I shot the two goons starting to take her away. Thinking back, her actions would make many troopers proud. While she ran to me, when I told her to drop, she stopped, dropping to the ground, right at my feet. The three men racing to grab her fell with body, then headshots. I was wounded too, blood all over and the little girl started to now cry, hugging me and getting blood all over her torn dress.

I remember also several cars pulling up to where we were. The first were some LEOs and from the look on their faces they were not very pleased to see a bunch of bodies on the ground and an obvious Yankee holding (actually being held) by a young Brasilian girl. The last two cars were different. The girl recognized those in them as they rushed to her. She started babbling a stream of Portuguese and Spanish so fast it seemed incomprehensible to me; but they got the message. The bad guys were on the ground and she was holding the good guy; me.

That was all they needed to hear. The one guy, Paulo I later learned, got up and held up both hands to the now three Police cars, said something and they meekly just went away. Three more cars came up, men got out and Paulo said something to them.

What exactly was said and what was going on I wanted to find out. Paulo had me taken back to the Embassy where I got patched up. Never did find out more details except that the Ambassador came into my room that day and congratulated me on saving the life of that little girl. Her dad or somebody called and must have made a lot more of the story than really took place. After that, my time seemed to consist of 'Disneyland' assignments. Things that normally the 'old timers' drew, but I was not complaining.

Five months, two weeks, three days, seventeen hours (Zulu), twelve minutes and seventeen seconds after I was cleared to work again, it was finally over. It had been a mixed ride those last few years. One lasting impression was that, in this assignment, you were 'expendable'. Not a feeling, which would instill confidence and trust in anyone with an IQ in three digits. I could see why the KGB (Now FSB) and The GRU used the 'Bulgar's' for 'wet work', they did not ask many questions.

Being met by these two made me think of all the things in the past. Until they mentioned the little girl, about them it was a 'fight or flee' type conversation I was having with myself. It was easier to accept them when both grinned widely and one extended his hand.

"You were not the easiest person to find. Mr. and Mrs. Campo are not the kind of people to forget what you did either. Maria Therese Campo, the young lady you saved, would not let any of us let this go by, either. It is not everyday she has this happen to her. Her 'supposed' bodyguards were severely punished, you might say. Nevertheless, if something would have happened... ? Oh well, we all love and respect the family and even now, everyone responsible are still being hunted down. But enough of this talk. You Sir, are an honoured guest and if you come with us we will take you to them. We were told to say, 'the sun is shining' and you would know we are friends, No?"

"Yes. I guess you surprised me a bit. I have nothing to keep me here right now, so I guess we go, Si?"

"Si! A plane is waiting. We are instructed to help with anything you need to do here. The family will meet the plane in Rio. Everything regarding your return also has been arranged. There have been, what do you call them, special arrangements for your visit. Not too many people would wish to deny Mr. Campo any favours."

When we arrived at the airport and I saw the G-IV, I sort of realized the 'family' was a might better off than most. To take an international flight, sans papers, inspections, etc. only a few organisations (organizations) could pull that off. Mr. Campo undoubtedly was using one of those, or paid a pretty high 'fee' to one for this flight. As we got closer, I could see the very small, 'Air America' logo near the bottom of the nose. Yep, I understood better the 'special' treatment. The 'boys' wanted something so 'helping out' Mr. Campo was worth a small favour done for him. The pretty FA that waited for me at the bottom of the stairway greeted me by saying.

"I don't know who you are but I received very definite 'orders' from someone named Maria Therese to be certain the flight was kept 'very' professional. She also contacted my husband, who is a pilot for the Company and he is flying us today; in itself, that was no simple matter. I don't know who she is but she certainly has a lot a people jumping through hoops for you. Just who the Hell are you?"

"If I told you I'd have to 'kill' you!"

"Right, I get that a lot on these flights. Welcome aboard and If I never see you again... !"

I should have paid better attention to detail regarding Maria Therese. She could not have been very old, could she?

The flight to Rio was long and uninteresting until the final thirty minutes or so. The Air Force there provided an escort. When my two 'friends' told me we would land in Rio, they never indicated it would be at a Military base, complete with guards and escort. Getting off the plane and down the stairs was almost a challenge but not as much as trying to stay standing when the 100 lb, human cannon ball hit me. Octopus might have been a better description, since when we hit the ground; she was on top and was squeezing what little breath I had left out of me. By using my keen and highly developed powers of observation, I deduced that my new appendage was Maria Therese Campo. Either that or there was a brand new greeting in Rio that would become very popular with the tourists. When the hugs turned into kisses, licks and things I might think well left to bedroom antics, I just put my arms around her and held on. Her only words, in a mix of Spanish and Portuguese seemed to translate into, 'He followed me here Papa, and can I keep him?'

I forced myself to open my eyes and saw three people standing by, by watching us and shaking their heads. "Are you certain, Sweetheart, until you train them, they may pee on the floor?"

You could also just barely make out some negative comments from the woman in the group. Like family across the world, if Mama does not approve of something, it will be a struggle to get much farther. From the clinging vine hanging on me it became a very easy decision that Maria Therese was a 'pearl of great price' and I did not want to loose her. In the past I had attended a school which taught something called 'situational analysis' which included awareness of what was happening around you and decision making appropriate to it. It did not take very long for me to make a response.

"From your greeting, I take it you are Maria Therese; I just do not remember you being so beautiful. I thought your Father and Mother wanted to meet me but I see you are attended by your brothers and younger sister. Will you introduce me?"