CL Hart -From A Distance

by CL Hart

  Kenzie attempted a smile. "It's okay. I deserved it." There was an awkward moment of silence between them, something Kenzie was unaccustomed to. She struggled for something positive to say. "I've been pretty tough on you. I mean it's not like you're used to being shot at." Her smile this time was genuine, but Cori didn't smile in return.

  "Are you?" Cori asked as she let go of Kenzie's face. "Used to being shot at, I mean."

  "Actually...no. I'm usually on the other end of the gun...long gone by the time the chaos and panic set in." Kenzie pulled away from Cori's touch and rose from the sofa. She walked over to Big Polly's desk and looked over the phones still scattered on its surface.

  "So do you do everything from far away?"

  Kenzie kept her eyes on the desk and her thoughts to herself.

  Rising from the sofa, Cori walked up behind Kenzie and turned her around. "From what I've gathered, you've lived your life from a distance, and that's not living, Kenzie that's existing There's a whole world out there, and not all of it is filled with guns and wars...and dying." She took both of Kenzie's hands into her own. "There are millions of people working and playing, making love, having babies, going to restaurants and movies, enjoying their lives the best way they know how."

  Kenzie's demeanor grew serious as she looked into the innocence of the woman before her, "And those people are living in denial, Con. They no more control their lives than you or I do Governments and corporations make the decisions on how this world will evolve. Their greed for power and money make this world go around. Those that want it will do anything to get it and those that have it will do anything to keep it. Make no mistake - the rest of us are just pawns on a chessboard."

  "I don't agree with you," Cori said, shaking her head.

  "Then you're naive." Kenzie studied her face for a moment. "Life is just a sexually transmitted disease and I hate to tell you this, but it's always fatal. No one gets out alive."

  The sting of the comment splashed across Cori face and Kenzie drew back. She had not meant to hurt her again, but she knew she had. Cori tried to pull her hands from Kenzie's grasp but the stronger woman refused to let go.

  There was a quick knock and the door opened. Big Polly entered with a stack of towels and clothing. Looking at their close proximity, he knew he had interrupted something again "Sorry but I ah..." He cleared his throat. "There's a bus leaving for the Tijuana Artisan Market in three hours and you need to be on it Get in there, get cleaned up and changed." He placed his bundle on the edge of the sofa.

  The phone in Kenzie's pocket buzzed. She reluctantly released her hold on Cori's hands, reached into her pocket for the phone and flipped it open. "Yes."

  "Katherine?"

  The voice on the other end of the phone was loud enough for Corito hear as she watched Kenzie's strong features relax. Katherine?

  "Judge," she answered with a sigh as she closed her eves "I think I need your help."

  Far away in Seattle, the judge pulled his chair up to his desk. "Whatever you need or whatever I can do, all you need to do is ask," he said as he reached for a pen. "Where are you?"

  "Is your line secure?" Kenzie asked.

  "I'm a judge in a federal court building. I sure as hell hope so."

  "Yeah, me too. Look...I've run into some trouble."

  "I gathered that much or we wouldn't be talking."

  "The assignment I was on, well, something went wrong... very wrong."

  "Are you okay?"

  The concern came right through the phone and it caused Kenzie to smile. She looked down over her battered and bruised body and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

  "What do you need, Katherine?"

  "A couple of things. First, my extraction team never showed up and I need to know why."

  "Okay. I'm not sure what I can find out about that, but I'll try. What else?"

  "I want to know who ordered the hit."

  "Then I'll need the name."

  "Cori Evans," she said, spelling it out for him. "I also want to know who was in charge of the operation. I need to talk to somebody and I have no idea who I can trust."

  "Have you talked to your commanding officer?"

  "He was the one who sent me, and since someone also sent a back up, I have no choice but to suspect him. At the very least, I don't trust him, not with my life."

  Judge Woodward pursed his lips as he wrote a couple of words down on the pad in front of him. "I'll see what I can do. Can I call you back on this number?"

  Kenzie paused for moment, calculating the risks in her mind. "Yeah, but I hope to be on the Helen by this evening." She looked over at Cori who was watching her in return. "And Judge, please be careful."

