Chapter 3

During the summer between my senior year of High school, and starting my freshman year at Stanford, Sensei Rika invited me to meet her Sensei in Tokyo. In Aikido after 7th Dan promotions aren’t about forms or sparring but about attitude. I spent four weeks teaching classes during the day, and sitting with both Sensei’s talking about my life to date in the evenings. I left the Aikido school, E an eighth Dan, but knowing that being non Japanese I would never gain the last two ranks.

Teddy’s Dad, Sensei Tsuya that I studied Kendo with in Ayer, made arrangements for me to meet a Sensei Tomai to study further. Of course he made the arrangement four years ago but had let the Sensei know I would have to be eighteen before I could come. My final six weeks in Japan I spent living in the Kendo School. I was bruised and even bloody a couple of times, but I stuck with it.

On my last full day in the school Sensei Tomai presented me with a Dai-Katana, it looked like a walking stick with metal bands around the scabbard portion with a shark skin wrap on the hilt that when it was together just looked like a hand grip for walking. The sword maker himself told me it had taken him two years to craft in the old way. Engraved on the blade was my real name translated to Japanese Yoi no myōjō, It even came with ownership papers and a permit to carry it.

I must have looked a sight to the Japanese stewardess in my new kimono with my walking stick when I boarded the flight home. She had to have known what my sword was but didn’t say anything, she just bowed and showed me to my seat. Yes I was carrying my sword. I would have taken a boat home and been late for school if they had made me check it into luggage.

LAX was a madhouse when I arrived, and I ran into my first trouble of my trip. I ran into a customs agent working the flight from Tokyo that couldn’t read Japanese, He was throwing a fit about my sword. I had handed him my paperwork on it but of course they were in Japanese. I tried to explain what they said to him, but he just kept yelling and his face got redder and redder as he got louder and louder.

Finally I’d had enough, I took my paperwork back from him, taking my carryon bag and I stepped back from his counter. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do since now I had airport security all around me. I simply leaned on my sword and asked, “Can I speak to a customs agent that can read Japanese, please?”

One of the other agents stepped forward, “I read Japanese Miss how can I help you,” he said.

I handed him my paperwork, “As I was trying to tell the other agent these are the ownership, sword makers and carry permit papers for my sword saying I own it and can legally carry it. The only reason I took the papers back from him and stepped back was I was afraid if he got anymore upset he would have a stroke,” I said.

After looking them over the agent agreed that’s what they were and cleared me through customs. Mom and Dad were waiting for me beside baggage claim. “What took you so long?” Dad asked, as I walked up.

“An idiot customs agent working the flight from Tokyo that couldn’t read Japanese was all,” I said to him.

Mom just shook her head, “Can you ever go anywhere for the first time and stay out of trouble?” she asked, before laughing.

Dad and I laughed with her, before grabbing my bags as they came around. We took a cab from the airport to the hotel they were staying at. Mom and Dad had brought my car out for me along with a moving van full of my stuff from home. They planned to fly back after I got set up at Stanford.

We arrived in Stanford two days before I could move into my dorm room. The closest motel we could get was in San Jose. Let me tell you San Jose on a wednesday night is the very definition of a sleepy town. We arrived at 9 oclock at night and almost didn’t get any supper. We managed to find one restaurant open called Denny’s which was open 24 hours.

Mom asked me, “Why are you carrying that walking stick around everywhere, are you hurt?”

“This ‘walking stick’ is a one of a kind and can’t be replaced, making it worth more than my car. I’ll show you why when we get back to the motel,” I told her.

Mom and Dad both kept looking at my ‘stick’ all through supper, I could tell they were dying to know what made it so valuable. I just grinned at them and ate my food. After ten weeks in Japan the food tasted strange but good, it was a lot heavier a meal than I had become used to.

I showed Mom and Dad the fact my ‘stick’ was actually a sword and explained about its making. I could tell they were impressed by it. Dad cautioned me to be careful with who I let know what it was. Mom of course was worried about me having it at school. I promised them I would be careful.

Everything settled down after that, we got me moved into the dorm, finding out it was co-ed when we did. Linda was my roommate, which was awesome. Once we got everything unloaded and upstairs it was time to say goodbye. Mom cried as she hugged me hard enough to hurt my ribs, Dad just gave me a hug while slipping me some money. I had tears in my eyes myself watching them drive away.

