Powerless. For years she had felt it. Felt control glided away from her. Felt weak resisting the blows of the colossal world. Felt exposed and vulnerable.
But nothing she had felt before could have prepared her for this.
She had committed her life to putting herself in danger to help others. To gain information to save lives.
So why, when it mattered most could she do nothing but watch?
She had been recruited for the CIA from Georgetown university and had been in training 4 months after graduation. She had been one of the best in her unit and was promoted to a higher position just two years after she had been emitted. Her family believed that she had a government job based in DC and feeling pride for their daughter’s success, never seemed to care about the details of the day to day.
She then posed as a dispatch for the U.S. government positioned in Moscow Russia, where she worked at the embassy and gained connections along with trust.
Though she would never have emitted it, she had been drawn to the CIA in the first place because she had always felt out of place in situations growing up and she had wished with all of her might that she had a secret that her classmates were not aware of. The CIA had encompassed all of her longings, though it had never made her feel in control, as she had hoped it would. In fact, at times it made her feel less powerful then any normal civilian, because she knew that she could rarely act on her own accord. Despite this she, her work made her feel alive and with purpose, even on the repetitive days at the embassy.
After 4 years based in Moscow she had been given an assignment that required putting her life in grave apparel. She was to make a connection with a man called Adrik. She was to work with him and gain his trust. If all went as planned she would soon have a connection with a group known as CDCP, central democracy control party. This group had been on the radar of the United States for years and many agents had been posted within their ranks. She had been honored to receive this assignment. She had grown up hearing about this group from her mother who had been fascinated by secret organizations and had done a great deal of research on them.
She was successful in gaining trust and rising in the ranks. To prove her alliance she had to do unspeakable things and even the thought of them throttled her conscience. But her potion in CDCP was valuable and the information she acquired was irreplaceable.
One evening her presence had been requested in a meeting room. She walked through the halls of CDCP’s main building. Her shadow, cast in strange contortions from the unnatural yellowy light, moved as though reluctant to find out what may be waiting for her.
She entered the room. It was a room she was familiar with, with chairs lined against one of the walls and no windows. It was emptier than she had ever seen it with only 5 or 6 others. She took her seat and looked around to observe the inhabitants.
All air in her body seemed to vanish and for a moment, she could not breath. There, in the middle of the room was her father.
Her father was a businessman who often traveled abroad for work. But he had only once traveled to Russia for a work trip and that was when she had been very small. Perhaps a work trip had brought him to Russia again, but she could not imagine how work would led him to a CDCP building. His head had turned as she had entered the room and for one wild moment she thought he would shout her name in greeting but then coming to her senses, she remembered she was heavily disguised. She noticed that his hands were chained behind his back and his check had a gash in it.
The senior director of CDCP cleared his throat. And the little talk in the room ceased. He spoke in low, harsh, Russian.
“I have gathered you because we have, I believe, a problem. This man,” he jabbed a thumb in the direction of her father. “entered into this building today at 6:43 pm. When asked by security why he had entered he said that he had a meeting here. When asked further inquiry he could not answer any questions. He is American.” He paused letting the final words hover in the air before continuing on.
“The guards took him to me and once under pressure he revealed to know a great deal of information about CDCP. We know he can not-”
“Look,” It was her father. For a moment he seemed just as surprised to hear himself speak as everyone else in the room, then he gained control of himself. “I don’t know what is going on. I don’t understand anything any of you are saying. I think this is all a mistake. I am a businessman. I thought this was where I had a meeting but I must have gotten lost. I never meant to cause any trouble. If you could just let me get on my way.” His voice shook and his eyes were filled with horror.
“If you are just businessman, how do you know so much?” The senior director said in a heavy accent.
“I- Its my wife she is fascinated with… with this sort of thing-”.
The director slapped him hard across the face. It took all of her control not to wince. She was completely at a loss of what to do.
“I will ask you this one more time. How do you know so much?”
“I’ve already told you.” Whimpered her father. He was hit hard in the chest.
“I will give you one last chance. How do you know so much.” Anger was emanating from the director and the room seemed to get hotter.
“Honestly, it’s nothing. I have just heard about you from my wife, please.”
She watched, biting her tongue to keep her from shouting out, as her father was hit again and again. She could do nothing to stop it. Powerless. Bam. Helpless. Bam. impotent. Bam.
Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might break through her chest. Her head felt oddly light and fuzzy. If she did anything to stop the cruelty her father was receiving it would expose her. Not only would that put her and her father's life at risk, it would also put everyone else in her unit at risk and ruin the whole operation that the CIA had so carefully formed inside the base of CDCP.
She could do nothing but watch. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the beating ceased.
“Take him.” The Senior Director said to the woman sitting on her right, who jumped up and gruffly dragged her father from the room. The room fell silent.
“He is not intelligence.” said the Director. “If he were, he would not have just walked into our building, exposing himself.”
“What are you suggesting, sir?” asked the man sitting a few seats down from her.
“I could not say. But he knows much about us. He knows too much.” The words were a death penalty. She knew they would not let him leave the building now. Not after what he had seen. Not after what he knew.
She stood abruptly. She had made her decision. Hurrying from the room she muttered something about a bathroom.
She ran down the hall in the direction she knew that they would have taken her father.
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