Shot at Redemption

by Ken W. Smith

“It’s a Trifan 600 from XTI. I’m launching an air taxi business in Manhattan. This is the first VTOL in my fleet.”

  “What’s a VTOL?”

  “It stands for vertical take-off and lift. It’s like the V-22 Ospreys used by the Marines. But it flies faster and lands like a helicopter. I’m using it for flights between New York and the other northeast cities. What do you think?”

  “It’s amazing,” Jay said. “I think it’s going to be a big hit.”

  “So do I. The bombings have people rattled. I’ve had executives request security guards to protect them on business trips. What do you think about working together?”

  “Sounds like a great idea, but let’s talk later. I’m too worried about Jessie to think straight.”

  * * *

  An hour later, they landed at Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan.

  Michelle opened the door and hugged Jay, “Everything will be okay.”

  “Why are you doing this for me,” Jay said.

  “Are you serious? You tried to save Michael’s life in Pakistan, and you stayed with me when he died. For days you held me and never complained. For God’s sake, you were a pallbearer at his funeral. I’ll always love you for that. Now I’m praying that Jessie survives. I’m going to return the trifan and will be back as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, Michelle,” Jay said. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Jay was escorted to a family conference room with a small couch and two chairs. GNN was on the TV. The headline read Sister of Priest Murderer Injured in a Bomb Blast.

  After fifteen minutes, a female Asian doctor came in and shut the door.

  “Mr. Mendes, my name is Doctor Chin. I’m the trauma surgeon who operated on your sister.”

  Jay looked at the doctor. Something was wrong. She seemed very nervous. “What’s going on?”

  “Your sister is alive but in grave condition. She’s lost a lot of blood and has severe internal bleeding. We’ve been able to get the bleeding under control, but her leg is the main concern. She has severe tendon damage, and a bad infection is threatening her life.”

  “So, are you going to be able to fix it?” Jay said. “She’s a kid.”

  “No, I’m sorry. We can’t save the leg and keep your sister alive. I need your permission to amputate. And I need it now.”

  Jay stared at the doctor. He couldn’t believe what he heard. And now he had to give permission to remove his sister’s leg? Will it ruin her dreams to be a journalist? Will she ever be able to forgive him? But how could he let her go? Then he thought of Jojo. He never had a chance to save him.

  “Mr. Mendes, please,” Chin said. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Will she survive if you don’t amputate?”

  “No, sir. She won’t.”

  “Then you have my permission.”

  Chapter 22

  Kyle paced the apartment, waiting for a call from Brendan. He told him he was going to pick up Carla and Charlotte. Did something happen? Did Art show up? Kyle’s mind was spinning. There was a knock on the front door. Kyle opened the door to see his three friends standing there. He could see on their faces that something was wrong.

  “Where have you guys been?” Kyle asked. “I thought something happened.”

  “We were at the house waiting for you,” Brendan said. “You said you were coming over.”

  “No, you said you were coming to get me.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Carla said. “Did you see the news on GNN today?”

  “No. I never watch TV.”

  “Oh my God,” Charlotte said. “You mean you don’t know what happened last night? They’ve been reporting non-stop.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on then,” Brendan said as he grabbed Kyle by the arm and dragged him out of the door.

  “What’s going on?”

  Nobody said a word as they walked across the driveway and went to enter the house when Brendan stopped short. Lindsey was sitting on the sectional sofa talking on the phone.

  “Shh,” Brendan said to the girls and Kyle, who was still outside the door.

  “You’re not going to fire, Jay? Why? He’s a killer.” Lindsey said. “She said Jay killed that priest in cold blood. He’s a murderer, and you’re running around with him like he’s a hero? Marty, you’re crazy. You need to do something about him. He can’t come to this house again.” Lindsey slammed the phone down. She wiped tears from her eyes, then got off the couch and went down the basement stairs.

  Kyle’s eyes opened wide. The guy he thought was a rental cop. Then a hero was a killer.

  Kyle followed Brendan and the girls into the family room. They sat down on the couch and waited while Brendan pulled the report up from the DVR menu.

