Phoenix

28. Flevoland

​The back door of the Van Buren estate slammed against its frame with a violent crack as the young woman scrambled into the cool Dutch afternoon. Behind her, the kitchen was a blur of stainless steel and shadow. Fear, cold and crystalline, had taken hold of her, turning her movements into a frantic, instinctive dance for survival.

​Arya was only a heartbeat behind. She didn't have time to think, her training taking over. Her boots hammered against the tile, but she underestimated the desperation of the woman she was chasing. As Arya crossed the threshold onto the stone pavement of the patio, she didn't see the leg extended until it was too late.

​It was a clumsy, desperate move, but it was effective. Arya's foot caught the obstruction. Momentum, usually an ally in a chase, became a cruel enemy. She stumbled, her arms flailing for a fraction of a second before gravity claimed her.

She hit the pavement hard-not with a roll, but with a bone-jarring impact that sent a shockwave through her shoulder and up her spine. Her face hit the stone with a sickening thud, and for a moment, the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of grey light and ringing bells.

​The torture didn't end with the fall. As Arya gasped for air, the girl delivered several heavy, panicked kicks to her side. Each blow was a dull explosion of pain against Arya's ribs.

​'Stars in broad daylight,' Arya thought through the haze, her vision blurring as she curled into a protective ball.
​By the time she managed to lift her head, her face smeared with grit and a thin line of blood, she saw the woman disappearing toward the dock at the edge of the Westeinderplassen lake. A few seconds later, the silence of the afternoon was shattered by the high-pitched scream of a high-performance outboard engine.

​The speedboat tore away from the dock, its bow lifting as it cut a white scar across the dark blue water.

​Arya let out a low, bitter groan and pulled herself up to her knees. Her ribs felt like they were being squeezed in a heated vice. Footsteps hurried through the kitchen behind her-Jin had arrived.

​"What on earth happened?!" Jin's voice was a mix of shock as he reached the door, looking at Arya's disheveled state. "Where is she?"

​"You call that 'thing' a girl?!" Arya spat, wiping a smudge of blood from her lip with the back of her hand. "She kicked me down like a stray dog and ran!"

​Jin's brow furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty patio. "Where?"

​Arya stood up slowly, her muscles screaming in protest. She pointed a trembling finger toward the lake. "The water. She took the speedboat from the dock. She's halfway to the middle of the lake by now."

​Jin stared at the wake of the boat.

"Weren't you right behind her? How did she manage to get enough lead to start an engine and untie the lines?"

​"She's smarter than she looks," Arya said, leaning against the doorframe. "She didn't just run. She waited for me. She set a trap just outside the door. I was moving too fast to see it. When I went down, she made sure I stayed down with a few well-placed kicks. She wasn't just running; she was fighting."

​"Why does she sound like a trained operative?" Jin muttered, his hand moving toward the concealed holster under his jacket.

​"No," Arya shook her head, wincing. "She's not trained. If she were, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you; I'd have a crushed larynx. The kicks were random, frantic. She's just a common person pushed to the brink. She got away on pure reflex and the courage of the terrified."

​"Common person?" Jin's voice was skeptical. He looked at the dock, then back at the driveway where the woman's car was still parked. "Then why the lake? If you're a common person, your instinct would be to hit the road. Your car is right there. It's faster, it's familiar. Why risk a boat?"