Chosen

by Denise Grover Swank

  He turned his attention to the apartment. Streamlined contemporary furniture decorated the living room. A large flat screen television hung on the wall. The living area was open to a kitchen filled with dark wood cabinets, granite counter tops, and stainless steel appliances. Will suspected the appliances were for show. Any one rich enough to stay here was unlikely to use them. A bowl of fruit sat on the counter and he grabbed an apple and took a bite, surprised at his sudden hunger.

  Will moved to the double window. The Black Hills loomed in the distance, confirming they were in South Dakota. Was it her true ending place or a handoff location? He never cared to ask before.

  He walked down a hallway past a guest room and into the master bedroom. The bed reminded him of his exhaustion and he promised himself a nap after his shower. The bathroom was marble encased, of course. He turned on the shower to warm up the water, switching on the full body sprayers. So this was how the rich lived.

  Will hardly recognized himself behind three days’ beard growth. He looked like he’d been to hell and back, and he supposed he had. When he finished shaving and showering, he crawled in the bed naked under a down quilt, making sure he set the alarm. He drifted off to sleep, in spite of his worry about Emma. His worry and his guilt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The shrill of an alarm woke Will from a deep sleep. He put on a pair of khaki pants and a long-sleeve shirt he found in the fully stocked closet. His escort arrived a few minutes later, taking him to the building’s top level and exiting the elevator into a long hallway similar to the one on his floor. Will hid his disgust at the opulence displayed. Rich people always annoyed him with their greed and need to outdo one another. His escort took him into a large conference room with wall-to-wall windows overlooking the Black Hills. The view was impressive, but Will was more interested in the three suits sitting at the massive table before him.

  “Mr. Davenport. Please join us.” Kramer stood up and gestured to a seat across from the three men. “But first, are you hungry? Help yourself to some brunch.” A small buffet was set up along the wall.

  “No, thanks, I’ll just have some coffee.” Will poured himself a cup and sat down. “I have to say, gentlemen, this isn’t how I’m used to doing things. Something tells me this isn’t ordinary business.”

  “Very perceptive, Mr. Davenport. But we knew you were bright when we hired you.” Kramer sat in the middle. He was flanked on his right by a middle-aged man, dark haired with touches of gray and crow’s feet around his eyes. He leaned an elbow on the table and eyed Will with wariness. On Kramer’s left sat a younger man with blond hair and a tan that didn’t look like it came from working outside in the sun. He reminded Will of a model and his apparent disinterest made him wonder why he was there at all.

  Kramer fingered the edges of a file in front of him as he spoke. “Tell us about your encounter with the people who attacked you.”

  “Which time?”

  Kramer’s eyebrows raised and he rested his elbows on the table. “You encountered them more than once?”

  “Counting the night I obtained your guest?” Will used Kramer’s word for Emma. “I believe there were four encounters.”

  All three men appeared surprised. Will noticed the younger one suddenly showed an interest in the conversation.

  Will pushed his chair back from the table and crossed his legs. “I find it interesting that you haven’t asked about the boy.”

  “The boy isn’t our concern.” Kramer said, but the younger man’s chin lifted and his eyes narrowed, suggesting he had a different opinion.

  Will stared directly at Mr. GQ and raised an eyebrow. “He was killed by the men following us.”

  The young man’s eyes widened.

  Kramer shrugged. “He’s no concern to us.”

  “But this doesn’t fit.” The man to his right interjected. “This isn't part of the plan.”

  Kramer shifted his attention to the middle-aged man. “John, we’ll discuss this in a moment.”

  “Plan? What plan?” Will asked.

  Kramer turned back to Will, leaning back in his chair. “All in good time, Mr. Davenport. Your questions will be answered. You say the boy was killed. How did this happen?”

  “Before I start story time, how about you tell me why you neglected to mention that I’d be dealing with truckloads of gunmen?”

  Sighing, Kramer folded his hands together. “Honestly, Mr. Davenport, we never expected you to encounter them at all. Apparently they are more persistent than we expected, although I agree with John. For them to kill the boy is inconsistent with their primary objective.”

  “You mean you think they would have kidnapped him?”

  “No, more like retained him.”

  “Like you have retained your guest?”

  He shrugged. “In a matter of speaking. How do you know he was killed?”

  “His mother and I were out of the truck when we were ambushed. We took cover in the trees along the road and the truck exploded.”

  “So you didn’t see him actually die?”

  Will paused and sipped his coffee as he watched the younger man. He tried to look unaffected by the conversation, but his face had lost some of its color. Will set the cup down on the table. “No, but I didn’t see him get out either.”

  “This makes no sense,” John said, turning to Kramer. “They would never kill him. Davenport lies.”

  Will shrugged and pretended to be bored with the conversation. “Ask his mother if you like. We saw the truck explode and then we were chased into the forest where they tried to kill us.”

  “You mean kill you?” John asked.

  “No, the next time we encountered them one of them made it very clear that Emma was wanted dead. He said there was a bounty on her head. Her very dead head.”

