CL Hart -From A Distance

by CL Hart

  It opened into a carpeted corridor with wood grain paneling on one side, large floor-to-ceiling windows on the other, and it veered continuously to the right. People were now turning to look at them in shock and disbelief as the two raced past them. An elderly security guard lounging sedately at his information booth saw them coming and hastily jumped to his feet. "Hey, hey, hey...what's going on here?" he yelled after them, but neither Kenzie nor Viper paid him any attention. He quickly retrieved his radio and called for backup as the two intruders raced out of sight. They ran out of the corridor into a large open area, a hub with hallways that split off in different directions. Kenzie chose a path to the right. Around the corner, the surface changed from carpet to tile and she was thankful that she was wearing sneakers. Viper was not so lucky. His boots didn't have soles that gripped and he went down, sliding hard into the wall. Kenzie didn't even slow her pace. What had been an elegant corridor was now a mall with shops and stores, and she was running straight toward a food court and an escalator. With all she had, she took the moving stairs two steps at a time. It was a struggle because her legs were not that long, but she made up for it with grit, guts, and determination. Grabbing hold of the handrail at the top, she swung the corner just in time to see Viper reach the bottom of the escalator. Leaning down, she slammed her fist against the plastic cover over the bright red stop button, breaking the plastic and stopping the escalator with a loud ringing alarm. The sudden stop toppled Viper to his knees, and Kenzie heard him curse loudly.

  Kenzie saw the exit doors and hit them at full speed. The metal fire doors swung open, banging loudly against the building walls. She was now on the second level of an open concrete courtyard. It was only then that she realized she had just run through Seattle's convention center. She felt a little more confident knowing where she was, however, her confidence was short lived. She saw Viper ascending the inactive escalator like a staircase. Without hesitation, she ran to the edge of the courtyard and leapt over the three-foot concrete barrier.

  Flying through the air, Kenzie reached out for tree branches to slow her descent to the bushes below. Landing hard, she felt a sharp pain blast through her body. It took her a moment to collect herself. Getting to her feet, she crawled out of the bushes as people screamed and scattered. She glanced back at the second story and was not surprised to see Viper jump over the wall the way they both had been trained. He was not as lucky as she had been. Being bigger, broader, and a lot heavier, the branches snapped under his weight.

  Kenzie heard the crashing thump as Viper landed. Without waiting to assess the damage, she sloshed her way through the small pool and past the decorative waterfall. Scampering down the last few stairs, she shot a glance behind her. Viper had had the wind knocked out of him, but he was staggering to his feet.

  Racing across the courtyard, she heard Viper splashing his way through the pool. From the sound of his progress, he was limping badly, but that barely slowed him as he hurried down the last of the stairs.

  Kenzie was back at the street where she had started. A quick look back told her Viper, limping as he was, was still catching up to her. Dashing out onto Union Street, she encountered the rush of the one-way traffic, the air filled with the sounds of screeching tires and horns honking. Ignoring the pain in her side, she wove her way in and out of the downtown traffic. Viper was only a few yards behind her when she heard a horn, followed by a sickening thud and the smashing of glass.

  She slowed and glanced behind her. Viper's body was sliding down the hood of a car, its smashed windshield clear evidence of the traumatic collision. Kenzie stood gasping for air as she watched and waited. Viper was moving, but the chase was over. He was not getting up. Taking several deep breaths, she turned to go then decided against it. She was tired of running and she wanted answers. She moved toward him as several people hurried to his aid, unsure of what help they might give.

  "Is he dead?" a voice asked as Kenzie approached him.

  "Someone call an ambulance."

  "I didn't see him!" the driver exclaimed in shock as he stood next to his damaged car. "He just came running out in front of me...he didn't even look."

  Kenzie barely gave the driver a glance as she knelt next to Viper's broken body. He opened his eyes and stared up at her.