  "If you will promise to do the same, my dear."

  The room in the back of Big Polly's office was similar to a cheap motel room. There was a bed with a small table, and a bathroom, which consisted of a shower, sink, and a toilet. Cori went into the shower first, and nothing had felt better to her in a long time. The water was hot and she savored the feel of it as she washed the dust and dirt of Mexico down the drain. A short while later, a smiling Cori emerged from the bathroom wrapped only in a towel.

  "It's all yours," she said to Kenzie, who was sprawled out on the bed. There was no movement, so she took a few steps closer as she rubbed her wet hair with a towel. "Kenzie?" She watched the still form, sleeping peacefully, hesitant to wake her. Cori had had her opportunities to sleep - in the car, on the ferry, on the fishing boat, and on the plane - but the only time Kenzie had really closed her eyes since they'd met was when she passed out after Cori and Manny relocated her shoulder. She would have liked nothing more than to let her sleep, but she knew they were on a schedule, and that meant they had to be leaving soon.

  Moving closer to the bed, Cori sat down carefully on the edge. Making the assumption that startling someone with Kenzie's training would not be a wise idea, Cori called to her softly, "Kenzie?" There was no sign of her waking, only the steady rise and fall of her chest. Cori reached out, but stopped with her hand just above Kenzie's arm. What was it that the judge called her? Katherine. The name sounded funny and didn't really seem to suit the sleeping woman, but Cori tried it anyhow. "Katherine?" This time she gently placed a hand on her arm as she called out to her. "Jesus, you're warm."

  Eyes the color of gold opened slowly. She didn't lurch awake with fists at the ready and a gun in her hand, instead, she studied Cori's face for a moment and then smiled. "Hi."

  "You fell asleep," Cori said, returning the smile.

  Looking around the room, Kenzie didn't have to recall where they were or why. "Guess I did." Her gaze returned to the towel-clad blonde. "My turn?"

  Cori nodded and started to rise, then stopped. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure." Kenzie smiled as she leaned back against the headboard.

  "I'm serious."

  "So am I. Ask away."

  "What's your real name? I mean the judge called you Katherine, and that doesn't sound anything like Kenzie."

  "That's really what you wanted to ask me?"

  "Yeah."

  Kenzie shook her head, "Of all the things I thought you might want to ask, that wasn't one of them. My first name is Katherine, but no one calls me that except for the judge. Everyone calls me Kenzie, which is short for Mackenzie. Feel better now?"

  "Yeah, I guess. Thanks."

  Cori started to rise, but stopped when Kenzie laid a hand on her arm. "Just wait a sec," Kenzie requested. "There's something I have to say. I'm sorry about earlier."

  Cori studied her face for a moment and then looked directly into her sleepy eyes, "About what - the kiss or the comment?" She could only hope it was the latter.

  "I am not sorry about the kiss. I'm sorry," Kenzie paused, "I'm sorry that I called you naive. That wasn't right and it wasn't fair." Cori started to look away but Kenzie wouldn't let her. "Hey." She sat up straighter in bed and pulled Cori closer. "I mean it, that wasn't my intention." She brushed a wisp of hair back fro
m Cori's face, tucking it behind her ear. "I didn't mean to hurt you...and I did. I promise I'll never hurt you again... You have my word."

  Cori had no idea what to say, or how to say it, but the promise gave her a warm feeling of security as she reached out to touch Kenzie's face.

  "I promise," Kenzie said as she leaned into Cori's caress, "we'll figure this out. Once we get to my boat in San Diego, I have the resources to keep you safe. I'll protect you with every ounce of my being." She placed her hand on top of Cori's. "No one will ever hurt you again."

  Nobody had ever made her a promise like that before, at least not anyone with the ability to back it up. However, the promises seemed like impractical pledges, even for Kenzie. They didn't know who they were running from, or why, so how could she keep them safe? Cori considered Kenzie's words as she studied her unique eyes.

  "You can't make that guarantee, Kenzie. I wish you could, but we both know you can't." Cori offered a smile, but her uncertainty affected its sincerity. Turning away from Kenzie's searching stare, Cori tried to hide her frazzled nerves. In the last several days, the quiet life Cori had been leading had exploded in an eruption of violence. It had shaken her to the very core of her being. She was scared and had been for what seemed like forever. Her eyes began to mist over and her lips quivered as she twisted the damp towel in her hands.

