Witness Protection: Moving Target

by Jet MacLeod

  She poured a healthy amount of the red wine in the glass and then re-corked the bottle. She grabbed her glass and headed to the table in the living room area. She was grateful that it was next to the sliding glass patio door that went out to the deck overlooking the lake. It would give her a nice view while she tried to calm down and plan out dinner. She reached over to the couch and snatched her backpack. She rummaged through it until she found her laptop.

  She logged in and immediately started searching recipe sites. She had no clue what she was looking for, but she was determined to find it. She knew that she didn’t want to do anything with beef or chicken. All she had meat wise to work with was some pork tenderloin, pork chops, and some locally made sausage. If she could have bought some venison, she would have been ready to make anything. It was too bad that the FDA didn’t allow for the commercial selling of venison.

  She reached over and picked up her glass. She took a nice big sip and continued her search as she set it back on the table. She finally decided that she would work with the pork tenderloin. As she searched through the sites, she didn’t really notice that Angie had come out of her room and headed into the kitchen. She knew she was in there as soon as she heard the cabinets open. She didn’t turn around to see what Angie was doing, she just listened to her movements, memorizing the sound of her more.

  Angie poured herself a glass of wine, opting for the pint glass as well, and then joined Del at the table. She sat down with little fanfare. Del didn’t acknowledge her as she was working on the laptop. She hid the recipe sites und had pulled up maps of the area. She acted like she was studying them for escape purposes. The truth was that she had already done that at the diner the day before.

  “What are you doing?” Angie finally asked.

  “Making plans,” Del told her.

  “Plans for what?” Angie asked taking another drink of her wine.

  Del just turned to look her in the eye. Her whole train of thought was gone. She didn’t know what to say to her. There was just something about Angie that was beginning to unnerve her. She reached for her glass of wine to realize that it was empty. She stood up, grabbed her glass, and headed back into the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of wine and turned around. She then noticed that Angie has a glass as well. She decided to bring it back to the table. She sat back down, poured herself some more and then offered to top off Angie’s glass. Angie waved her off and gave her a look letting her know that she was still waiting on her answer. Del just smiled and took a sip of wine, still not answering.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “I would think than it was obvious, Angie. I always have to be ready to get you to safety. I don’t have the luxury of not being worried about your health and well fare. I have to be on the lookout and think that everyone is out to get you. I don’t have any other choice. It is how I stay alive and how I will keep you alive. I always make sure that I have more than one plan, too. People are smart. People who want you dead are even smarter. I always have to be one step ahead of them.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then, why did you ask me what the plans were for?”

  “I didn’t think that you would be that worried here. I mean we are in America’s heartland, the Bible Belt. Who would be assassin here?”

  “You would be surprised. Trust me on that. Cole is from a little town not far from here. It is so small though that you could blink and would have been through it, already. I am sure that his old friends and family that are still there would be heartily surprised to find out what he did for at living in the military.”

  “He is from around here?”

  “Yup, I would say about twenty or thirty miles. He was raised a good God fearing, Southern Gentleman, but the Army can screw up anyone. All they need is time and training, which is all we do and all we have in the military.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t really and that is a good thing. You haven’t been corrupted by the powers that be. You are still fighting for justice and liberty. There aren’t many that would still that after what we’ve been through. It kinda dampens your spirit and makes you look at things differently. You still have the ideals of a woman untouched by the real world. You don’t have the scars to prove that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness aren’t as God-given as we would hope. I do,” Del explained.

  “You outlook on life is so cynical. Why? What happened to you?”

  “Kiev happened to me. And, no, Angie, I am not going to tell you anymore than Cole did. I don’t want to remember it. I don’t need to remember it. I lived it. I almost died for it. And, I have plenty of scans to prove it. So, do me a favor, and don’t ask. Because, trust me when I say this, Princess: you really, really don’t want to know about the evils that I have seen and done. Got me?” Del asked, leaning towards her as she picked up her wine glass.

  She downed the rest of the wine in one gulp. She reached for the bottle and poured the rest into the pint glass. She took another drink and for the first time since she opened the bottle, allowed herself to enjoy its flavor. Angie just watched her wide-eyed, but even though her own curiosity was running rampant in her mind, she kept quiet as Del asked.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Not asking me anything about it. I know that you want to know, but it isn’t something that I am ready to share. I don’t know that I will ever be ready to share it, either.” Del told her.

  Del stood up quickly from the table. She grabbed the empty bottle of wine and headed back into the kitchen. Angie just watched her go. She eventually got up and followed Del into the kitchen. She sat at the small bar lop and just watched as Del moved around the kitchen.

  “You seem at home in the kitchen. I find that surprising. It doesn’t seem to jive with your particular skill set.”

  “My skill set?” Del questioned.

  “Yeah, as an assassin. Cooking doesn’t seem to be a high priority for that. Where did you learn to cook the way that you do?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Del answered with a slight laugh.

  “You’d be surprised what I would believe.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but this is even farfetched for me.”

