If I even began to know where to look for the people that did this to you, I could spend the rest of my life killing them, and it wouldn’t be enough. Taken at five. A killer by nine. I don’t even want to think about how they managed to do that to you. Sent you to kill a pedophile lawyer. Sure, he never got to touch you, but that’s hardly the point, is it.
The rest of the file, close to three inches thick, contains a list of your confirmed kills. It’s a big list. I guess when you start at nine, that’s to be expected. Your dad was a pilot. I wonder if that explains the fear. Don’t even want to think about how they could have turned it against you.
You let me read your file, worried that it would have me judge you on it. I won’t. You had mine. You didn’t end up killing me. I figure the guys that write files just don’t have all the facts. Not too nice things they said about your mental state. Not that they minded, when that animal in you would kill for them. It explains the incredible control they tried to programme you with, to use that beast in you for themselves. I figure I’ve seen you at your worst already, and I still want you.
I take the files into the back, and incinerate them both. They’re originals. People might remember some aspects, but, if they don’t see it in paper in front of them, they’re not going to believe it. No one’s going to blackmail you again, Ava.
You haven’t moved. Your face is resigned, waiting for the hammer to fall, but knowing that there’s nothing to do but wait.
“It’s done, Ava, and I still want you to stay with me. Nothing that file says about you is going to change that.”
You say nothing, just that same soft smile. I help you out of the chair, still being gentle with your right arm. It’s better, but still a little stiff. Sit back as far as I can in the pilots chair, sit you right in front of me, your back to my chest, and hold you for a minute. Reach over, shut off the controls for the ship, and let her drift. Put your hands out, on the small half wheel, cover your hands with mine.
Search the monitor for an outpost, we need supplies, maybe trade this in for something with a bit more guts.
“We have to land somewhere sooner or later. Help me find somewhere to put her down.”
Flutter in your gut, your heart racing. I wonder if you ever got to fly with your dad before they took you from him. Your heart stills and grows calm, right before we land.