  "Hey...hey." Kenzie saw the breakdown coming right before her eyes and she moved to get closer to Cori, but the young woman didn't want to be coddled.

  Rising from the bed, Cori moved to the table and dropped the towel that she'd been using to dry her hair. Resting her hands on the back of the chair, she fought her growing fear. Kenzie's hand touched her bare shoulder and the dam holding back her emotions crumbled.

  Kenzie felt the first shudder of a sob before she heard it. She turned Cori around and engulfed her in a hug. Cori collapsed into the warm embrace as she finally started to cry.

  "It's okay, let it go," Kenzie whispered into her ear as she stroked her honey-colored hair. "Let it go." Cori was nearly naked, and her soft, clean skin was cool to the touch. Kenzie rested her cheek against her damp hair.

  Cori buried her face against Kenzie's shoulder, letting go of the fear and anxiety that had been steadily growing inside her for days. The arms around her felt strong and safe, and they brought comfort to her. Kenzie's body was feverishly warm, but for just a moment, Cori indulged her own needs.

  The sobs slowly began to subside, but the sniffles and tears continued, as did Kenzie's steady stream of encouraging words. "It's okay, I've got you." And you've got me. She sighed silently to herself as she began to realize just how much she had grown to care about Cori. They hadn't known each other for long, but the circumstances had been extreme, and she knew that time was not always measured in minutes. Time. She glanced at her watch. They were on a schedule. Kenzie was disinclined to break the embrace, but she knew she had to.

  As if sensing Kenzie's reluctant need, Cori sniffed loudly and pulled away from Kenzie's damp shoulder. "Thanks, I needed that." Cori studied Kenzie's face, just inches away from her own. "You're awfully warm."

  "You're awfully cute," Kenzie responded as she kissed Cori's forehead.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Are you?"

  "Stop it, I'm being serious. You're very warm." Cori pulled out of Kenzie's embrace and touched her forehead. "I thought you felt warm earlier."

  "I remember my mother used to kiss my forehead to check my temperature," Kenzie said with a smile.

  Cori's features drew into a concerned frown as her hand slid from Kenzie's forehead to cup her warm cheek. "I'm not your mother," she whispered as she brought her other hand up to Kenzie's other cheek and pulled her into a kiss. This was no peck on the lips, but a woman's kiss of want and desire.

  When Cori finally pulled back, Kenzie found herself a little breathless and more than a little sexually aroused. "You," Kenzie said as she licked her tingling lips, "are definitely not my mother."

  "And you have a fever. Maybe we should stay here for a bit until you're healed," Cori pleaded. She felt safe in Kenzie's arms, surrounded by Big Polly and his men.

  "We have to keep moving. Staying in one place for too long would be dangerous. It's only a minor wound and it will heal."

  "Either way, I hope the antibiotic kicks in soon."

  "Once I get cleaned up, it will look better and I'll feel better, trust me." She saw the concern on Cori's face, "I know all of this scares you, and it should, but you're going to have to trust me. A moving target is a lot harder to hit, so until we know what's going on, we're going to keep moving. Once we get to San Diego and onto my boat, we can pull up anchor and head out to sea."

  "To where?"

  "Wherever all of this leads us."

  "And then what, Kenzie?"

  "Then I'll do what I do best, because that's who I am."

  Chapter 11

  Transportes El Volante was the local bus service that was supposed to deposit people at the US/Mexican border every fifteen minutes, but it ran on Mexican time and was seldom punctual. Every year, over twenty million people pass through the metal turnstiles at the Tijuana port of entry, so the buses were seldom empty. Kenzie hoped that no one would pay any attention to two more people in the ever-moving flow northward.

  Big Polly had been true to his word, and both she and Cori had identification in the form of a California driver's license and a birth certificate. He had been adamant that they use the driver's licenses as their ID out of Mexico, or rather, their ticket back into the States.

