Family of Assassins

I’ve always loved my mom and dad. My name is Gabriel Starr, and I live a lucky life, I guess you could say, a blessed one, to have such cool parents. They both have the grace of a pair of models, they talk well, and always know how to make me feel like an exception.

The best part of being in this family, the trips, is we’re always going to cool places for impromptu vacations. Not just going off for those three-day ones, but the week-long extravaganzas.

To top it off, like whipped cream and a cherry on top of a Sundae, are my sisters. They’re twins, 14-year-olds, and I love them to the moon and back. I suppose I should go ahead and tell you, my friends call me Gabe.

Although I’m probably the happiest, luckiest, most blessed person you could ever meet, I do have some issues. But hey, don’t we all? I—

“Gabe, come on, you said you’d help us,” Galena said. Well, actually yelled is more like it.

“I’ll be right there,” I said. “Just make sure Chucklehead’s got hers ready too.”

“I’m right here, Gabriel Tyler. So, don’t call me Chucklehead.”

That was my other sister, Gabriella. She’s like, a lot of fun to tease. But she knows I would NEVER be mean to either of the two angels on purpose. I thought of myself as their protector, and I would be one day.

I’ve told them I’d never let anyone be mean to them, including future boyfriends. They asked me what I would say to a boy coming by to pick them up for a date.

My reply was, “She’s leaving happy, and she better come home happy… but not, too happy.” They laughed like a pair of hyenas at that.

As I've already said, my name is Gabe, and I’m the oldest of three kids in the family. Our last name is Starr, with my parents’ names being Devon and Brianna.

Once more, we plan on heading off for another week of fun, this time up in Canada. I’m not sure, but I think we’ll be staying in a spacious cabin on some secluded lake. It’s not like our usual vacations.

Please don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved traveling with my family. We’ve visited exotic places like Bali, Morocco, Japan, etc. We always stay in luxurious hotels and enjoy local culture.

I’m forever fascinated by the various languages, cuisines, and customs we encounter on the trips. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a dream. At least, until I wasn’t.

My dream life turned into a nightmare when I discovered the truth about my family. They were not ordinary tourists, but assassins who traveled around the world to take out their targets.

It happened on a trip to Rome, Italy. Up until then, I’d had no inkling of a thought. I mean, these were my parents, we were a close-knit and loving family.

I found out by accident when Dad’s suitcase slipped out of my hand and a hidden compartment in his bag popped open. Inside it, a gun, a silencer, a knife, and a folder with photos and information on a man who looked familiar to me was inside it.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, I realized the man had been the president of a small African country that we visited last month. I remembered seeing him on TV, giving a speech at a rally. And he was said to have been assassinated.

I remember, not thinking that much about it at the time, we just hurried and got out of the country. Dad had told us it was for our safety. It was something about "the fecal material is about to hit the fan,"

But now, I feel sick to my stomach. I just can’t believe my parents had killed this man, the president of a country, and maybe a lot of others. I wondered how long they’d been doing this, and why.

I wondered if our lives were complete lies, and have my parents always lied to us, or put my sisters and me in danger? I questioned if they really loved us, or if we were just part of a weird cover story so they could slip in and out of countries easier.

Confronting them was the only decision I could make regarding my parents and their secret. So, I waited until we got back to our hotel room after a day of sightseeing in Rome. I had already taken out the folder from my father’s suitcase and thrown it on the bed in my room.

One thing I was having difficulty with during our Rome sightseeing was pretending to act normal. Mom kept cutting her eyes over at me like she could read my mind. That’s the problem with being so close, everyone can detect anything out of the ordinary.

Dad seemed to be his usual self, but I caught him cutting his eyes to Mom, and they made that eye contact that signified mutual understanding between them. And even the girls asked me several times throughout the day if something was bugging me. So, I suppose I’m not that talented of an actor.

But, getting back to the blowout confrontation, as we entered the fancy apartment suites we were staying in, Dad walked into my parents’ bedroom while Mom went to the kitchen to throw together some grilled cheese sandwiches for Galena and Gabriella. And I stood out on the 4th-floor balcony, looking out at the busy city of Rome itself.

I put my fingertips to my forehead and began rubbing, I blocked out the sights and sounds of the city, the faint hum of an old song my mother used to sing to me as a little kid.

