by Randy Dutton
“I put a few hundreds of thousands in scattered accounts in Monaco, South Africa, Cyprus, and other countries I don’t expect to revisit.”
“Why?”
“Misdirection...so they waste assets watching them.”
“Your skills and tactics astound me.” He pointed to a dust devil swirling through the scrub. “Look to our right.”
Glancing out the window at the still golden prairie, her smile faded at a light grayish-green vortex moving through the pasture.
“Guess we’re going to see more of those,” he said excitedly. “The slightest breeze picks up the Fuzz threads.”
She looked closer and pursed her lips. Like the ever-present tumbleweeds, long Fuzz strands clung to the pasture’s barbed wire fences. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned to him. “Pete...let’s ignore the plagues during our honeymoon...okay?”
“But we’re likely to see—”
“Honey...please? I don’t want a constant reminder of how I screwed up.”
“But it’s not your—”
Shhhhh. Her index finger touched his lips. “We were discussing hackers.... Anyone can acquire the ability to hack. Knowing what to look for and how to use the information separates professionals from amateurs. Swanson hired me halfway through my Harvard law degree.”
“Why, specifically?”
“For my analytical adroitness...that, and my situational morality”—she blinked to shake off the retrospection—“which changed when you came into my life.”
“How’d you first meet him anyway? You were a law student. It’s not as if you were in the same social circles.”
A crooked smile formed. “Through Gabriel.” She pressed a few keys on the tablet and held up a photo.
“Who’s he?”
“A former CIA dark arts guy, about 20 years older, married, five kids, tall but heavy. Brilliant and knows my past better than anyone.” She closed the picture.
“You had a confidant?”
“Kind of. Years ago, Swanson asked him to scout for talent. Some Harvard Law Review articles I wrote caught his attention.”
“The ones advocating environmental justice over equal justice? And the ‘Law of Man’ over the ‘Rule of Law’?”
“Yes, among others.... Pete, I was morally naïve. I believed the end justified the means, and the Agenda 21 cabal was seizing power for the good of humanity – not that I cared much for people. Gabriel found me in my somewhat compromising profession despite my disguises.”
“How, exactly, did he do that?”
Anna let out a deep breath. “Swanson hired him to blackmail a financial competitor, who happened to be....” She hesitated, cocked her head slightly and looked into his eyes. Her voice was soft. “Pete? You sure you want me to continue this?”
“Look, you’re not what you used to be.” He was resolute. “You made choices based upon your morality and needs formed by an evil inflicted upon you when you were just a kid.”
“I’ve been using that victim excuse to justify my actions ever since.... I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I became an intra-species predator—”
“A what?”
“A person using manipulation, intimidation, sex, and violence to control others...and now I’m paying the price.”
“Well I think some of your youthful idealism has returned. You’ve proven that you have the moral courage to challenge the worst of society and your former associates. I’m uncomfortable talking about how you paid for college and what you did afterward, but I accept it as part of your past.”
“All of it, Pete? How can you say that when you don’t even know most of what I’ve done?!”
“Well then, resolve that by telling me everything,” Pete said hopefully. He waved at the desolate countryside. “We have the time.”
Her head shook. “Guess I opened up myself for that one.... No, I can’t, Honey. There’re some pretty damning things in my résumé.”
He gently squeezed her leg. “I can handle it. We’ve both worked towards redemption. My past hasn’t been easy to defend either.”
“Like beating that guy who sexually assaulted MacKenzie?”
“Yeah, I nearly killed him, as you nearly did to the Marine who attacked you.”
She gently rubbed the faint scar on her left wrist. “That’s not quite accurate. Without an avenging angel to help me, I turned cold and calculating. I made sure he’d live. By castrating him, I made sure he’d suffer for life...and so other girls might be saved my fate. His broken arms and ribs weren’t life threatening. Those were meant to put him in the hospital for a month...so he could...reflect.”
