Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) by J.D. Hale

hour and we can have a little fighting match.”
    I stalked inside the house.
    The walk to my room is long, as I don’t like elevators. Too quiet. If somebody was in the mansion, looking for me, I wouldn’t hear them unless they were running up stairs. The walk, though long, is beautiful, since all the walls are glass, and I was walking up a spiral staircase. The valley that the mansion was located in was so vibrant that each day when you looked out a window, there was a different view. Each day in Ireland brings new mystery in the landscape, each passing moment changing the world. Going higher and higher into the sky, I could finally see the lake a mile or so away. It was so perfect and clear today that I could not bear to look away until I had to. The mountains to the left were almost covering the sun on its descent to nighttime.
    When I reached my room on the top floor, I was, as always, awestruck by it. The large circular room was full of sunlight. A large marbled fountain was directly across from the door, gallons of water flooding over marble slabs and stones. It was beautiful when the sun hit the water, creating a glistening rainbow of light across the room. The rest of the décor was themed around the fountain. My queen size bed was marble with white silk cover. The bureau, bedside tables, and mirror were all the matching cream marble. The carpet was pristine white and soft under my feet as I took off my shoes.
    I placed the shoes I was wearing on a rack and walked to a door, one that I kept athletic clothes behind. I pulled out a custom tailored tank top in dark blue that shows off my surprising curves and a pair of white spandex biker shorts. I prefer sparring barefooted as opposed to with shoes on. I don’t know why. My mother always says it’s because when your feet are bare, all of your chakras are aligned so your strength is restored. Whatever.
    Once I was dressed in my more comfortable outfit, all of my jewelry off, I walked back into my room and sat down at the glass desk, thinking. I opened a drawer, and pulled out a nanobug that hadn't yet been programmed and put in a piece of Mahar’s hair.
    “Target acquired.” A voice rang from the small helicopter as it flew off. I suspect it will arrive in Cairo early tomorrow morning.
    Next, I stretched.
    Salah would regret ever underestimating me.
     
    June 15 th 5:45 pm
    The Auburn Estate.
    “Stop gawking and choose your weapon.” I told Salah before we began sparring.
    He picked up a medium-length sword, weighed it in his hand, and held it up.
    “A sword? Really? You just set yourself up for a loss.” I smiled, walking over to the rack. I hefted my favorite sword, at least my favorite that I keep here, and looked at it. Black metal, thick hilt. Most importantly, the blade was longer than Salah’s. One basic rule of swordsmanship: the opponent with a longer blade has the upper hand. I now have the advantage of my skill and my sword.
    “Ready?” He asked with a smirk.
    “Always.” I replied.
    He lunged at me head on, an obvious move of someone who has little training. I respond by sidestepping and waiting for his next attack. This is simple, really. I would beat him in one move once he leaves his guard open.
    And in a moment, he does.
    He swing the flat of the blade sideways at me, but too low. He does not anticipate it when I jump over the blade and crack the hilt of my sword on his shoulder. Momentarily stunned, Salah did the expected and blindly swung in my direction. I smacked the flat of my blade on his side, leaving a burn, and then stood, a swords’ length away, with my blade at his neck.
    “How many times do I have to beat you for you to admit you need training?” I pondered aloud.
    “More than twice.” He responded seriously, “Again? No weapons.”
    “Fine. But know this: I can break every bone in your body without laying a hand on you.” I warned him.
    “I seriously doubt that. You’re powerful, but not that powerful.”
    “I guess