"Fine, it was Awesome," I conceded, a resigned feeling washing over me. Her moods are too jumpy.
"Before marrying Danny's father, I was Heather Duncan, and my father was a very rich man. Because of which, I was kidnapped twice when I was young. Worried about my safety, he contacted some people from the army to train me in self-defense. I later learned that my instructor was a former SSR agent, and she never really retired. I also trained with Wendell after I married him," Heather Rand recounted, a wistful look entering her eyes as she recalled the past.
"What about the wolves then? How did you lose to them so badly if you could fight that well?" I questioned, the inconsistency bothering me.
"Simple, because I was tired. The plane I was on had just crashed, and I traveled for about eight hours in the snowy mountains, sometimes carrying Danny. After stalling the wolves from going after him for half an hour, I had no energy left," Heather Rand explained.
"I see, that makes sense." Yeah, that would leave you drained.
"No, wait a second," I said, a new thought striking me. "I never questioned this before, but how did you survive the plane crash after being thrown out of the plane? Danny never told me because he doesn't remember."
"I had a parachute. When the engine blasted off before our plane broke into pieces, I grabbed Danny and a parachute," Heather Rand explained. "I wanted to get to Wendell, but unfortunately, the plane started to fall apart mid-air, causing us to be flung out," she continued, a note of disappointment in her voice.
I wanted to ask more questions, but I was stopped by the insistent ring of the telephone. I picked up the phone, and Grandfather swiftly gave me the next set of instructions. For now, I needed to reach a border town in Nepal called Siddharthanagar and call him back for the rest of the arrangements.
After I hung up, I turned to Aunt Heather and said, "We will have to look for a driver to take us to Siddharthanagar, a border town."
"Then let's go," Heather Rand replied, already moving.
After paying the phone booth owner, we set off.
"By the way, what was the name of the person from SSR that trained you?" I asked, as I made small talk.
"I remember she was called Margaret Carter. My father respected her very much," Aunt Heather answered, her gaze distant as she seemed to drift into past memories.
"I seem to have heard that name before," I muttered under my breath, trying to grasp the elusive connection. Doesn't that name sounds like the belonging to the lady Steve was always moping about?
"No way!!" I exclaimed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. It can' be that much of a coincidence!?
We quickly hailed a cab, letting it whisk us away from the immediate town and deeper into the landscape towards Pokhara City. There, after a much-needed lunch, we arranged for a driver to take us further to Siddharthanagar. I called Grandpa one last time before we departed, confirming our route.
The seven-hour drive to Siddharthanagar was long, broken only by a few essential stops for stretching and quick refreshments. When we finally pulled into the border town, a sense of quiet relief settled over me. My first priority was finding a public phone booth to call Grandpa, but he promptly asked me to switch to a video call. With Aunt Heather trailing, I located a local cyber cafe, connected with him on Skype, and finally introduced her.
"Hi, Grandpa! Can you hear me?" I asked, my voice slightly strained by the connection.
"Yes, now tell me about the companion you have with you," he replied, his gaze sharp on the screen.
"Yes," I said, motioning for Aunt Heather to step into the camera's view. As she appeared, Grandpa's eyebrows rose slightly.
"So, who is she?" he inquired.
"She is the mother of a friend of mine, and I had to come here to save her," I explained.
"If that is so, why didn't you ask for help?" David Angelo questioned, a hint of concern in his voice.
"It's a long story with the conclusion that - I had no time and it slipped my mind," I replied, simplifying the chaotic truth.
"Fine, so what do you want to do?" Grandpa said, a touch of resignation in his tone.
"I want to get her a new identity to travel," I stated plainly.
"Fine, what's her name?" David Angelo asked, already sounding as if he were contemplating solutions.
"Heather Rand."
"Rand? Where have I heard that surname?" Grandpa mused aloud.
"My father is Thomas Duncan, and my husband is Wendell Rand," Aunt Heather interjected, providing the necessary context.
"Ah! I remember now, Chet, the shipping company!" he exclaimed, a slight ire creeping into his voice.
"Do you have a problem with Rand Industries?" I asked, sensing an underlying tension.
"Nothing you should concern yourselves with," he replied, his voice laced with annoyance.
"Okay(?)," I muttered, deciding not to press the issue for now.
"So what troubles you is her identity?" David Angelo clarified, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.
"Yeah, she has slight trouble with her previous identity and needs a new one," I confirmed.
"I get it. I will have a friend issue you provisional documents for crossing the border using your passport, and then when you get to the country, we will have a proper set of documents made for her," David Angelo assured me.
"Yes, how will I contact you?" I asked, thinking about the lack of service earlier.
"You don't have your mobile phone with you?" he asked, as if I were stating the obvious.
"Yes, but I checked it before, it didn't have any service," I defended myself.
"Use your Indian SIM card; it will work in Siddharthanagar as it is close to the border and has some service," David Angelo explained.
"Yes, I will do that," I promised.
The next day, after a leisurely breakfast, Grandpa called me. He instructed me to visit the Bhairahawa customs office with my documents to collect the provisional papers for Aunt Rand and our bus tickets to Gorakhpur.
During our journey, I learned that Aunt Heather was a remarkable linguist, well-versed in English, French, Spanish, Japanese, and Old Greek.