“How big was he?”
“Muscular, about 205 pounds, six one. Several tattoos...one altered during the—“
“Incident?”
“Yeah...incident.” She grinned.
“Altered how?”
She looked down in mock embarrassment. “I tattooed ‘RAPIST’ on his chest while he was unconscious.”
“Ouch! Talk about sending a message!”
“And in bold, black letters so it’ll last longer.”
“You didn’t worry he’d call the MPs?”
“I maced his eyes at the onset, wrapped duct tape around his eyes and ears, tied him down, and kept quiet while I did my work. What’s he going to say? Two years ago I tied down and repeatedly raped my tech sergeant’s 15-year-old daughter and I think she did this? No. I made sure the bastard couldn’t identify me.”
“Well, in some of my Iraqi firefights, no matter how much we tried to prevent it, innocent people died because they were too close to the action.”
“Did losing your leg change your perspective?”
“Uh huh. I started questioning my decisions. But being surrounded by family during my recovery helped a lot.”
“We were both a little broken by our past. We’re well-suited, Honey.”
Pete’s hand settled on her leg. “What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”
“Isn’t that the truth! Anyway, this financier was one of my regular clients.”
Pete grimaced at the term and she squeezed his arm in reassurance.
“Gabriel followed him to a rendezvous with me, then co-opted me to set up the guy. The money Gabriel offered was irresistible, and afterward, he and I talked about my new possible career. Swanson would cover my Harvard education and living expenses, with money for extras. He wanted me to get used to high fashion and an exquisite lifestyle. Really hooked me, too.” She chuckled. “No pun intended.”
“What was it about the lifestyle that most attracted you?”
Her eyes dreamily looked upward. “Being elite...and getting the best of everything. Shunting to the front of every line...men stumbling over themselves to accommodate me...gifts from admirers...invites to all the galas and fashion shows. It fed my ego. Even jealous glares from women thrilled me.”
“Why would you want their jealousy?”
“Because it proved I could put on a charm offensive they couldn’t rival. Darling, haven’t you realized I can be a bit...catty?”
“The only women I’ve seen you around are my family, oh, and Starr. And you were uncharacteristically quiet that night.”
“Well, don’t worry. I usually contain my baser instincts. Part of it was an act.”
“Why would—” He hesitated.
“Bitchiness be intentional?” Her brow lifted.
“I was struggling for another word, like...scrappy.”
She cocked her head. “Manipulative, immoral, vindictive...psychotic.... I’ve heard them all, mostly from women and a few scorned men.... It established me as a brand, a business of sorts. I purposely developed a reputation as a force to be reckoned with...and became known as the woman with audacious leadership who could organize nearly anything.”
“Someone not to be ignored.”
“Or trifled with. Beauty is fleeting, and brains...not entirely rare. Combined, they’re extremely
valuable but often overlooked. Now spice it with attitude, and you’re the first one people consider when they need something done. Men respected me”—she dipped her head but kept her eyes on his—“feared me a bit.”
“Our file on you got the beauty and brains...missed that last part.”
She brushed his arm. “Lucky for me you didn’t know you’d fallen for a shrew. Otherwise, you might not have stalked me in the middle of the night,” she said facetiously.
“Darling, I’ve found you to be quite the opposite.”
A brow lifted. “Really? How would you describe me?”
With tongue-in-cheek, he considered his response. “Complicated.”
“You’ll need to give more than that.”
“Okay...frequently intimate, sometimes aloof...self-deprecating yet proud...Always circumspect. Brilliant and with an acute wit.”
She nodded proudly. “Fair assessment.”
“What happened to the financier?”
Her eyes lowered. “He was ruined financially.... Let’s not talk about him. We were discussing Gabriel...a good spy in his day, but quit the Agency early.”
“Why’d he leave?”
“He, ah, liked to gamble and government pay wasn’t enough to cover his considerable debts, so he went freelance. Swanson paid him to teach me spycraft and tutor me in various other skills and languages.” She became more animated. “He was also my gadget guy.”
