CL Hart -From A Distance

by CL Hart

  "That was kinda what I had in mind," Cori said as she smiled through her tears.

  Standing alone, leaning against the cold trunk of the taxicab, Kenzie questioned her own intentions. Maybe the judge was right after all, it might be better to hand the whole thing over to someone else. Let them sort through it. In the time it took her to formulate that thought, she realized the government rarely admitted to its mistakes, and when it did, it was those at the bottom of the ladder that found themselves in the deepest shit.

  "Kenzie," Cori's whispered plea brought her back, "come back to me."

  "I'm working on it."

  A half-empty bottle of Crown Royal sat in front of Deputy Director Bucannon. He had not slept and he had no intention of trying. Sitting on his sofa, he swirled the alcohol in his glass and then tossed it back, draining the remains. He leaned forward, poured himself another liberal libation, and then reached for his phone. No one had called him all night and he was beginning to feel like he was no longer part of the solution, but part of the problem. Dialing the senator's number from memory, he had to wait for only one ring before an unfamiliar voice answered the phone.

  "Senator?" he slurred.

  "Who's calling?"

  "Who is this?" Bucannon asked, sitting up a little straighter.

  "May I ask who is calling?" the authoritative voice repeated.

  "No, you may not. Who is this and where's the senator?"

  "This is Detective Montenegro, Seattle PD. Now it's your turn... Hello...hello." Bucannon quickly hung up the phone.

  The detective turned to a junior officer. "Find out who that was."

  Terry Bucannon's heart was beating loudly as he licked at his dry lips. Seattle PD! What the hell are the cops doing there? Calm down, calm down. He dialed the senator's cell phone.

  Kenzie was sipping her coffee in the back of the taxi that was still in the parking lot of the gas station. When she told the driver she had nowhere in particular to go, he asked if they could just stay where they were. He explained that the cost of the gas came out of his pocket, and she understood. Also, it was easier to read from the file sitting still.

  The cell phone on the seat next to her lit up and vibrated, dancing in an erratic circle on the worn upholstery. She picked it up, looked at the name on the Caller ID, and recognized it from the file. Terry Bucannon. Glancing down at his file, she noted his picture neatly stapled to the corner of his dossier. For the first time she knew the name of the man she had dubbed "Kevin", the man who had sat across the table from her so long ago when Colonel Manuck had recruited her.

  The phone vibrated again in her hand as she climbed from the cab. She opened the phone and put it to her ear.

  "Jesus Christ, Palmer. I just called your house and the cops are there. What's going on?" His voice was slurred with alcohol and panic.

  "Deputy Director, Terry Bucannon, NCS, National Clandestine Service, CIA," Kenzie read from the file. "Graduated Harvard law, in 1976. Joined the CIA in-"

  Just the sound of the woman's voice was enough to shut him up as the air slowly escaped from his lungs through his open mouth. He didn't need to ask, but he did anyhow. "Who is this?"

  "I think you know who I am. We met once before, though we were never introduced."

  "LeGault!" he said. "Where's the senator?"

  "He's dead." There was a long pause and she could almost feel his rising panic through the phone. "I know about Maquinar. I have the file."

  "Jesus Christ!"

  Kenzie glanced through the window at the file spread out over the backseat of the cab. "It has all been meticulously documented: names, dates, assignments...bank accounts."

  Bucannon sat back as an eerie calm came over him. It was over, and surprisingly enough, he felt relief.

  "The only thing I don't understand is...why?" Kenzie said, "Was it all just for money?"

  Foregoing the glass, Bucannon put the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He welcomed the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. Placing the bottle back on the table, he wiped his lips before he answered her. "It wasn't for the money, at least not for me, not in the beginning."

  "Then explain it to me."

  Taking a long, slow breath, Bucannon wondered how he could have let things go so far. Their plans in the beginning had seemed so honorable and just. He wondered how he could put it all into perspective for her. "If we could have taken out Osama bin Laden before 9-11, what would that have been worth to the people of the world?"

