She heard the whip of helicopter blades approaching. With that small sliver of hope, she waved her arms hysterically over her head. Her spirits soared as she saw it now overhead. She scampered to the corner of the roof. The rapid whipping of the blades beat furiously at her, but she didn't care one bit. She was saved. The blades slowly decreased until they stilled. The pilot opened the door. She ran to it as though he might change his mind and fly off.

She scampered on and immediately shut the door. The pilot motioned for her to sit with his dark brown hand.

"Oh, thank you for landing," she breathed, strapping herself in the next minute. "I hope I'm no inconvenience to you, but I just have no idea what I'd have done if you—"

"Wow! And I thought I needed to apologize for being late!"

Chris stared at the pilot in disbelief. She had gone through all that panic and worry on that roof just because of some tardy mediocre pilot—his constant reference to a printed page on his lap spelled that. She no longer felt safe or even thankful with this guy. She'd expected the CIA to have orderly people not someone like him. The sight of a diamond tattoo on his neck did nothing to put her at ease at that moment. What a contrast from D. Smith! He had been late. What if it had been a life-threatening situation? She felt anger rising in her chest, but she chose to hold her tongue.

"What?" He shrugged all though he knew full well why she suddenly looked the opposite of a sweet little lady.

"Nothing," she said curtly. She could just imagine the smug look under that helmet.

"Come on, you started off so sweet but now you givin' me looks that could kill."

Chris turned to look at the scenery of the mountain below with its carpet of evergreen forest at its base. It was better not to respond. She would probably say something she'd regret with how she felt at that moment.

"You don't like me, do you?"

She glanced at him once without answering yes.

"Why, 'cause I'm black?"

Her eyes flashed, stunned. "No!" she replied almost instantly. "Not at all!" That's what he'd thought? She felt sick for seeming to have portrayed such a thing. This would ruin her Christian testimony if he wasn't and he knew she was. She needed him to believe her. "I promise it's not that at all, in fact it's just because—"

"I got tats?"

"That was not what I was going to say," she insisted—though she'd lost confidence in him for seeing one. "In fact I was going to say it was because—"

"I suck as a pilot and I was late to pick you up?"

Chris was about to object—but she realized he was correct. Her face flushed in embarrassment.

"Nah, don't sweat," he chuckled. "I mean, who can do better than what I'm doing now if it's their first time?" He noticed the look that appeared on her face. "Don't look so shocked. In this place, get ready to do the things that weren't even on yo bucket list," he said almost sardonically.

"So I'm guessing you're new in this CIA thing, right?" Chris asked feeling unsafe at all, but strangely almost at ease with the guy.

"Yeah, hijacked from my apartment last night. That Smith woman's something ain't she—but not exactly in a good way."

Chris felt silence was the best thing in this situation.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, he said, "Well, Miss Hopper, I'm going to ask you to unbuckle and get ready to get down."

What in the world is he asking? she thought to herself. She gazed at the scene below in amazement. She hardly noticed that he called her by name. "Why should I unbuckle while you land? And why land in the forest?"

She could only imagine his eye-roll. "Girl, you don't got all day!" The craft was now stationary in the air. "Get out of that seat and strap on the parachute behind it."

Parachute?

The mere word chilled her to the core. She hesitantly unbuckled herself and mincingly stood up and picked up the huge lifesaving backpack she considered as an element of a nightmare she wished she'd never have to use in her life. After having double checked the lifesaver more than three times she brushed her trembling fingers on the handle of the door, unable to gather the nerve to pull it open. What was she jumping to? Who would find her if she went off course?

"Hopper, you gotta jump in five seconds."

In attempt to get a bit more time, she asked, "What's your name by the way?" She hoped the din of the blades muffled the tremor in her voice.

He did something on the control panel and grabbed the door handle but not opening it. "When I open this door, you jump out or I nudge you out, got it?" His tone was one of near frustration.

He yanking it open; Chris gasped as the cool mountain air gushed in with great force, threatening to pull her out. She unconsciously grabbed his shoulder for support.

"Name's Michael."

She forced a nervous smile. "Oh, like the guardian—"

For a nudge, it was powerful enough to send her diving down into the green. Her stomach lurched and tossed, the wind deafening her to her screaming. She reached back, an explosion of lifesaving fabric shot out, yanking her back up.

The speed of her drop was then reduced—but the fact remained—she was terribly afraid of heights. She could hardly draw breathe. She clenched at the ropes as if for dear life, her eyes shut.

Michael's words came to mind. "In this place, get ready to do the things that weren't even on yo bucket list."

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Someone was parachuting down. Levi knew this training ground was secret and well camouflaged. Whoever was intending to land knew where he or she was going. Was danger around the corner? He had been busy with target practice with a few other guys in these woods. They had left a few minutes ago. He leaned against a tree, unlocking his sidearm.

As the parachute drew closer, he knew it was going to get stuck in the branches above. The screaming became more audible too—a woman. He eased slightly—but he still had his gun trained on the descending.