“The guy who supplied your lethal toys?”
“Among other things. He was good with fake identifications, and nearly all weapons and electronics. In fact, he made the coins.”
“So when Swanson’s coin went dark, it was Gabriel’s doing?”
She nodded with a gleam in her eye. “I usually called him Gadget.”
“Like Inspector Gadget?”
“Uh huh! Anyway, most importantly, he helped hone my tactics. Sometimes I’d talk over a mission with him before or afterward. He had contacts in US military and European advanced weaponry laboratories.”
“Did you tell him about your Maldives mission?”
Again she nodded. “He knows I blew up the boat and framed your dad, but nothing past that.”
“So you trust him?”
With pursed lips her head shook slowly. “Not exactly. Gadget’s selfish...like me.”
Pete’s eyebrow lifted.
“Okay, like I was...still am, I suppose.” She chuckled, then added matter-of-factly, “If he’s threatened, he’ll do whatever’s necessary to save his skin or his family, including sacrificing me.”
“So why tell him anything?”
“Oh, he already knew enough about my past decade of misdeeds. What was a little more malfeasance? Besides, in controlling what I told him, I could misdirect him if need be. I didn’t tell him the specifics behind the organized hacking, nor anything about my Eurécom site, nor of the money I skimmed off Swanson. I suppose”—she became wistful—“I sought Gadget’s approval. He’s like a favorite uncle who often reviewed my plans or after action reports and pointed out alternatives.”
“Sounds like a great sounding board.”
“Yes. But in retrospect, he also enabled my behavior...maybe because he was proud...maybe because he made a fortune as my supplier.”
“Probably best he and I not meet.”
“Probably not,” she mused. “Even though I miss him, I don’t want him to even know about us.”
“When was the last time you two spoke?”
“Not since late June, before you confronted me at the villa.”
“Some confrontation! And why are you smiling? Because you caught me in your high-tech trap?”
“Yes, you’re right”—she chuckled—“it wasn’t a fair fight.”
“I wasn’t there to fight, just to surveil.”
“You didn’t study your target very well. No one intrudes on my home turf without me noticing.”
“Life with you is going to be v-e-r-y interesting.” Their eyes locked. “You like to fight, don’t you?”
“I’m good at it...and yes”—her head tipped up proudly—“it gives me a rush to beat an opponent.”
“Do you ever consider me an opponent?”
“Sometimes.... Academically and when we spar.”
“You don’t need to compete with me.”
“I know, but it’s in my nature.... Deal with it,” she added sweetly.
“I’m glad that night was only a battle of wits and not weapons—I was unarmed. Lucky for me you were in a good mood.”
Her brow narrowed. “Good mood?”
“You were dressed as Catwoman in that sexy, black leather, form-hugging outfit. Weren’t you going to a costume party?”
She bit her lower lip and looked down to consider a response. “Honey, perhaps you should pull into the slow lane for a bit.”
Pete did as she requested.
She continued. “I guess...since we’re married...and you’ve pledged your undying devotion to me come hell and high water...I can tell you the reality.”
His eyes narrowed. “Which is?”
She stiffened and looked at him. “You misjudged the situation. Remember the next morning when you warned me that your investigation had a lead on one of the yacht’s crewmen who helped me blow up Hassan’s powerboat?”
“Yes. We had an artist sketch of him.”
“Your interruption saved Marv’s life. I wasn’t going to a party that night...and I wasn’t dressed as Catwoman. I thought my heavy makeup”—she rolled her shoulders back and down, cupped and pushed her breasts together—“voluptuous enhancements, and long black wig might have clued you in.”
“You were—” he started slowly.
“Yes, dressed as a prostitute.... And I was about to leave for the bar he hung at—he was a loose end.”
“I see.... So, maybe I’m lucky to be alive.”
