Prologue

Leaving Life Behind

“Ma’am,” said the Secret Service agent to the hysterically crying woman while handing her a tissue. The two secret service agents glanced at each other, silently agreeing that “hysterical woman preparedness” should be added to the service’s training program. The agents felt awkward—having devoted their lives to their job, they had no clue how to act.

“Honey,” said the man sitting down next to his wife with a fresh box of Kleenex across from the clueless agents, “you knew this day, er-” he glanced at the clock, nine thirty-six, “—night would come when the agency gave her to us.”

“I know, I know,” sniffled the woman. “But I didn’t think it would come so soon!” She dragged the word out so it had multiple syllables. The woman erupted into a new wave of tears.

“I, uh,” sputtered the dark Secret Service agent to the man, “need to, er, load up the car, sir.”

Her bags are over by the staircase,” said the man as he nodded towards a largish trunk and two medium-sized duffel bags.

“Thank you,” he said. “Ma’am?” He offered her another tissue.

“No, thanks, I’m okay,” she said and the first agent left. There was an awkward silence that adorned the air like mold on overdue fruit. Footsteps coming down the carpeted stairs broke the silence. The second agent looked up and the man and woman turned. The crying woman got up from the couch and went over to the girl and hugged her.

“Mom—I mean, Sara—don’t cry,” said the girl.

“We’re going to miss you so much,” sobbed the woman clutching the girl tighter.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but we need to get going,” said the second agent. The girl shifted over to the door. She slipped on her black and red flip-flops and stuffed two pairs of Converse into her black bag. The one red-jeweled rose amongst other red and gray non-jeweled ones shimmered in the light. Like a light at the end of a long, dark, dreary tunnel.

“Bye,” said the girl solemnly as she exited the house followed by the agent. The silver chain draped down her thigh jingled together as she approached the car. She stepped inside the roomy SUV and plopped her backpack onto the seat next to her.

They drove from Holly Street Commons until they entered the sandy, almost road-less desert. A huge, mall-like building rose from the ground out of nowhere. Only it wasn’t a mall, or a factory, or a sports dome, or a store, or a public building of any kind.

It was Area 51.