  Kenzie was still breathing hard, but her face was devoid of emotion. Looking down at the face of the former colleague who was trying to kill her, she found she had nothing to say to him.

  "Oh my God, he's alive!" a woman screamed behind her.

  Viper was alive, though Kenzie could tell he wouldn't be for long. Blood bubbled from his lips and trickled out of his mouth with each breath. She knew what she had come back for, and so did he.

  Viper groaned as he attempted to reach into his pocket. "Take it," he mumbled.

  "Hey...what are you doing there?" a man holding a cell phone demanded.

  Kenzie ignored the stranger as she stared into Viper's darkening eyes. She pulled the manila envelope from his pocket.

  Viper could feel his lungs filling with blood as his approaching death eased some of his pain. He looked into Kenzie's golden eyes. "I only did...I only did what I was ordered to do," he said, pausing to catch a breath.

  "But why?"

  Viper swallowed several times, struggling for a breath. He didn't have the answer she sought. "It was what...I was told to do."

  "By Manuck."

  He managed a nod. "Not just Manuck," he sputtered.

  "I know."

  "We shouldn't...have killed...them. You...you were right." He coughed and choked on his words as the blood oozed over his lips. Desperate to ease his conscience, Viper fought for his last breath. "You need...to end this."

  "That's my plan," she said coldly as she watched the life fade from his eyes. The distant sound of a siren signaled Kenzie it was time to leave. And she was gone.

  The chime rang signaling a customer's arrival, and Cori looked at the door. Once again, it was not Kenzie. Try as she might to concentrate on her monitor, every sweep of the minute hand seemed like an eternity.

  The judge observed her expression of disappointment and knew there was not much he could do to comfort her. "She'll be back," he said, trying to convince himself as much as her. "Give her some time."

  How much time? Cori wondered. She rose to her feet and walked to one of the coffee shop's large windows. "I'm not worried about whether she'll come back - I'm worried about when she does come back." She watched the pedestrians and the cars as they passed the window. "This whole...mess has to be overwhelming to her."

  The judge watched Cori as she maintained her vigil at the window. Her body was tense. She crossed and uncrossed her arms repeatedly. This woman was a stranger to him, but he still felt the need to protect her, if not from the people who were out there trying to harm her, then at least from herself. "What about you?" he asked.

  "What about me?" Cori echoed without taking her eyes from the constant flow of pedestrian traffic.

  "How is all of this affecting you?"

  Turning away from the window with a perplexed look, she addressed him very matter-of-factly. "You mean besides the shooting, the running, the explosions, the fires, and the not one, but two, near drownings? Or are you referring to falling in love with a woman whose life has been turned upside down and inside out? Because either way you slice it, I'm fine...or I will be once she walks back through that door."

  "You love her?"

  "I do." She turned back to the window, watching for Kenzie as an ambulance wailed past the cafe. "And don't ask me why because I couldn't explain it to you any more than I could explain the color green to a blind person. It's just what it is."

  Kenzie was moving as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. Heading north, all she wanted was to get back to the judge, and to Cori. With great relief, she saw the glass archway and knew she was close to the cafe. Her pace slowed as she glanced down at the file and the blood on her hands. It was not her blood, but it could have
been. She stopped and thought about where she was going. The manila envelope had her name on it, not Cori's. It was irrefutable confirmation that she had been the target the entire time, not the woman she was going back to. Cori was safe now, in the care of the only person left in the world that she trusted.

  The sirens were getting louder and so was the voice of her conscience. How could she go back to them, knowing it was she who was putting them in danger? She couldn't, and she knew it. Raising her arm, Kenzie flagged down the first cab she saw.

  "Where to?" the driver asked as she climbed into the backseat.

  "Anywhere but here."

  The cab driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror as the woman pulled a wad of money from her pocket. He could see blood on her hands as she peeled off a bill and handed it to him. Accepting the money, he decided it was not his concern, so he turned on his meter.

