This is the story of my wife Katarina and how we met and fell in Love and what I had to do to save her. It was 1992 when I first learned she even existed. A guy I grew up with contacted me. Iggy since he hated Igor was born in Rumania and came here when he was five years old with his parents. We were in kindergarten together and though he spoke English it was very accented and hard to understand. His parents were professors and taught him English as well as Rumanian. My great grand father was Japanese and Korean, his wife my great grand mother was Italian. They came here shortly after they married as both families would not accept the marriage. My grandfather looked more like his mother and he married and Irish girl he met at his place of work and a year later had my father. Dad was a star athlete in high school and college and met my mom while at college. Her parents were old money New Yorkers that lived on the upper east side.
The story goes when her parents asked who the slant eye man sitting on the groom's side at the wedding was. My mom told them: "He is Ron's grandfather and he is a wonderful man."
Her father, my maternal grandfather demanded she call off the wedding. She refused and didn't speak to her father till I was born five years later. I think the fact that my parents named me Wilbur after mom's dad's father softened his heart. He even became friends with my great grandfather. I never learned why my great grandfather's father left Japan. I do know he taught my grandfather and my dad how to fight a type on karate that I also learned from him and my grandfather.
Iggy and I became friends and when other kids made fun of him or attacked him, I would defend him. One day an older kid started to hit Iggy and when I went to stop him, he swung at me. Knowing how to defend myself, I ducked his punch and swept his legs out from under him, Iggy and I started to walk away when he spun me around and grabbed my throat. Knowing what to do I shoved my thumb between his thumb and his first finger wrapping my fingers around his thumb and dislocated it. We then left hm crying in pain.
He showed up at my house later with his father, my dad answered the door and after hearing what I did, called me to the door. When the kid's father saw I was younger and much smaller than his son. He told my dad he was sorry to have bothered him.
My father asked me: "What was that about?"
I told him what had happened and he told me: "You can not do that to people or you may end up in trouble."
My great grandfather said something in Japanese or maybe Korean that I didn't understand. He had been speaking more and more not using English, but still knew what we were saying in English. I asked my dad: "What did he say."
My dad said: "Never mind, I don't think he knows what you did."
Later that night I asked my grandfather what my great grandfather had said, He told me: "He said fuck that bully you should have broken his arms."
After that no one bothered Iggy or me again. When we graduated high school, we joined the army together. During training we were taught basic hand to hand combat. One of the things was what to do if we were attacked by someone with a knife.
The instructor saw he shake my head and asked me: "Do you think you can do it better than me you fucking worthless grunt."
He had me stand where he had been and he took the knife and told me: "You better hope you are as smart as you think you are."
He then came at me, three seconds later I had the knife in my right hand, my left tilting his head back the knife at his throat. I released him and handed him the knife.
He said: "Holy shit, I heard there are guys that can do what you just did, but I thought it was a myth."
A captain had been watching and told the instructor: "Sargent I will be taking that recruit with me."
He led me to the head quarters building and to what I guest was his office. He made several phone calls before he told me: "Kid you seem to have a certain set of skills that a special agency within the government can use. Besides your hands what other weapons do you know how to use?"
I told him: "My great grandfather always said. If an opponent sees you have a weapon, he can plan how to defend against it. Better to use things he will not suspect can be used as weapons, Sir."
He said: "Such as?"
I told him: "A playing card, pencil, or a coffee stirrer, any ordinary thing that can be turned into a weapon, Sir."
He then asked: "What do you know about firearms?"
I said: "Only what I have learned here so far, Sir"
He reached for his side arm and placed it in front of me and told me: "Take it apart and reassemble it."
When I finished, he asked me: "How many times have you done that to this type of firearm?"
I told him: "That was the first time so far we have only disassembled and reassembled our rifles, Sir,"
He then asked me: "How is it you knew how to disassemble and reassemble this weapon?"
I explained: "I have seen it done before on TV and in the movies. Sir."
He then asked me: "Do you have personal things in the barracks you want to take with you if you leave now?"
I told him: "No, Sir the only things there were issued to me here. Sir."
We left the base and he stopped a clothing store and bought me three changes of clothes complete with under wear and socks and a coat. Next stop was the airport, but not the military one near the base. It was a big commercial one and we went to general aviation and boarded a private plane. Two hours later I found myself at a place he referred to as the farm. For the next two months I went through training that was nothing like a had already had.