  Cori was dressed in a plain, teal-colored, cotton t-shirt and faded jeans; Kenzie in a button down, white linen shirt and a pair of khaki pants. The day was warm, but with the soon to be setting sun, there would be a breeze off the ocean, so Big Polly had also produced two lightweight windbreakers, blue for Cori and an emerald green for Kenzie. They were well worn but fit as if they owned them, and that was all they needed. Big Polly had arranged everything.

  Kenzie glanced at Cori who was sitting close beside her. In her lap, nervous fingers clutched a black plastic shopping bag containing a couple of cheap t-shirts and a new leather purse, staple purchases for a tourist visiting Tijuana.

  Feeling Kenzie's eyes on her, Cori leaned over and whispered in her ear, "The souvenirs are a nice touch."

  "Speak for yourself." Kenzie glared at the bull shaped pinata on her lap. "At least yours are easy to handle and not so audacious." She'd had her reservations when Big Polly handed out the souvenirs, but when he assured her that her pinata held a special surprise, her reluctance turned to concern.

  "They have x-ray machines at the border. What do I do when they want to x-ray this little fella?"

  "It won't be a problem," Big Polly said with a knowing smile.

  Kenzie was doubtful. "Really?"

  "They can't and don't x-ray everything. Your little bull there won't fit through their x-ray machine."

  Kenzie gave the pinata a little shake, but she felt nothing inside.

  He smiled. "It's empty."

  "Really?"

  "No, but don't worry. I know for a fact that it won't be a problem."

  "And if they do decide it's a problem and want to x-ray it?"

  "They can't. I'm telling you - trust me."

  "I don't trust people, Big Polly. You know that. It's not in my nature."

  "You know me, and you know you can trust me. They can't x-ray it because it's too big. Don't worry, even if they were to shake it, it won't make a sound. They'll be looking for your reaction, that's when they'll decide if they want to look inside, but they never do. I'm sure you can handle it."

  She nodded her reluctant acceptance. "So, do I want to know what's inside?"

  Big Polly smiled. "A prize. Open it when you've cleared the border and are on the trolley heading north. The whole idea here is to blend in. You're a couple of women who just spent the day shopping in Tijuana. Once you're over the border, just follow the rest of the tourists. Use some of the c
ash I gave you and buy a few things from the locals. Be seen, but don't make a scene. Make some friends and everything will be fine. You know how this works, blend in."

  Looking around at the other tourists on the bus northbound to Tijuana, she gave Big Polly his due. There was not a single empty-handed passenger on the bus. He was right. If they were going to pull this off, then they had to be taken for tourists.

  It was something Kenzie found disturbing. She knew the protocols for her job. Unfortunately, her mind and body had been so badly beaten up that she had neglected one of the first rules of training: if you don't want to be noticed, then you have to learn to blend in and become part of your surroundings. Walk like a duck, talk like a duck, and you'll be taken for a duck.

  "What did you say?" Cori shot Kenzie a puzzled look. "Did you just say...did you say that we look like ducks?"

  "No," Kenzie said firmly.

  "Yes, you did," Cori insisted.

  Their short bus ride to the border lurched to a stop, saving Kenzie from having to respond. All but a few of the passengers rose to their feet at once, hoping to beat the mass exodus in escaping the stifling heat. The windows of the bus were open, allowing a steady breeze to swirl the dusty heat inside the rattletrap, but now that they had come to a stop, the temperature inside the bus would quickly become unbearable.

  One of the few still seated, Kenzie wiped the sweat from her brow. A puff of diesel smoke billowed past the window. She took several shallow breaths, hoping to clear some of the fumes from her head, but it didn't seem to help much. "Come on, let's go," she said as she stood up and waited for Cori to move into the line exiting the bus in front of her.

  They stepped out of the bus, away from the smell of diesel, dust, and sweat and into the ever-present aroma of Tijuana. Small carts and open-air stalls were cooking, making, and selling tortillas, burritos, and tamales, and the warm afternoon air was filled with their smells. The contents of many shops spilled out onto the uneven sidewalks: pottery, leather belts, jackets, t-shirts, ponchos, gold and silver jewelry in aged glass cases, velvet paintings of long dead singers and actors, and just about anything else a tourist might want to haggle over.