  Leaning back in the seat, Kenzie took a deep breath of relief when the cab pulled away from the curb. Where she was going, she had no idea. When they passed the cafe, Kenzie spotted Cori standing in the window, her arms crossed and a look of concern on her face. Kenzie told herself that she was doing the right thing, but if that was true, why did she feel so bad?

  "You got a cell phone?" she asked the driver. He nodded and pulled one from his pocket. Kenzie handed him another bill. "I just need to borrow it." And he passed it back to her.

  She was not sure what she was going to say, but she didn't want them waiting at the cafe any longer.

  The judge, focused on his computer monitor, almost missed the vibration of the phone in his pocket. He looked at Cori as he answered the phone.

  "It's me," Kenzie said in a tired voice.

  "Where are you?"

  "That's not important at the moment. Look, you need to get out of there."

  "Are you okay, Katherine?"

  "I'm fine. I just need you to take Cori and go. Get out of there, now. Find some place safe. I have a couple of things I need to do, but I need to know that she'll be safe."

  "Katherine, what are you going to do?"

  "I trust you, Judge. I trust you with her life and yours."

  The judge persisted. "Katherine, where are you?"

  "Please...just look after her, okay? I'll contact you." She closed the phone, ending the call.

  Cori snatched the phone from the judge's hand. "Kenzie!" But she was gone. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

  "She said she was fine, but we need to go."

  "What do you mean, go? If she's fine then why are we leaving?"

  "Because she told us to leave," the judge said as he gathered up his things.

  "I want to know what she said, what's going on."

  "Not now, Cori. We need to go," he said, taking her by the arm.

  Cori pulled from his grasp and stood defiantly still. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what she said."

  The judge looked around the cafe, and then out the windows. No one appeared to be paying them any special attention, but that didn't ease his concern. It all seemed so unreal to him, everything except the frustration on Cori's face. "Katherine didn't tell me what was going on. All she said was that we needed to leave and to get somewhere safe. That was all. So might I suggest that we leave...now."

  Reluctantly, Cori scooped up her papers and pulled Kenzie's jacket from the back of the chair. The weight of it sent a cool shiver of fear through her.

  Judge Woodward saw the change of expression. "What? What is wrong?"

  She silently reached into the pocket of the jacket and showed him the butt of the gun. "It's her gun!"

  "Put that away," the judge said in a hushed whisper. "We attracted enough attention earlier."

  "But it's hers... She has no gun...no way to defend herself."

  The judge stepped toward Cori. Putting his hand on hers, he slid the gun back into the jacket. "I'm not comfortable with that, so let's leave it where it is." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and they headed for the door. "I wouldn't be too worried about Katherine being defenseless. I know her and I know what she's capable of. She is more than proficient in the art of defending herself, with or without a gun."

  Staring out the taxi window, Kenzie tried to decide where she was going and what she was going to do. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, yet she still didn't have an idea what the big picture was.

  The judge had told her to follow the money, so she decided to do just that. The money came to her from Trillium, and it came to Trillium from Palmer Tectonic. If she was going to start anywhere, it might as well be at the top.

  "Do you know where Winston Palmer lives?" Kenzie asked the cab driver.

  He shrugged. "Who?"

  Kenzie pulled a couple of bills from her pocket and held them up to him. She watched his eyes as she asked again. "Senator Winston Palmer."

  "I think he lives out on Lake Washington somewhere."

  She added several more bills to the collection, and the driver eyed each of them greedily. "Somewhere?" she asked, offering him the bills.

  "On McGilvra Boulevard, about half an hour or so from here." He took the money and changed direction.

  Chapter 23

  The skies darkened with the approach of evening as the cab made its way northward toward Lake Washington. The homes grew in grandeur as the gates and fences grew in height. The taxi slowed as they wound through large, lavish residential properties in search of Senator Palmer's home.