I was only called Black Four not my name. There were six of us and each of us was called Black and the number we were assigned. Each week we were taught a different language. Not so much fluent but enough to get by. We were forbidden to talk about our past with each other. It was stressed that it was to protect us and our families. It was assumed amongst us that we were being trained as a unit for clandestine missions. Boy, were we wrong, I only ever saw two of the six of us after our training ended. One Black Two on a mission and Black One after I retired in a coffee shop in Paris. Both times we did not acknowledge the other in any way that someone could tell we knew each other.
It took me a couple of years to adjust to being a civilian again, but once I did it was time to get a job. But what to do, that proved to be a problem for me. I tried several of them but was soon bored, they were just not exciting enough. Then one day I guy came out of a building on Washington Street downtown Boston and three guys started to rob him. As if on auto pilot I stepped in and put them down. Turned out the guy was a diamond merchant and the three were after the diamonds he was carrying.
The detective on the case and I became friends and he suggested I become a body guard. He told me he would help me get a concealed carry permit. I explained to him I didn't need it or want it. The diamond merchant approached me later about being a body guard for him and several other diamond merchants when they are doing business in Boston.
I agreed but only if I could do it my way. When I explained how I would do it he agreed it made more sense than the traditional way it is done. These merchants are most venerable when the hit the street. In the buildings they visit there is security and cameras. On the street with so many people and traffic the thief's can blend in and make their getaway easier. I told him I would be outside and went he comes out I would follow at a safe distance and intervene if someone approached him. If I was with him, they most likely would use guns and that would make it more dangerous.
For two years I did that for him and several others he knew. In that time there was only one other incident and the would-be thief was hit by a car as he fled empty handed.
I stopped because I was bored, the money was good but it left me with too much free time. That is when Iggy and I ran into each other, his family had moved from the neighborhood. He was eating a sub at the sub shop we use to hang out in front of. We exchanged numbers and made plans to get together.
Since I had retired from my government work, I had met several people but none I would call friends. Iggy was my friend and I was glad we had reconnected. He was married and his wife kept trying to set me up with her friends. I went out with a few, but they were looking to get serious right away. One of them and I went out the most. We both wanted the same thing a fuck buddy plain and simple. She was married but her husband had taken off several years earlier. So, it worked for both of us and there was no do you love me drama.
Then one day Iggy called me all upset, his cousin in Rumania called him. Iggy told me: "My cousin's daughter took a job as a nanny here in the states and he hasn't heard from her for two months. The first three months she called every week but now nothing and her phone goes to voice mail and it is full. Please I need you to help me find her."
I could see he was taking his cousin being missing hard. I asked him: "Where was she working as a nanny, do you have the address of the people she was working for? The agency that made the arrangement, a picture of her and how old she is?"
Iggy said: "Upstate New Yok outside Albany, I have the address and the people's information, plus the agency info. She is eighteen almost nineteen. This is a picture of her when she visited with her family last year."
I looked at the picture and the girl in the picture was stunning, a young tall and innocent looking teenager. Iggy had no idea how bad this may turn out to be, but I did and if she isn't alright. I will make sure those responsible will regret harming her.
This was something that Iggy needs to stay out of. He will be more help to me here, if he comes, he will hinder me in what I must do to get his cousin back. It took some time to convince him that I need to do this alone. But when I explained what I needed him to do back here he accepted it. I got everything he had about her and had several more pictures of her made.
He wanted to call the local PD where she was working, but I stopped him. Explaining we do not know if we can trust them. Once back at my place I called a contact I use to work with and Brooke gave me the name and number of some one she trusts in Albany PD. I packed and was on the Pike heading west twenty minutes later. Since I left Boston late it was 3:15 AM when I got to Albany. I found a 24-hour place to eat and decided to wait to get a room till I contacted the person Brooke gave me.
7 AM, I call my contact and she was expecting my call. She said: "Our mutual friend says you are a fellow graduate of the Farm's Black program. How can I help you?"
I asked her: "Did our friend tell you what I am doing here?"
She said: "Only that you are looking for a missing teenage girl."
I asked: "How soon can we meet and I will fill you in?"
The call ended and a woman sat down a cross from me and said: "How about now Wilbur?"
I asked: "You must be Becca. how did you know where to find me and please call me Wil."