There was a sudden, harsh yell from inside the apartment. It was one I’ve not heard often in my life. And it gave me chills, running up and down my spine.

“Gabe, back in this room, NOW,” my father said. I cringed at the tone.

As I rushed in, knowing the subject, I caught Mom’s eye as she tightened up her lips, and nodded me toward my room. I turned to the girls and they both gave me worried exchanges, a combination of worry and pity.

I entered through the entrance with my head hung down, not making direct eye contact.

“What is this?” Dad asked, demanding more like it.

I lifted my eyes after a few seconds, looking at him with fear, not angry anymore. I hate disappointing Dad, he’s the one man I’ve always looked up to as my hero.

Dad and I exchanged a glance, and then his expression calmed to one of empathy and understanding. His voice calmed down once more, and I realized he was calm again.

“Gabe, we need to talk,” Dad said.

“No kidding,” I said with half-joking sarcasm. “You’re assassins. You kill people for money, or something. How the crap could you do this? How could you lie to me, and Galena, and Gabriella?”

Mom, who was now standing inside the doorway, with a gentle touch, shut the door with an audible sigh and sat down next to Dad. Just as Dad was about to speak, she raised her right hand in appearance as a Boy Scout salute, so Dad would hold his voice.

“I hear you two breathing, so come in,” Mom said.

The door opened just a bit, and two cute, 14-year-old girls with long dark hair came in with sheepish looks on their faces and sat on the end of the bed.

“It was her idea,” said Galena. She wasted no time throwing Gabriella under the bus.

“No, it wasn’t, you silly butt,” said Gabriella. “It was yours.”

Dad and Mom had furious expressions and Dad gave them his squinting, evil-eyed expression he’s famous for. It’s the look Mom loves to say is his “smoldering" expression.

“Enough, enough,” said Dad. Then he began to grin so big, that his lips rubbed elbows with his ears. “I suppose, it’s time for a family discussion. Your mother and I knew it was coming. We’ve tried to prepare you guys for this day.”

“Gabe, Galena, Gabriella, we are so sorry you had to find out this way,” said Mom. “We wanted to tell you when you were older, but the time was never the right time.”

“Tell us what?” I asked. “That our parents are murderers, monsters?” My voice was raised a couple of octaves and a few decibels.

Dad walked over to me, put an arm around my shoulders, and guided my head onto his shoulder. He always did this whenever I needed some comfort. And it worked, as usual.

“We’re not murderers, Gabe. We’re cleaning agents. We work for an organization called the Agency, protecting the world from bad people, dangerous people.”

“Protect the world from evil? What kind of nonsense is that? I don't think you killed the president of a country as a protector. How is that protecting the world?”

Dad opened the folder and pointed at the photos. The girls squeezed in close as well so they could see the folder and hear Dad’s explanation better.

“See this man, look at him, and I mean deep into his eyes, Gabe. Do you know who he was? He was a dictator who oppressed his own people, who committed atrocities against his own, and who supported terrorism by harboring true terrorists. He was a threat to global peace and security. We eliminated him for the greater good.”

“The greater good? That’s just an excuse to justify your actions. You don’t care about the greater good. You only care about yourselves.”

Mom reached out and placed her hand on my arm.

“Gabe, please listen to us. We do care about you, about both the girls. We love each of you more than anything in the world. You’re our kids, our pride, our joy.”

I pulled away from her, and Dad as well.

“Please don’t touch me, and don’t pretend you care for me. I guess I’m not sure what true love is. I do know, that caring for people isn’t proven by going around killing people. Love isn’t lying to your family, and it is NOT making your kids live in that lie.”

I got up and grabbed my backpack.

“Where are you going?” Dad asked.

“Away from you guys. I can’t stay here with you anymore. I don’t trust you anymore.”

I looked over to Galena and Gabriella. Our eyes locked, and both had rivers of tears flowing down their cheeks. I ran out of the room, ignoring their calls.

I didn’t know where I was going, or what I was going to do. I only knew that I had to get away from my family, from their secrets, and from their crimes.

I wished I could go back to the time when our family was a true family unit and when I loved traveling with them. Most of all, I longed for the time when I didn’t know the truth.

But I know, that’s impossible. I know my life will never be the same again. Because my family is a family of assassins.