  Engrossed in the information she had taken from Viper, Kenzie had not been paying close attention to their direction. It was her entire life typed and neatly assembled inside a manila envelope. The more she read, the more defeated and disheartened she felt. They had it all - from the addresses of her bank accounts to the zip code of her bike mechanic, and scrawled in the margin of one of the papers was the marina where she had kept her boat. They, whoever they were, knew everything about her.

  The driver slowed the car as they approached the senator's gated home. "We're here."

  Looking up from the file, Kenzie peered out the car window. "Don't stop. Pull up there, beyond those trees."

  He did as directed, curious as to what was going to happen next. His fare had intrigued him since he saw the thick roll of money in her pocket. She had been quiet if not anxious, or maybe frustrated. He watched her looking about the neighborhood.

  Kenzie pulled three more bills from her pocket. "Give me half an hour. If I'm not back, redial the last number on your cell phone and give him this." Kenzie held up the brown manila envelope and then laid it down on the backseat. She started to pass him the cash, but had second thoughts. Ripping the bills in half, she handed over three halves, "Just to make sure you wait."

  He took the torn bills and looked at her quizzically. "And if you don't come back?"

  "The man on the phone will reimburse you for your time and trouble."

  Exiting the cab, Kenzie quietly closed the door. She walked past the large mansion the cab driver had pointed out as Palmer's, examining every detail of the fence, the gate, and the security system. It told her the man who could afford all of this had a lot of money, and a lot of enemies.

  Climbing a large tree next to the stone wall gave Kenzie a better view of the grounds around the senator's home. There were only a few lights on, but with a house that size it would be impossible to tell if he was alone or even home. Checking the area, she tried to ascertain whether there were any in-ground sensors, but she wouldn't know for certain until she was standing on the neatly trimmed lawn. After a quick glance back to assure her the cab had not left, she scaled the fence and dropped into the unknown.

  Holding herself in a crouch, she listened for the sound of an alarm. To her relief there was only the quiet serenity of an affluent neighborhood. No barking dogs or raised voices, no signs of life beyond the fences, everyone was safely tucked inside their homes. Moving cautiously in the shadows, she was on alert as she made her way down past what she assumed was a large garage. Kenzie's heartbeat was strong
and steady as adrenaline pounded through her. The grass and bushes were wet from the afternoon showers, but she paid them little attention as she crept along the side of the house. Rounding the corner, she ignored the million-dollar view of Lake Washington as she glanced from window to window. Stepping with care onto the multi-level cedar deck, she was not surprised to find the first set of double doors locked. Treading cautiously, she tried the second set of doors and a couple of windows, but they were all locked as well. Picking up a small potted plant, Kenzie moved to the last set of double glass doors. Swinging the ceramic pot back with enough force to smash the glass, she hesitated a moment and tried the handle. To her amused surprise, the door was unlocked. Kenzie returned the potted plant and stepped silently into the house.

  She found herself in a massive kitchen. Expensive looking stone countertops were bare and cold looking. The stainless steel fridge was unadorned, without even a picture or magnet. In the center of the kitchen was a large island, shadowed above by a copper and iron grid that held pots and pans. The only thing out of place was a single dirty plate next to the sink, its cutlery placed neatly in the center. Someone was definitely home.

  In the stillness of the evening, a muffled voice came from deeper inside the house. Leaving the kitchen, Kenzie followed the faint sound. Moving through the house, she ignored the elaborate design and the impeccably positioned furnishings, concentrating all her senses on one destination. The art on the walls and the Italian furniture meant nothing to her. All she wanted was to locate the person who was talking.

  She made her way to a wide hallway, which ended with a set of dark double doors. Moving toward them, she could see that one of them was slightly ajar. The voice she'd been following was now clearer. The speaker had an English accent and the voice was obviously coming from a television within the room. Approaching with caution, she stopped several times and looked back in the direction from which she had come. Kenzie was thankful when she found nothing but the stairs leading to the second floor. Inching closer to the open door, she heard the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. Kenzie chanced a quick peek into the room.