  "Him, I would have done for free. But isn't that part of what the NCS is about - fighting terrorists?"

  "Yes. The National Clandestine Service was created in the wake of the 9-11 attacks, but you have to understand-"

  "I do understand, but we weren't killing terrorists, Mr. Bucannon."

  "We only call them terrorists after they have committed an act of terrorism. What if we could eliminate them before they have a chance to kill thousands of people, or what if we could take out a dictator before he becomes a tyrant putting lives and freedoms in harm's way? People questioned why no one stopped Hitler before he murdered millions of Jews and tried to take over the world, but by the time we knew what he was doing, it was too late."

  "So Maquinar was created to kill these people, these civilians, before they did anything?"

  "They weren't civilians," Bucannon said defensively.

  "Cori Evans is a civilian."

  The statement and the name caught him off guard, and it took him a moment to respond. "That was different. That was Palmer's remedy to his own problem. Cori Evans knew too much about the distribution of the money. She put the whole operation in jeopardy."

  "So it was about the money?"

  "It wasn't about the money," Bucannon said with conviction. "It was about saving lives and trying to bring stability to a world out of control."

  "So by killing people, you gain control of the governments and their leaders, thereby getting control of their money."

  "Yes...no, it wasn't about the money." But Bucannon was no longer convincing even himself. "At least not in the beginning."

  "Well, it's all over now. Maquinar is finished. Your career is finished," she said with disdain. "And when I've found and dealt with Manuck, I'm coming after you."

  "Don't bother," Bucannon said as he reached into his side table, pulled out his gun, and put it into his mouth.

  The rolling ticker at the bottom of the TV screen had been announcing the senator's death for over an hour. Manuck desperately wanted to know the particulars, but there was no way for him to make inquires without drawing unwanted attention. He knew LeGault had a hand in it, just as she had with Viper's death. He kept asking himself where she was now, and how much she knew.

  His phone rang, and when he looked at the call display, he smirked. The senator was dead, so there was only one person who would have the guts to call him from the senator's cell phone. "I wondered how long I was going to have to wait to hear from you."

  "Colonel." Kenzie addressed him with his military rank more out of habit than respect. "The senator and Bucannon are dead."

  He had been concerned when he hadn't heard from Bucannon after the news about the senator broke. Now he knew. Not surprisingly, the information did not bother him in the least. It was one loose end he no longer had to tie up. "I didn't know about Bucannon, but thanks for the update. So now what? Are you coming after me?"

  "I want to meet."

  The colonel laughed. "So you can put a bullet in my head? I think not. I'm not that stupid."

  "I don't need to kill you. This is over. I'm finished, and so is your career."

  The truth of her statement burned inside of him. He didn't trust her, but he was curious. "Why meet then?"

  "Because I want answers and only you can provide them," she said honestly.

  "So, ask away."

  "Not on the phone. I don't trust you any more than you trust me. I want to be able to look you in the eye."

  "Again I say, so that you can kill
me?"

  "You pick the place and the time."

  He thought about it for a moment, quickly weighing his options. It had to be someplace public, but not too public. There would have to be people, even at this time of the morning, and it would have to have good access in and out. If he played his cards right, he could finish her off, then lay low until the whole mess blew over. Maybe a meeting wasn't such a bad idea after all. "The boardwalk at Waterfront Park, in front of the fountain. Two hours."

  The judge, Cori, and a subdued Kenzie sat edgily in the car in the public parking lot across from Seattle's Waterfront Park. Lined with benches and lampposts, the wide wooden boardwalk ran the length of the harbor between piers 57 and 59. It was home to shops, restaurants, charter boats, and the Aquarium. It was early, the sun had just come up, and the boardwalk was already busy with tourists and locals alike. The rush hour was humming along above them on the Alaskan Way Viaduct as Kenzie, Cori, and the judge waited for Manuck's arrival.