  “Try me.”

  “I had an assignment once in France. It was a leisurely assignment, not something I was really used to doing. I had a lot of down time. So, I asked if I could get a job or something. I was surprised when the Alphabets told me ‘yes.’ I immediately started looking into schools and such. The Cordon Bleu was there. I took an exam and got in, which was amazing in itself. I didn’t have an appointment or any credentials that would have gotten me in.”

  “That is amazing. So, what are you doing? Are you making something amazing for dinner?”

  “That was the idea, yeah,” Del stated.

  She pulled the pork tenderloin out of the fridge and got ready to make a glaze for it. She turned around and preheated the oven to 350 degrees. She got out all the other ingredients. Angie just watched her move with ease around the kitchen.

  “You know what you should do when you retire?”

  “What?” Del asked with a passing curiosity as she continued to mix up a balsamic glaze.

  “You should become a chef,” Angie told her.

  “I don’t know that having that many knives around would be a good thing. You haven’t seen what I do when I get upset. It isn’t really that pretty.”

  “It was just an idea.”

  “I know that. It isn’t something that I have really thought about though. I am just looking for peace and quiet. I don’t know that I’ll ever find it with my memories, but it is still worth a shot.”

  Angie just watched as she continued to mix the oil and vinegar mixture. She was surprised when Del pulled out some red pepper flakes and some fresh rosemary. She was just in awe as Del freshly crushed the red pepper and then chopped up the rosemary before adding it to the mixture.

  “I hope you are hung
ry,” Del said in passing us she began to massage the glaze on the tenderloin.

  “Looking at that. Yes, I am very hungry. I can’t wait to try it.”

  “Well, you’ve got about an hour,” Del told her putting it in the oven.

  “An hour, huh? I wonder what trouble I could get into in an hour. I am sure a lot by the look you are giving me,” Angie teased her.

  “Please don’t,” Del stated as she turned around and started digging around in the fridge.

  “I am just trying to make conversation. I am sorry. You are easy to tease though. Maybe we should work on that and you not getting so upset by it,” Angie suggested.

  Del continued to rummage through the refrigerator. She wasn’t paying Angie any attention. She was focused making dinner. She knew that Angie was trying to be nice, but she wasn’t really in the mood. She wanted to cook and not think about what she was really doing. Somewhere in the back of her mind it was still plaguing her that she was protecting a target and for whatever reason, cooking calmed that thought process and allowed her to function almost in a normal manner.

  She put some greens, carrots, tomatoes, and peppers on the counter. She began looking for a knife and a cutting board. She found the cutting board first. When she turned and placed it on the counter, she saw that Angie was holding a knife, handle towards Del, out for her. Del just stared at her and wondered what she was actually thinking. She reached out and took the knife, giving Angie a slight smile.

  “You know that you can be friendly when you want to be, right?” Angie asked her.

  “If you say so. I’ve already told you that I don’t really deal with people well. I am trying.”

  “Well, you are succeeding. I am guessing that you are making a salad. Would you like me to help? I am capable of helping you without hurting myself. I have been cooking for myself for years. Or, did I do something against your tastes while we were at Cole’s place?” Angie asked.

  “No, what you made was fine. I am just used to doing it myself. I am not opposed to you helping, but like I said, I’ve been alone for so long that I just used to doing everything myself. You can help if you would like. Do you? Want to help that is?” Del asked her.

  “I would be happy to help you. What do you need me to do? I can handle the salad if you have something else that you want to work on. I know, can you make some sort of vinaigrette for the salad?”

  “I can,” Del answered with a genuine smile as she handed the knife and cutting board to Angie at the bar.

  She didn’t hand her the vegetables immediately. She washed them quickly in the sink and then gave them to Angie to cut up. Once she was satisfied with how Angie was cutting up the stuff for the salad, she started looking for some bowls in the cabinets, bowls to Angie for the salad.

  While she was on her search for bowls, she found the ingredients that she would need for the dressing. She sat them on the counter with the bowls. She handed the largest of the bowls to her. Then she found a whisk and began to make the vinaigrette. She used the balsamic vinegar and the olive oil as the base for it. She crushed up, mashed up, and cut up some spices that Angie couldn’t identify and put them in the bowl with the oil and vinegar mixture. She quickly whisked them together until everything was blended. She grabbed some plastic wrap and covered the bowl before putting it in the fridge to chill before dinner.

  Angie just watched her the entire time. She was unsure of what to say. It was just an awesome sight to see someone so deadly doing something so mundane as making dinner. It kind of took the edge of Del somehow and made her seem more human and not so rock hard. It was a nice and different side to her.

  It reminded Angie of the woman that she met on horseback at Cole’s place. She wasn’t the assassin. She was just a woman and she thought that woman and herself could be friends.