  “Here, watch the report,” Brendan said. “I recorded it this afternoon.”

  Kyle stared at an aerial view of a smoking Saint Patrick’s. “This is Kathleen Amejian reporting from Bellevue Hospital in New York City. Reliable sources confirmed the identity of the shooter at the Cathedral in Boston. He is former Navy SEAL, Jay Mendes. Mendes now works for Maravista Security in Falmouth, Massachusetts. Our source told us Mendes shot the unidentified priest from point-blank range. We also learned the person Mendes was protecting, Bishop Ramirez of Fall River, was also shot. We cannot confirm a rumor that the priest Mendes shot was wearing a suicide vest. We’ve asked FBI officials about Mendes, but they refuse to comment.”

  “I can’t believe she’s saying those lies,” Kyle said. “Jay would never shoot anybody in cold blood.”

  “Wait,” Carla said. “It gets better.”

  “We also learned Mendes’ sister, Jessie Mendes, a journalism student, was injured in the blast at St. Patrick’s today. Mendes was flown to New York by Goddard Aviation President Michelle Goddard. Goddard’s public relations department claims Goddard and Mendes are mere friends. But my sources claim their relationship is more complex. Should one of the richest women in the world be associated with an alleged killer? This is Kathleen Amejian from GNN.”

  * * *

  Brendan turned the television off.

  “How did Kathleen find out about Jay being the shooter?” Kyle said to nobody in particular. He looked at his friends, but nobody said a word. “Come on. We were talking about Jay last night.”

  “Okay,” Brendan said while he fiddled with the tv remote. “I mentioned to Carla that I overheard my Dad talking to Jay.”

  “Then I shared the news with Charlotte,” Carla said. “And I posted it on Snapchat, Facebook, and Twitter.”

  “My mother read my Snapchat feed this morning,” Charlotte said. “I’m sorry. She told her friends at the ad agency.”

  “Who is friends with Kathleen,” Kyle said as he stood up and walked into the kitchen. “What do we do now? Jay is going to kill us. Literally!”

  “How will he know we were the source of the news story?” Charlotte said. “We can try to keep it a secret.”

  “Yeah, we’re great at keeping secrets,” Kyle said.

  “We can tell him the truth,” Carla said. “We didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “Okay, that’s a great idea,” Brendan said. “Tell the world’s deadliest man we were the ones responsible for revealing his identity. That should go over with a bang. To our heads!”

  “Brendan,” Charlotte said. “Stop it. You’re scaring me.”

  “Charlotte, he’s teasing,” Carla said. “Jay wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “How do you know?” Kyle said.” “Do you know the man? We know he was capable of shooting that priest, and he’s killed other people before.”

  “He was a soldier,” Brendan said. “That was his job!”

  Charlotte put her face in her hands, “Exactly my point. He’s a professional killer. What have we got ourselves into?”

  Kyle put his hand on Charlotte’s back. “Charlotte, it’s okay. My Uncle Marty and my mother will make sure nothing happens to us. I promise. I don’t believe he’s gui
lty. We need to do something to prove Jay is innocent.”

  “What can we do?” Charlotte said. “We’re kids.”

  “Oh my God,” Carla said. “I know what we can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I saw a video on TikTok. A boater spotted four men getting off a small rubber raft on one of the Elizabeth Islands. He thought they looked like military types. There’s an old, abandoned mansion on the island. People online said they were squatters.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Brendan said. “What does that have to do with us?”

  “We could go out to the island tonight and use your drones to take pictures,” Carla said. “They may have something to do with the attacks.”

  “What if they’re like Jay?” Charlotte asked. “They could kidnap us or worse. They could kill us.”

  “Or the mansion is a haunted house,” Brendan said. “Charlotte, you could see some ghosts. Whoooo.”

  “Stop it, Brendan. I’m serious. We’re not soldiers. Tell your father. Let the police handle it.”

  “I agree with Brendan,” Kyle said. “We’ll send in the bots, take pictures and leave. They’ll never know we were there.”