  "He'll be early," Kenzie said as she watched the South Lake Union Trolley lumber past them, "looking for any sign of a setup."

  Cori placed a hand on Kenzie's thigh. "I don't like this. You're making yourself a target and he has nothing to lose." She was relieved when Kenzie had finally returned to her, and she was not happy to have her in harm's way again. "How can you trust him?"

  "I can't, and I don't, but he won't trust me either." She put her hand on top of Cori's and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I have to do this or I'll never be able to live with myself. He has answers nobody else can give me. I need to do this for myself."

  The judge was quiet in the front seat. His thoughts echoed Cori's concern as he scanned the boardwalk with binoculars.

  "It's time. I have to go." Kenzie looked into Cori's worried eyes. "You stay here. The judge will keep you safe."

  "And what about you?"

  Kenzie gave her a reassuring smile and leaned in to kiss her. "I'll be fine."

  The gentle peck was not enough for Cori and she pulled Kenzie into a deep, emotional kiss. "Please, be careful," Cori whispered, as they parted, "so don't do anything foolish or heroic."

  "We should have thought of that before we put all this into action," Kenzie said, and then she looked at the judge. "Are we set?"

  Not trusting his voice to hide his apprehension, he turned and nodded.

  "Keep her safe," Kenzie said as she started to climb from the car. Cori reached out for her hand, and they connected one last time. Kenzie looked into her eyes, not wanting to let go but knowing she had to.

  "Come back to me," Cori whispered.

  "That's my plan." With one last squeeze of Cori's hand, Kenzie exited the vehicle. Leaving them behind was harder than she'd thought it would be. However, she knew she had to block them out and concentrate on what she had to do. She crossed the trolley tracks and waited for a break in the traffic.

  Colonel Manuck was dressed in civilian clothes, though he still walked like a military man. Weary but alert, he strolled casually down the weathered boardwalk. He had checked the rooftops on the east side on his first pass of Waterfront Park, and the west side on this second. There were not many places LeGault could set up without witnesses, but that did little to ease his mind. Several times in the last hour, he had questioned why he was there. He wondered the same thing again as he approached the large, bronze, cubical-shaped fountain.

  Not wanting to sit down and give her an easy target, if she was out there, Manuck kept moving, amongst the trees and around the fountain. His back to the ocean, the colonel scanned the buildings, the boardwalk, and the throngs of people. There was no sign of her and that heightened his anxiety. She was out there, he knew it. He just didn't know where.

  "Hello, Colonel."

  Manuck spun around at the sound of her voice and watched as she climbed over the hand railing that separated the boardwalk from the ocean. "You're a little late," she said as she hopped down beside him.

  "So are you."

  "Just wanted to make sure you came alone." She eyed the man she had once respected. He looked tired, and a little too confident for her liking.

  "Armed?" Manuck asked.

  Kenzie unzipped her windbreaker, held it open for him to see, and then turned in a circle. She had no weapon, but she was sure he did. "You?"

  "Of course." Manuck pulled back his sport jacket, revealing the butt of a gun.

  With Manuck's back to the judge, she was certain he had not been able to see the weapon. Nonchalantly, Kenzie ran her fingers through her curls, signaling the judge that the colonel was armed.

  "You look like shit, soldier," Manuck said, noting her numerous scratches, scrapes, and bruises. "But then, most of the other guys are all dead, aren't they?"

  "Their blood is on your hands, not mine. I only did what I had to do to stay alive."

  "So...why the reunion, LeGault?"

  "I know about Maquinar," she said. "I know I have not been working for the government. We've all been hired assassins, paid in full by you, Palmer, and Bucannon."

  "You brought me here to tell me that?" He didn't believe it for a moment. "What do you really want to know, LeGault?"

  "Whose decision was it to bring me into Maquinar?" It was one of the questions she wanted to ask him face to face.

  "Mine."

  Kenzie felt deflated. Her mentor, the man whose military career she had emulated, had betrayed her right from the very beginning. "Why me? Why did you pick me?"

