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She hated winter. It was the coldest and most depressing season of the year.
Every time she saw the snow and felt the biting coldness against her skin, she was reminded of the saddest moment of her life. Memories of a time, of a life, long gone but never truly forgotten.
It was moments like these, when she was surrounded by nothing but snow everywhere and snowflakes floating down the sky like white drops of tears, that these memories came washing over her from the very back of her mind where she had buried it.
*****
It was cold and dark. She sat huddled against her father's side in the back seat of the car, shivering from the chill as well as from fear. The coat her nana had bundled her in it, was thick, but beneath it she was only wearing a thin cotton dress, suitable for a dinner inside but hardly suitable for the cold outside.
There had not been enough time for her to change. Everything had happened in a flash. One moment she was taking her lessons in the music room and another she was bundled up in her thickest coat, gloves and cap and told to stay quiet as she was carried out the house in her father's arms. Through the back door as well. They never used that door. Only the servants used it when they left the house or entered it from one errand or another.
She did not understand why nana was not with them either. Nana always accompanied her when she left the house. It was a rule; she was not to leave the house without nana's presence. Why were all the rules changing suddenly? And who were these men?
Even as she thought of them, she lifted her head slightly so that she could peek through from above her father's thick fur coat sleeve. Two of them were sitting in the front seat. One was driving the car, but his eyes were shifting too much. For a moment there she met the man's eyes, through the mirror. Dark eyes, sharp and piercing. It made her breath catch in her throat. But as soon as the eyecontact was made, it was broken again as the man shifted his eyes elsewhere. To the side, in front of them and behind them on the mirror. His movements frightened her as much his gaze. Her Papa's driver never shifted his eyes that much before. If she did not know better she would say that he was afraid of something.
The other one was sitting just in front of her. She could not make out much of him. Secretly she called him the silent one, since he had not said one word since she and Papa came out the house to meet them on the street a few blocks away, where the car had been parked.
The last man sat at her papa's other side. He and papa were conversating quietly between them, too low for her to catch no more than a word or two above the sound of the driving car. But she recognized the language he spoke. He was American, she was sure of it. During the years they have lived here, she had met several other of Papa's acquaintances who spoke English, but they had the strange accent to their language that was distinguished for britishpeople. This man spoke with the same accent as her mama did. Though it has been at least three years since she last saw her mama, she still remembered her voice clearly.
Thinking of her mama made the same aching feeling return to her chest and a lump form in her throat. She closed her eyes against the tears that were forming, pressing them back. She still missed her mama terribly. No matter how nice nana was to her, she was not her mama and never could take her place. She missed hearing her mama�s voice as she sang her to sleep at nights. She especially missed their dancing lessons. Her mama was a beautiful dancer, like a princess floating across the stage. But she was gone, never to return to them and all she and papa had left were each other.
Unconsciously the small arm that she had thrown around her papa's middle tightened its grip. Papa stopped whatever he was saying to his companion and looked down at her. There was such gentleness in him and so much love in his eyes when he looked at her. She felt the warmth return to her just by watching his eyes and a tremulous smile danced across her lips in response.
He was always going to be the most beautiful man she had ever met. He was her prince, the way she imagined him looking whenever nana was telling her a fairy tale to sleep. Just as her mama was her princess. Secretly in her heart, she was looking forward to the day when her parents will be together again to live happily ever after just like the stories said.
Despite the sweet smile she cast up at him, lightening up the car like the small star that she was, he could see through the dim light that her eyes were huge and frightened. Even as he could feel her small body shivering against him. He wished there was someway he could have spared her the fear, but all that he could hope now was that whatever happens tonight, his daughter will come out of it unharmed. She was his bright star, the only beauty that he had been able to create through all the destruction and death.
Sighing inwardly, he brushed a hand through her silken hair. As much to comfort her, as himself.
A slight touch on his left hand from his companion told him that they had arrived to their destination. He looked up and squinted his eyes slightly. It was blowing up to a storm, he could see it. Snow was flying wildly against the windows and the windshield was moving frantically to brush it off so the driver could see. Lights coming from tower to their right, told him that they were nearing the landingroad, where the plane was waiting.
Few moments later, the car came to a halt. His companion opened the door and stepped out of the car with an ease that looked both graceful as dangerous. Through the corner of his eyes, he could see him resting a hand inside his coat, where his gun was hidden. It made him even more aware of the cold metal against his left side, just beneath his arm. A thing that he had carried for years and used often as not, but that he was fiercely hoping was not going to be needed tonight.
Smoothly he stepped out of the car. Turning around, careful of not letting any of his worry show in his face, he smiled down at his daughter and extended a hand to her. Small-gloved hand took it with an easy faith of a trusting child's, even as she allowed him to help him out of the car like a lady. Pride as well as fear, constricted in his throat as he watched his daughter.
Bundled up in her thick coat, she looked so small, so fragile. She was barely six years old, but already she showed a lot more signs of a girl older than her age. There was a maturness in her, a sharp and aware mind of a girl who has seen and been through far more than her other friends. Other girls of her age would have started crying by now from their fears, but she was fighting it, trying bravely to not let it show. Calmness and control surrounded her with a regal air. Though his companions did not say anything, he was aware of the fact that his daughter had managed to impress them and for a triple of veterans who has seen a lot in their lives, that was not a small thing.
�� The plane is ready and set to fly the moment you are on board. Pietro will take the car. ��
He looked at the younger man. Blue eyes regarded him without emotions whatsoever. Silently he had to admire the mans guts. From the look of his face, he would say the man was at least a dozen years younger than him and could not have been more than four or at the most five years in the service. He was handling himself far better than he himself would have at that age of his life. Especially knowing that might lay ahead of him.