Linda showed up right after that with her parents. It was a repeat of me moving in, though I did spend time with her mom talking about Martial Arts. Once they left Linda and I talked and got up on what we had been doing. While sorting out where stuff was going in the room.

Living in a dorm much less a co-ed one took getting used to, we moved in on Friday and had to buy books before classes Monday. Yet the party in the dorm started before dark. People were getting drunk and dancing in the halls, Linda and I just locked ourselves in our room.

Saturday we got up and hit the bookstore early, we were the only ones there. I couldn’t help wondering this was a top college; they only accepted 4% of applicants, yet the majority of our dorm had passed out and were over sleeping. Linda couldn’t understand it either.

Walking between classes the next week I noticed a man that seemed to be following me, I decided to find out for sure if he was. I walked around a corner and instead of continuing I stopped and leaned up against a wall behind an outcropping. I watched as he walked by me, he looked startled and took off quickly to the next corner.

I started following him, walking up behind him I asked, “Did you lose someone?”

He jumped turning around, “Actually, I did but she seems to have found me,” he said with a grin.

He laughed at the look on my face before handing me a card, “Call the number on the card and set up an appointment, There are people that want to hire you for a job,” he said, before walking away.

I looked at the card. It was a plain white card with a phone number the only thing on it. I stuck it in my backpack before heading to my next class. I actually forgot it was there, until a week later when I walked into my dorm room and a strange woman was sitting in my chair.

“Can I help you Ma’am?” I asked her.

“A friend of mine gave you a card last week, and you didn’t call so I decided to see if you had forgotten or had no decided not to call,” She said.

“I actually had forgotten it,” I said.

She nodded, then said, “I’m a recruiter, but you will need to come to our offices for an interview.”

She handed me another card that had an address on it. “Be there at noon Saturday and ask for Naomi,” she said, as she stood to leave.

I decided to call my Dad and ask him what he thought might be going on since I had never heard of anyone being recruited for a job in this fashion. He wasn’t sure either but told me to go to the interview, and to call him Saturday evening to check in so he would know I was safe.

Saturday arrived and I headed to my appointment, I was a little nervous to say the least. I parked in front of the address I had been given. It was a small office building without a name on it. Opening the door I could see a guard at a desk and only one door behind him.

“Hello, I’m here to see Naomi,” I said.

“One second please I’ll get her for you,” he said, before picking up the phone and telling Naomi her 12 oclock was here.

Naomi came out a few minutes later, “Susan, glad you decided to come in, follow me please,”

I decided to see what was behind the door so I followed her. Once I got through the door the most of the first floor was a big open area, and right in the center of the tile floor was a seal. Big as life it read Central Intelligence Agency, well at least now I knew who was trying to recruit me.

Naomi led me to an office on the outer edge of the first floor, Once we were seated she began, “Yes this really is the CIA, We have had our eye on you and your merry band from Ft. Benning ever since we saw all of you listed as a ranger class,” she said.

“Is the CIA trying to recruit all of us then?” I asked.

“Actually your friend Amy already works for us as an analyst, however Tom and Miguel both failed the psych profile, and your friend Linda is up in the air if we try to get her or not because of her mother being ex-Massad,” she answered.

“We even had doubts about you because you have had a few fights over the years with people in authority over you, however we have seen a more reasoned approach on your part in recent years, including our test at customs when you returned from Japan,” she said.

“With my name plus being a 6’ tall woman, I have had to develop a thicker skin, and work on other ways to get people to treat me with respect,” I said.

“You mean ways besides breaking things and people,” she said with a grin.

I nodded my head, she pulled some papers out of her inbox and handed them to me. Looking them over I could tell it would take me a few minutes to fill them out.

“I need you to fill out those, but only if you think a career in the CIA is for you,” she said holding out a pen.

It took me almost an hour to finish the paperwork. During that time she explained that I would be a probationary hire until my security clearance came through. Part of that would be staying out of trouble, and keeping my grades up. Also at the end of my freshman year I would declare the major they decided on, that last one made me pause.

“Can I double major or will I only be able to take the classes the CIA selects?” I asked her.

“What were you planning to major in for the second one?” she asked in return.