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Chris tried steering away from the trees, but it was useless. She didn't know how! The leaves swished as her body penetrated. The ground was only a few feet away! But then she stopped descending. She looked up. No wonder! The parachute was stuck in the branches. She sighed in dismay, looking down at the distance to be covered to get to the ground, knowing there was no way she could make it down by jumping and still be in one piece.

A branch snapped above her. Then the sound of the ripping lifesaving sheet followed. Her mouth went dry, her throat felt constricted. The drop down was too far. "Jesus, help me!"

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Levi knew he could not be seen in his camouflage. The lady had no idea he was there. She was panting and mumbling something under her breath. If he were to be under her if the ripped parachute caused her to fall, he'd be able to catch her. She didn't have a large stature.

He waited. Nothing happened—so he took action. He aimed and shot one of the two ropes that held the parachute, severing it. The woman screamed hysterically, hanging upside down, but still holding on to the remaining with one hand.

She was screaming as though she was being tortured! He chose to end it. Severing the last rope with one shot, he caught her awkwardly with one arm around her waist and his other hand holding his sidearm. He immediately lowered her to the ground.

She turned to face him. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. She stumbled back, tripping over a fallen branch, she crashed to the ground. Realizing he was just in camouflage and his face painted black, she sighed in relief. She giggled, sounding exhausted. "Oh, you're just a man," she sighed, splaying completely on the forest floor with the bag pack still buckled on her.

As she lay there, Levi put the pieces together. This was probably other member to the new squad D. Smith was making—and what a new addition! She seemed to be purposing to take a nap. He went around to her head and went on one knee. She looked terrible—black streaks running down her face and matted blonde hair. Her eyes flickered open—a beautiful, clear emerald green bordered by dark long lashes.

There's a highlight, he thought to himself.

He knew this woman. He'd "met" her earlier today. Her eyes seemed vague, staring at nothing in particular. "Teacher?"

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Her eyes smarted. Startled by his deep voice, she gasped. She shot up and braced herself against a tree a safe distance away. Who was he? He rose—with the grace of a fighter. Chris did her best to calm down. Her fear of heights usually caused her to lose her level head—she needed it in case he tried to do something. But to her surprise, she was feeling no sense of foreboding whatsoever—but that didn't mean he was okay. The sight of some guy in the woods with his gun, wearing camouflage was not going to make her ease up. As if reading her thoughts, he tossed his gun under a tree.

"I won't hurt you."

"And how do I know that," she snapped back while she got the sudden feeling of déjà vu. The way he said it made her wonder if she knew him. He obviously recognized her by the way he'd said "teacher." His face paint made it difficult to make out features. If only he'd come closer.

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Levi noticed that the teacher had relaxed—but she was staring directly at him intently. She started fumbling with the parachute straps around her chest. He let her struggle—for a few minutes. He went over and helped her, sick of watching her fail at accomplishing such a simple task. As he undid each buckle, he could feel her staring up at him. Not willing to give her the satisfaction of gazing back into her eyes, he completed the tasks and turned on his heel to pick up his gun.

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Chris couldn't help but feel he was familiar to her. She shrugged off and stepped out of the rest of the parachute, but stayed were she was. She felt safer if he'd come to her than her coming to him. She tried one more time. "What color are my eyes?"

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Levi felt his patience thinning. Why the heck did she want to study his face? Was she suffering from some type of late teenage crush thing? Maybe teaching that age had affected her. "You've got green eyes," he replied sharply, even though he admitted to himself that he liked them. Feeling raw from the realization, he added, "How the heck did D. Smith see you as a perfect addition?"

Chris bit her tongue; she thought it would start to bleed. He was implying she was dumb! But anyway the question was dumb. She decided to cut to the chase. "How do you recognize me?"

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Levi replied bluntly. "I was the guy who kidnapped you from school." She was silent—so silent he turned. Her eyes could have been sparkling. She collapsed to her knees, sobbing.

He'd just received word through his hidden earpiece that she should begin her training immediately. He sighed. She was exhausted—her emotions were out of whack. He went to her side on one knee. He laid his hand on her shoulder. She lifted her teary eyes to his. "Sorry, I'm so tired—but so thankful—I'm not stuck in the middle of nowhere!"

"Well, you are sort of in the middle of nowhere—CIA's training ground. You're right where you are to be." He tried sounding gentle and comforting while he felt like he was going to explode from frustration.

She started giggling, her heading dropping. He rolled his eyes. She started weeping once more. He drummed his fingers against her back—mock comforting. She wrapped her arms around his waist, like a child, in complete gratitude. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and the other cupped the back of her head in return. He heard her sigh—a gentle exhale of relief. His frustration melted, his muscles relaxing—and something he didn't want to analyze took its place. It rose higher—an ice-melting warmth. Startled, he removed his arms from her and gently held her from him. He cleared his throat. "I guess it's time to start your training."

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