  Angie smiled at her. Del gave her a smile in return us she dug into the fridge again. She pulled out some asparagus and set it on the counter. She fished out a baking sheet and rubbed some butter on it, greasing it up. She turned the water on and felt the temperature. She plugged up the sink und waited for it to fill up to a certain height before she put the asparagus in the cool water. She then reached over to the knife block and took a knife. With quick hands and ease, she cut the ends off the asparagus and laid them out on the baking sheet. She glanced at the timer over the oven and did some mental calculations.

  She grabbed the cooking sheet with the asparagus on it and drizzled some olive oil over the top. She then flicked a little of the vinegar on it as well. When she was done, she went back to the fridge and pulled out some goat cheese. She opened and sampled it, smiling at the taste.

  “You do like asparagus, right?” Del asked, realizing that Angie might not like the vegetable in question.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Good,” she answered as she liberally sprinkled some of the cheese over the stocks of asparagus.

  When she was happy with the coatings and the cheese, she turned back around to the oven. She grabbed a spoon from only she knew where and opened the oven. She rearranged the tenderloin to a lower rack while she put the baking sheet in the oven on the top most rack. She then used the spoon to dip into the sauce surrounding the tenderloin and drizzled it over the top of it, basically spoon basting it. She made sure to cover the entire tenderloin with the sauce again before she shut the oven door.

  She glanced at the timer, turned around and smiled at Angie.

  “What?”

  “Twenty minutes,” Del told her, “How’s the salad coming?”

  “I’ve finished. I hope that it is to your liking. I would hate to be fired as your sous chef after my first attempt. I don’t like to fail.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Del slated.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Angie questioned, as she handed her back all the makings for the salad.

  “No, I never said that it was. I hate to fail, too. In my line of work, it could be more than just my life if I do. I’ve made sure that the target is eliminated no matter the cost to me. That is why I became the best. I guess. I no longer cared for my safety as long as I completed the mission.”

  “That is a dangerous way to live,” Angie replied.

  “It is. It was. It always will be, but without people like me willing to the dirty work, who will keep the so-called wolves at bay from our nation’s shores. It is a nasty mentality for a nasty job. I can understand why you don’t see yourself being able to do it. It isn’t something that is inherent for us as humans to have the want to destroy another’s life. It has to be learned and taught. Sometimes, even then, you can’t make the decision in the field. It is different for everyone. I learned all I could about my marks. It made it easier to pull the trigger when you knew what they had done. It is easy to use hate in that situation. It becomes a given. Over time, reasons become arbitrary,” Del explained to her.

  Dinner had been quiet and easy. They actually discussed things that didn’t seem trivial to either of them. For Angie’s part, she stirred clear of Kiev and for Del’s, she didn’t push too much about what drove Angie to take on the cartels to begin with. They seemed to be getting along better and at ease with each other for once. For Del it was an exercise in domesticity. She found herself smiling more in Angie’s presence and she didn’t seem as on edge.

  She was sitting out on the deck when Angie joined with an after dinner cup of coffee. She took the cup of coffee that Angie offered her and watched as she sat down beside her. There was a calm around them that Del noticed as she slowly sipped her coffee.

  “It is nice here,” Angie slated breaking the silence.

  “It is.”

  “I can see why you picked it.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, you said that Cole was from here. He must have talked about it. When we started driving, you probably didn’t even think about it and just headed here. It doesn’t matter the reason. It is nice and quiet. I think that I have missed this more than I want to admit,” Angie told her.

 
“Missed the quiet? Somehow I doubt that. You are too much of a city girl to handle the country for long periods of time. I think that you are too used to the hustle and bustle to stay still long.”

  “It is a little, but my parents have a house at Cape Cod. When Daddy needed a break that is where we went. I liked going there, but it was a vacation. We never stayed longer than two weeks. I think that Daddy missed the City and court too much. Mother never really seemed to care, too much.”

  “You miss them don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. It has been hard, but I know that they were proud of me. It is something that keeps me going. I want to continue to keep them proud of me. I guess that is what drives me sometimes. I think about Daddy and the cases that he tried and I want to make sure that I still make the name March synonymous with justice, you know? I became a lawyer because he was and I wanted to be like him.”

  “I am sure that he is proud of you. Angie. I’ve seen your record. It is very impressive. I am surprised that this is the first time that you have been in protection. With your record, I am surprised that you haven’t had more death threats levied against you,” Del told her.

  “I’ve had my fair share. This has to be the worst though. Usually, we finish the trial, they were put in prison, and I am warned when they go up for parole. None of those cases have been released though. Unfortunately for the cases I try, they don’t last too long in prison. They are the lowest on the prison hierarchy,” Angie explained.

  “I guess that is fortunate for you, though.”

  “I guess so. I try not to think about it too much. I am just trying to help the people who have been victimized and get the scum off the street. There are times that I don’t want to prosecute because of the conditions concerning the case, but I can’t pick and choose the laws I want to uphold and try. I have to give each case my all, regardless of my feelings. It is hard, but rewarding work. At least, I can sleep at night, well most nights after I get a conviction. There have been a few that kept me up, though.”