Vesta's Point of View.
With the police pressuring us to surrender, Fada proposed a vacation—a temporary escape from the country.
His strict instruction was that no training of any kind at whatever place we choose to have our vacations. He was fearing that any display of our skills would reveal our identities to any watching eyes.
My sisters left home, each going her own way, except for Swiss and me. We found ourselves heading to the same destination: Australia.
It was Swiss's choice, and I agreed instantly.
Fada had provided us with enough funds. Our time there was a carefree blur of cinema outings and restaurant meals.
We developed a particular fondness for an Australian dish, "Vegemite with fried eggs," ordering it repeatedly. While we sampled local cuisine, nothing compared to the thrill of actually touching a kangaroo—an unforgettable experience.
Mother, ever concerned, especially for Swiss as the "youngest" (though all others except me were all the same age, and Swiss was born in a later month, judging by the birth certificates), personally inquired about our trip. Her bond with Swiss was unique, and she wanted to ensure her well-being.
One sunny afternoon at the beach, clad in bikinis, I noticed an unfamiliar mark on Swiss's wrist. When I asked her about it, she seemed to genuinely don't know how she got the scar. She said it had been there as long as she could remember.
She said she had often wondered about its origin but had no answers, because the scar had been there for long. Growing up without parents, there was no one to explain it, so the mystery had simply faded into the background.
Our Australian adventure was memorable. Every experience was delightful, and I found myself wishing Fada would grant us more such time out.
Ace's Point of View.
Fada declared a mandatory break, a departure from our usual lives.
The truly exceptional part of this enforced vacation was his absolute prohibition on anything related to our work. Mandating us to not engage in any training of any sort.
For the first time since I could remember, training and mission planning vanished from my thoughts.
Brazil became my unexpected destination. My family was surprised by my choice. Oscar even questioned my reasoning, but honestly, I just felt a pull towards South America. Just feels like going there for no reason.
Brazil carried away with the rhythm of soccer. It seemed every street corner hosted a match. Not a single day of my two-week stay passed without me joining a game. There were separate matches for men and women, as well as mixed teams. The stakes were often monetary, adding an extra layer of competition. They were always eager for me to play.
By early afternoon, around three, they would be in my motel calling, urging me to join the next match. Despite my lack of skill, my enthusiasm earned me many friends. Of course, the generous amount of money Fada had given me also made me a popular teammate.
My team wasn't terrible, but losses were frequent, and my bets kept mounting. Little did they know I was a keen observer. Their hushed conversations in their local dialect, undoubtedly about sharing my winnings, didn't escape my notice.
But I didn't care; I was simply enjoying the experience.
Being a lover of good food, one of my first acts in Brazil was to hire a local woman to cook for me at the motel. It was a truly relaxing and enjoyable break.
Oscar's Point of View.
My break took me far—to the southern tip of Africa. Cape Town, South Africa, became my temporary haven.
A beautiful city with breathtaking ocean views.
There, I met a fellow vacationer, a Scotsman. His English was often a delightful puzzle. Most of our conversations involved me nodding and offering a polite, even though I often fake a clueless smile.
Yet, he became a constant companion during my stay.
He developed a clear interest in me, expressing a desire for a relationship.
Relationship? The concept felt foreign, a remembrance of the pain I endured at the orphanage for a similar innocent connection.
Miles. His name still echoes in my memory. At nine, he was the boy who captured my young heart. I always sneak from the girls' dormitory to the boys' in the dead of night just to be near him.
We were just children; something like intimacy, or touching each other never happened. We simply craved each other's presence.
The memory of the brutal beating we received that dawn when I overslept and the nuns found me in the boys' dormitory, remains vivid.
The Scottish man stirred something within me, a faint echo of those long-suppressed feelings. Yet, I offered him no encouragement, no reciprocation.
Fada had instilled in us a focus solely on our family bonds, leaving no room for romantic attachments due to our jobs. Perhaps this was a topic I needed to broach with mother when I got back home.
But when I did get back home, it was Mince that welcomed me with her own experience.
"At the orphanage, a friend often spoke with longing about the Philippines, her descriptions painted a vivid picture, and the desire to visit that island nation in Oceania took root in my mind". She said as she gave me a summary of how she had long wanted to be in the Philippines. So, when Fada announced our break, the Philippines was the first place she thought of.
Life there seemed to revolve around the sea. According to her.
Most of the locals were fishermen and women. She eagerly joined them, spending her days not just fishing, but harvesting all manner of sea creatures.
In the evenings, the family she stayed with prepared lavish seafood feasts, always accompanied by fresh vegetables. "I never tired of these meals, happily accepting dish after dish. My own funds remained untouched, as they generously provided for me". She said.
And when she was about to leave, in return for their hospitality, she left them a parting gift of several thousand dollars.