  "Because you were exactly what we were looking for - the model soldier. You followed orders without question. Your abilities and instincts made you an ideal candidate for what we were doing. You had no family and no friends, no ties to the community. Once we got rid of Mifflin, the rest just fell into-"

  "You killed Mifflin?" That information was new to her.

  "Well, not me directly. It was one of your colleagues. Viper, I believe."

  In shocked disbelief, Kenzie swayed under the weight of the information. "You killed Mifflin." Her tone and wording drew no attention from the passing crowd. "Why?"

  "We needed you to learn to work alone."

  "You had him killed so that you could get me into your kill squad?"

  "Call it...collateral damage. It needed to be done. Viper made it a clean kill."

  "You fucking bastard!" Kenzie stared at the man who had been her commander, feeling as if she had been gut-kicked. "He was one of us, one of the good guys." In a flash of memory, she recalled the look on Viper's face when they met before the mission in the desert. What a shock it must have been when he recognized her.

  "Mifflin was a problem. He was in the way of what we were trying to accomplish," Colonel Manuck said.

  "Just like those soldiers you sent us to murder in the middle of the goddamn desert?" Kenzie inquired angrily.

  Only then did Manuck realize how much she had changed. Showing emotion was never a part of her training. "What does it matter? You didn't follow orders then, either, did you? Instead you ended up in a fistfight with two members of your own squad."

  "I want to know why the three of us were sent to murder our own men."

  "Are you really that naive? You've been around this world and you've seen things most people have not. People die for a lot less than what those soldiers died for."

  Kenzie stepped to within an arm's length of him and glared into his eyes. "I want to know why we were sent to murder our own soldiers!"

  "Because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, wearing the wrong uniforms," he fired back. "They were sent there to assist in a coup, and if they'd been caught and identified as US soldiers, the ramifications would have been catastrophic."

  "For you or for them?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't answer. Kenzie had read some of this in the Maquinar file, but reading the words were a lot different than hearing them. "To assist in a coup? That isn't exactly how I read it. It sounded more like they were there to overthrow the local government."

  She saw the car door open and the judge st
ep out. Why are you getting out? Stay there, her mind screamed. Then she saw both the judge and Cori standing in front of their car. It was an unneeded distraction and she fought to concentrate on the dangerous man in front of her.

  "So those soldiers' deaths were all part of Maquinar, and your bid for money and power?"

  "War is a very profitable business, LeGault. A lot of people become very rich and powerful because of it." Manuck eyed her suspiciously. Something about her demeanor had changed and it made him leery. He turned his attention from her and quickly scanned the boardwalk.

  "Colonel!" Her tone caused him to turn back to her. "Who sent those soldiers there in the first place?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It does to me!" she shouted. "Who sent them there?"

  "I did!" he yelled back, uncharacteristically. "It was my decision, my orders!"

  Kenzie was stunned. How could she ever have looked up to this man? He was the epitome of what Bucannon had described as the reason behind the founding of Maquinar - an out of control tyrant, killing his own people for money. "I can't believe I followed your orders so blindly."

  "That's what soldiers do in time of war."

  "This was not a time of war. This was your way of trying to start a war so that you could make more money. Most people don't start wars to make a profit. You did. You had me assassinate people so that you could manipulate and mold foreign governments to your will - all for money," Kenzie said, disgusted by the man she thought she knew.

  "And power," Colonel Manuck said firmly.

  "You are not God, Colonel. You can't play with people's lives like that." Kenzie didn't want to take her eyes off of him for fear that a simple glance would alert him to the judge and Cori crossing the street.

  "With enough money you can."

  Kenzie had the answers she wanted and they left her feeling shattered. It was over and she had heard enough. "All the money in the world isn't going to get you out of this," she said as the judge and Cori approached walking up the boardwalk.

  "Sure it will," he said smugly as Kenzie stepped away from him.

  Tilting her chin toward her chest, Kenzie sighed deeply. "I hope you got that, General," she said.