My Covert Bodyguard

45: Use the Force, Cass

November 14, 1831

It has been two weeks since I have run away. Much like other slaves who have escaped to the North, I have as well. I heard of Nat Turner's rebellion, and I could not bear watching all the cruelty any longer. A man named William Curtis took me in. He told me he is a leader of an abolitionist movement, hired specially by Northern congressmen, and working alongside William Lloyd Garrison. We are so alike, William and I, though William is more patient and calm than I. I trust him, perhaps more so than is wise. But I feel so safe in his arms, and I never want to leave his side. I even want to tell him of my own little group I have myself, although I have a feeling he would be against it, as what the Scarlett Legion is doing is strictly illegal. We steal from Southerners, especially men in politics, and use it to fund and help slaves flee. I understand that is illegal, and perhaps even wrong, but I despise the dragging conflict, and I simply do not understand how we can abolish this injustice once and for all without violence.

I couldn't help but to see the uncanny resemblance between Sloane and I. Except while she ran away from what she was against, I ran to it. But we were both fighting for what was right. At least I hoped I was. And I wondered if Sloane was right, about violence. Would violence be necessary to overcome the Shadow Legion, just like the Civil War?

Ever since "Anna Waltmann" commented on my photo, who I was definitely sure was either Brook or Kyle, I was at least more comfortable knowing the fact that the Office knew I was safe for now. I noticed many of the other trainees had said they go to "Hawaii Military Academy" which is a supposedly legitimate school, but only on transcripts. Those trainees also often post pictures of them in gear or in combat, so I thought I would do that as well to let them know I was training as well. Now that I had gotten contact with the Office, there was no time for fooling around. I had to train, convince as many people I can of my loyalty and competence, but mainly get as many people to trust me as I could.

Reading Sloane's diary had definitely given me a new sense of purpose, and perhaps that was why Aunt Helen had given the book to me in the first place. Once I had wrapped up my studies, I changed into a worn out T-shirt and jeans and headed to the training room. I went to the artillery storage and grabbed a gun, a rifle, and silencing ear muffs, and head for the shooting range. I was less scared to handle weaponry now, but it didn't mean I didn't suck any less, and I needed to start practicing my skills whenever I could.

I adjusted my handgun, as Trevor had taught me how to do, and pointed it at the target. My aim was sloppy, hitting literally anywhere but the target. I grew frustrated, because I was doing exactly how I was taught to shoot. Point, Pull, Follow through. I huffed as the bullet passed way over the target's head. I groaned and pulled the gun up again. Then someone unexpectedly tapped my shoulder, and I shrieked, almost dropping my gun but instead pointing it at the person who had snuck up on me.

In front of me stood a very shocked Niko with raised arms. I gasped and immediately put my arms down, turning the safety on and putting my gun aside. The fact that I could have so easily killed him made me beyond nervous.

"God, please don't scare me like that when I have a gun in my hands."

"Didn't expect you to be so jumpy."

"I thought I was alone," I grumbled, looking around at the dark, eerily quiet training area. "Besides, it's kind of creepy down here."

Niko smirked. "Scaredy Cat."

"A scaredy cat who could have killed you just now." 

His smirk deepened. "You're not wrong."

I sighed, leaning against the railing. "So about the other night..."