It was as if his thoughts had called upon them. All of a sudden there was a loud screeching sound as tires were being burned in the ground. With a flashing speed he looked up, a hand going for the gun in his holster even the other one was pushing his daughter protectively behind him. From a distant away, he could see the flashlights of at least four cars speeding around the corner of the fencegatepost and heading for them.
A calmness settled over him as he saw his chasers approaching. In a way he had known deep in his heart that there was no getting away, not this time. At least not for him.
Looking down at his daughter he gathered her up in his arms. �Everything will be fine. I love you, my star.�
�I love you too, Papa.� Came the muffled reply and he felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around his neck the way they already had wrapped around his heart. He felt the sweetness as well as the pain when he had entangle himself.
��Rob, you and Jake take my daughter on board. �� He told the two men even as he pushed his daughter towards Jake, who was standing closest to the open plane door.
Having stayed quiet for so long, so as not to disturb him on his work, she stirred for the first time this night. ��No Papa! �� She cried out and shook her head, even as she reached out her hands towards him.
The silent man, the one her papa had called Jake, took hold of her though even as her father shied away from her touch. The single gesture hurt more than anything else would have and tears sprang up in her eyes. ��Papa...�� she whispered in inquiry, even as the hurt of her fathers rejection shone through her eyes.
He smiled at her, trying to take away the sting of gesture. He let her see the love in his eyes, even as he said the something to her. His words made the tears fall from her eyes, twin glistening like shards of diamonds in the night, mingled with the snowflakes that flew against her face. It was that picture of her that he was trying to memorize in his head, before he turned and jumped in to the car again with a curt order for Pietro to drive. He deafened himself against the scream of his daughters voice, calling him even as he hardened his heart from going over there to take her in to his arms for one last time.
She tried to run after him, but Jake grabbed hold of her and before she could react she was being lifted in the air and carried to the opposite way, away from her father. She tried to fight, she tried to bite, but it was to no avail. She yelled at him, demanding him to let her go, but the man had turned stone deaf.
Soon though her voice was accompanied by the sounds of something else, something far more terrifying. It sounded almost like firecrackers, that they used to blow in the new year, except that there was a difference to it. It was the sound of gunshots! She had seen those sounds on movies to know, not that she was allowed to by her father. But servants never paid attention to you sneaking up on them when they were in a thrilling scene.
�� Papa! �� she screamed. Through the wind and raving snow, she could distinguish the car that her father was on heading straight for the other approaching cars. One was heading towards them though in full speed and a loud crack sounded near them. The sound was deafening and with horror she saw Rob, holding a gun in his hand shooting at the car. Someone on the car shot back and Rob hunched down.
She and Jake were nearly through the door when he suddenly grunted and stumbled forward. He lost his grip on her and she fell forward, landing hard on the floor. Gasping for breath as well as pain, she looked up and saw Jake's face go pale. He was holding a hand over his left thigh even as he held a metal gleaming in his other. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was a gun and she nearly lost consciousness when she saw that through his pale hand, the red water sipped through was blood.
�� Get further inside, girl. �� he ordered. His eyes never left the door, he shifted a bit to a better position even as he aimed and fired.
She flinched at the sound. It was one thing seeing a man fall by a gunshot in the movie another to see it in reality. Was someone out there falling dead on the ground because of that shot? Was her father? They were shooting at him too.
��Move it girl! And keep your head down at all times. �� Jake barked.
As in a trance, she did as she was told. In her mind several different scenes played in her head all of them of her papa falling, hands clutching his chest even as blood streamed through like they were doing now with Jake's leg.
�� Rick, start the engine!�� Jake barked.
��Already started. �� came the reply.
He was right above the sounds of gunshot, she could hear the sounds of machine running and the plane vibrating with power.
�� Get inside, I'll cover you. �� Jake shouted.
She didn't know who it was he was talking but soon enough she saw the dark color of someone's head poking through the door. For a moment there cheer joy filled her as thoughts of her father returning filled her head, but reality quickly woke her up when a tall almost gangly looking person climbed/crawled through the door.
It was Rob.
His left hand was covered with blood, even as he clutched at a gun in his right hand. His face was wet and not all came from the snow outside, though enough was blowing in through the door. He was having difficulty getting inside half of his lower body was still dangling outside. Jake reached out the hand that he was holding over his injured hand to pull at his coat, even as he kept his eyes on his enemies. Wincing slightly as every movement brought stabs of pain up his legs.
Before she knew what she was doing, she had moved and taking hold of Rob's free hand, she pulled with all her strength. She received a startled look from the man, then a smile before they both started getting to work.
The sudden movement of the plane, nearly sent her toppling over him, since she was hunched over, but years of practice with her balance at dancing saved her. One of Rob's legs was inside and putting it against the threshold he used it as a leverage and pulled the rest of him inside. For a moment there he lay there on the floor panting and breathing, but a sharp order from Jake made him move immediately.
Together the two men helped to close the door.
She watched them fight against the howling wind and the whipping snow from where she sat. On the floor, among puddles of water made from melted snow mingled with blood from both men's wounds. The coldness was biting, chilling her to her very bones. She was freezing, not just from the coldness from her body but from the coldness of her heart as well as she realized that her papa was still down there. Somewhere out there in the cold. Where unknown enemies were firing guns, aimed to wound and maybe even kill.
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