  “How are we gonna get there?” Charlotte asked.

  “My dad has a boat,” Brendan said.

  “Your mother won’t let us go,” Charlotte said.

  “Who said we are gonna ask,” Brendan said. “You know the saying the adults always use. It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.”

  “We have to get home by midnight,” Carla said. “How long will it take us to get to the island?”

  Kyle pulled up a Google map on his iPad. They looked at the distance from their home to the island. “It’s about seven miles. The boat travels at twenty knots. We should be there in twenty minutes.”

  “It’s eight-thirty now,” Carla said. “If we hurry, we can get there and back in two hours. “We’ll be home by eleven.”

  * * *

  Kyle and Brendan ran across the driveway and into the carriage house. They ran down the stairs into the basement.

  The carriage house had a fieldstone foundation and dirt floor. Two bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling. One side of the basement held boxes and furniture owned by Kyle’s mother. On the other side of the basement, three tables lined the wall. The first table held a laptop computer, two monitors, and a tabletop 3D printer. The second table had a line of small tools and two rows of bins hanging from a pegboard. Three microbots, a large one, and two small ones, sat plugged into a charging station. The third table held two black carrying cases with foam inside. One case was empty, while the other case had three microbots in it.

  “Grab the microbots off the charging station and put them in the empty case,” Kyle said. “Then bring the case, VR headsets, and iPad upstairs. I’ll put them in my backpack. I’m going to change. And Brendan, don’t touch anything else.”

  While Brendan grabbed the bag with the bots, Kyle ran upstairs. He saw his mother sleeping on their couch in front of the television. If Kyle woke her up, she would tell him they couldn’t go. If he let her sleep, she would be mad he didn’t tell her. He decided to send her a text and say they’re going for a walk and will be back in thirty minutes.

  Kathleen Amejian was on television saying how Jay Mendes was a threat to national safety. The FBI should arrest and question him. She wondered if he was part of the terrorist plot instead of a hero. Kyle wanted to throw something at the TV, but he took a deep breath, picked up the remote, and shut the TV off.

  Kyle ran down the stairs and yelled, “Let’s go. It’s getting late!”

  Brendan ran up the stairs and handed the gear to Kyle, who stuffed it all into his backpack.

  “I’m going to change,” said Brendan.

  Kyle joined the girls at the fire pit.

  Carla wore a black t-shirt featuring eighties, hard-rock band Def Leppard and jeans. Charlotte wore a pink blouse, white shorts, and flip-flops.

  “Charlotte, don’t you think you might want to wear something a bit warmer? And darker?” Kyle asked. “It can get pretty chilly on the ocean.”

  “I didn’t bring anything else,” she said. “I thought we were hanging out by the fire pit.”

  “You can keep her warm,” Carla said, punching Kyle in the arm. Kyle and Charlotte both blushed.

  Brendan came out of the house and ran over to the fire pit.

  “Shit, Brendan,” Carla said, laughing. “You look like a Starbucks barista.”

  “What?” Brendan said, looking at his black shoes, pants, t-shirt, and a black knit cap to cover his blonde hair. “I’m trying to look like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.”

  “You guys spend too much time playing with your bots,” Carla said. “Now, let’s get going.”

  Brendan led the way to the dock and climbed onto the Boston Whaler. He helped Charlotte and Carla climb on board then asked Kyle to untie the bow and stern lines. Kyle did what he told him to do and jumped onto the boat.

  While Brendan searched in the center dashboard for the keys, Kyle and Charlotte sat down on the seat in the bow. Brendan tried to start the engine, but it coughed out a bit of smoke.

  “Are you a complete moron?” Carla said. “We’re drifting away from the dock.”

  Kyle looked out and saw the dock twenty feet away.

  Charlotte grabbed Kyle’s hand. “I’m getting nervous.”

  Carla reached down inside the console, turned on the gas pump, then turned the key. The engine roared to life. “You always start the engine before you untie the lines, you idiot,” Carla said.