She nodded. “Actually, you are. Your participation in the investigation revealed I’d been sloppy, and your Marine recon skills proved my villa’s perimeter could be compromised. Had I not recognized you from your photo, I’d have slit your throat while you were in that electronic stun net and then dumped your body.”
“So there I was, trussed up in your basement like a slab of meat because I inactivated your sensors?”
“I needed to interrogate you to learn what I’d done wrong.... Don’t be a wuss. I cut you down after a couple hours,” she said sarcastically.
“Why’d you trust me to sleep in your spare bedroom?”
“I was charmed by your idealism and...chutzpah.” She leaned over kissed him on the cheek. “Besides...I had read your dossier. You didn’t present a physical threat, and if you had disappeared, your dad would have sent an army.”
He nodded. “That he would have.”
Her head cocked. “You took my news rather calmly...why?”
He focused on the semi in front while forming an answer. Sensing her eyes drilling into him, he turned to her. “Like you, I read a lot. Your dossier showed you were dangerous...like a Ludlum or Vince Flynn character. I knew you executed the bombing professionally and seemingly on the fly. You nearly got away with it, too. Then I extrapolated that for the ten years you worked for Swanson, he’d had you do similar things. It added up to a heavy body count, none for which you’d ever been investigated. So I figured you didn’t kill indiscriminately.... And once you knew others would follow me, you wouldn’t take the risk.”
“I hate being predictable.” Her head slowly shook. “Guess it really was time to retire....”
Her voice livened. “On the bright side, I found happiness with you that had evaded me through a decade of glitz and glamor. And, as a consequence, your morality rubbed off”—she held her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart—“at least a little bit. Now, I’m one of the good guys.” Her natural smile returned and she leaned back into her seat.
“And?” He was grinning.
She looked straight ahead and smiled wider. Rubbing her toned stomach, she added, �
��Oh, right, and I’m pregnant. That shows I don’t always plan the future.”
Pete gulped uncomfortably. “That brings up a delicate subject...your pregnancy.”
Her smile turned wry. “So much like a man! How do I know the baby’s yours after just one night of passion? And why wasn’t I on the pill? I’ve been wondering when you’d ask that. Honey, considering my history, you’re very trusting...quite my opposite. I was amazed you still wanted to marry me, even not knowing for sure...without even asking.”
“I’ve been told that I’m too trusting.”
“Well, let me allay your concern, Sweetie. The last couple years, I’ve been incredibly busy, and not nearly as sexually active as you might presume. Mostly I’ve had a”—she cleared her throat—“noncommittal relationship with an older man who doesn’t want, and made sure he can’t have, more children. It made life simpler and I went off the pill.”
“Will you tell me who—“
“Nope! But later if you want to do a paternity test...feel free.”
Pete smiled. “Not necessary.... So Babe, on a lighter topic, we’re driving west by northwest now, where to first?”
Her feet went back up on the dash as she looked at the tablet’s map. “Let’s get a Rocky Mountain high.” She touched the display and an aerial photo enlarged. “There’s a little town at Rocky Mountain National Park’s south entrance called Grand Lake. It looks adorable. I feel like a hike.”
“To the high mountains then.”
“It’s time for music.” She flipped her iPod—hooked to the SUV’s entertainment system—to Rondó Veneziano, and leaned back. Scaramucce flooded the interior.
Pete’s smile widened. “You were right when you said the more I heard that album, the more I’d love it. Now, it always reminds me of our wedding night.”
Her eyes closed. The only lines on her face were at the corners of her upturned smile. Her head slightly dipped to the beat. “Someday I’d like you to hear them in concert in Venice. It’s like being in a glorious dream.”
“That is, if we can ever show our faces in public.”
Her eyes opened and shifted left, the corners of her mouth turned down. “Killjoy.... Remember, while your face is unknown to them, me they’ll kill on sight...or worse.”
“What could be worse?” He showed confusion.