  “I know,” Brendan said. “I forgot.”

  “I thought you said your family went boating all the time?”

  “We used to. It’s been a while since we’ve taken the boat out, and my dad always drives.”

  Brendan took the wheel back and cruised out of the harbor. When they cleared the Nob, he gunned the engine.

  The small boat skimmed over the calm evening waters. The blowing wind was chilly, and Charlotte snuggled up close to Kyle. He could tell she was cold, so he pulled off his hoodie and wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled at him and snuggled even closer. Kyle took the hint and wrapped his arms around her.

  “This is fun,” Charlotte said. “I’m glad I came with you. You make me feel safe.”

  “There’s no reason to feel scared. There’s nothing on the island, and I’m sure that video was fake. We’ll go out and play with the bots for a few minutes and come back.”

  “You’re so nice to me,” Charlotte said, staring into Kyle’s eyes. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

  Kyle closed his eyes and leaned forward to kiss her. Then the boat jerked, sending Kyle and Charlotte sprawling to the floor.

  Kyle found himself lying on his back with Charlotte’s feet in his face. He heard Charlotte screaming. “You’re such a jerk!” Then she jumped up and punched Brendan in the arm. Carla was laughing so hard. She couldn’t breathe.

  Kyle realized what happened. When Brendan saw Kyle try to kiss Charlotte, he yanked the wheel to the right, knocking them over. Now it was Kyle’s turn to punch Brendan. But as Kyle got up off the deck, Brendan slowed the boat down. They were approaching the island.

  Brendan pulled up to an ancient, rickety-looking boathouse. It had a partially collapsed roof and moss growing on the outside of the rotting shingles. Carla placed one foot on the dock, then gave a thumbs up.

  “The boathouse looks like it’s going to fall any moment,” Carla said. “But the dock is safe.”

  Brendan maneuvered the small boat closer to the dock, and Carla jumped off.

  “Kyle, throw me the bowline,” Carla said.

  Kyle threw her the line and watched as she tied it off on a rusty deck cleat.

  Brendan handed Kyle the backpack then jumped onto the dock.

  “Okay, Charlotte, you can go next,” Kyle said. “Brendan will help you get off.”

  Brendan held his hand out
to Charlotte, but she didn’t move.

  “Charlotte, come on,” Carla said. “It’s getting late.”

  “I thought you said the island was empty. I’m… scared,” Charlotte said. “I don’t want to go.”

  “What’s the matter?” Kyle said. “I told you I’d take care of you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “No, you’re playing a practical joke on me. It’s a prank. I’m not going with you. I’m staying on the boat.”

  Kyle realized there was something wrong. The cute girl he almost kissed was changing in front of his eyes. Charlotte’s eyes darted back and forth. She wrung her hands and chewed at her fingernails.

  “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

  Charlotte backed away from him until she was up against the center console. She swung her head back and forth, looking to escape.

  “Kyle, I… I… I want to go home. Take me home.”

  Kyle reached out with his hand out to touch her shoulder.

  “No!” She screamed, batting his hand away from her. “No! No! Leave me alone. I want to go home. Get me away from here. I can’t stay!”

  Charlotte put her hands up against her face and tried to wipe away the tears. She slid down against the center console and pulled her knees up against her chest. Kyle sat down on the deck of the boat with her.

  “Can you tell me why you’re so scared?”

  Charlotte shook her head.

  “Is it the dark?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Are you scared to get left alone?”

  She looked at him. Then nodded.

  “I’m here with you. You don’t have to go inside the mansion. We’ll stay outside. My bots will go inside. You’ll get to see what they see. It will be fun.”

  “We don’t have to go inside?”

  “That’s right. You don’t have to go into the mansion. I’ll stay with you.”

  “Okay, I guess. I’ll go.”

  Kyle stood up and held out his hands. Charlotte reached out and grabbed them, and pulled herself to her feet.

  She walked over to the side of the boat, then stopped.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “They’re not here.”

  “What do you mean they’re not here? Who’s not here?”