  “That makes more sense, I can see why they would want her dead. But I don’t believe the boy’s dead. They wanted him alive for years.” John calmed down as he reasoned with himself. The younger man’s color had returned to his face. Will was no closer to comprehending any of it. He understood why someone would want Jake, but why Emma?

  “They almost succeeded in killing her,” Kramer stated. Will knew it was a question.

  “The odds were stacked against us. Eight to one, the one being me.”

  “But you escaped unscathed,” the young man said with a derisive tone. He narrowed his gaze at Will, making no attempt to hide his scorn.

  Will turned his full attention to the man, their eyes locking. Will’s cold, hard stare finally made the man look away. “As I said before, a little advance notice of our party guests would have been nice. I could have planned more accordingly. As it was, I did what I could with what I had.”

  “What took you so long to get here?” the young man asked with a sneer. “Your deadline was yesterday.”

  “As I mentioned before, we were detained. After the truck exploded, we were chased into the woods and we got lost. She wasn’t in much shape to travel, considering she just watched her son die in an explosion.”

  “And it took you two days to get out?”

  “We were on foot, unarmed at that point, lost in the woods. Your guest was incoherent with grief. We weren’t traveling very quickly.”

  “How did you fight off eight men if you were unarmed?”

  Will leaned forward with his elbows on the table, glaring at the younger man. “Is there a point to this conversation? Because last time I checked, I was hired to deliver her alive, which I did.” Will leaned back again and shrugged. “Sure, she’s slightly damaged, but after what we went through, you’re lucky you got only slightly damaged.”

  “But you didn’t deliver her on time.” The young man’s eyes narrowed on Will. “A lot of good she does us now.” He turned to Kramer, curling his upper lip. “I still say she’s not the one.”

  “Alex,” Kramer said, his voice stern. “Many disagree with you. Even our opposition believes she is.”

  Will watched Alex out of the cor
ner of his eye. He was a complete asshole but something else about him grated on Will.

  “You were told to have her delivered by the fourth day,” Alex said. “Today is the fifth. Even if it wasn’t too late it would be most difficult given her condition.”

  “What would be most difficult?” Will asked, his instincts screaming something was off.

  “Alex,” Kramer interrupted. “I’ve told you time and time again that you can’t force destiny. You can only try to harness your side to it.”

  “And as always Scott, we shall agree to disagree. We can’t lie around waiting for things to happen. Sometimes we have to make them happen. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had listened to me sooner.”

  “Alex…”

  Alex crossed his arms and scowled like a petulant child. Will would have found him amusing if he weren’t so potentially dangerous to Emma.

  “So you say I’ve delivered her too late,” Will said. “If she’s too late, then why have me deliver her at all?”

  “Because not all of us fall under Alex’s philosophy,” Kramer said. “We shall simply wait.”

  “Wait?” Alex spit out in disgust. “That’s all you do Scott, is wait. Waiting is what has us in this predicament.”

  “Alex, no one else sees a predicament but you.”

  “Again, I ask is there a point to this conversation?” Will interrupted. “She’s here a day late and I’m more than a dollar short.”

  “If I have anything to say about it, you won’t be paid at all,” Alex said.

  “Alex,” A disarming smile lifted the corners of Will’s mouth and his eyes held Alex with a razor-sharp focus. “I did not just go to hell and back to not be paid. However, you are correct. I did not meet your deadline. So if you choose to not pay me, I understand, but I will be taking your guest with me when I leave.”

  “Now, now,” Kramer lifted his hands and patted the air. “This is nonsense. Mr. Davenport, you will most definitely be paid. The assignment turned out to be more than we expected which brings me to our next topic.” He paused and opened the folder in front of him. “I told you this assignment was also a test, which, of course, you passed.” He glanced up from the folder, a grim look on his face. “Things are changing.”

  Will felt the air around him turn cold. The mark on his arm grew uncomfortably warm as apprehension spread like a choking vine.

  Kramer didn’t seem to notice. “We are entering a new, unprecedented era. We find ourselves in need of associates with a different sort of skill sets than we are used to having at our immediate disposal. Skill sets you possess.” Kramer looked down at the file. “William Marcus Davenport. Age: Thirty-two. Born: Kansas City, Missouri. Profession: Mercenary.”

  “Mercenary has such negative connotations,” Will said with a sarcastic tone. “I prefer freelance security.”

  “University of Missouri, Bachelors’ degree in history, summa cum laude.”

  “This blast from the past have a point?”

  “Bear with me. You should be proud of these accomplishments.”

  “Yeah, that stellar history degree has been extremely helpful with my career choice.”

  “U.S. Marine Corp, Recon Unit, served seven years, rank E-6, dishonorable discharge, reason classified.”

  “Yeah, I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you,” Will smirked. He really didn’t like where this was headed.

  Kramer smiled. “Lucky for us we have contacts who can obtain such information.” He pulled a pair of glasses from inside his suit jacket and placed them on his nose. “Looks like a mission went bad, disobeying direct orders from a superior, a school full of children was involved.” His face lifted as he peered over the top of his glasses at Will. “Does any of this sound familiar, Mr. Davenport?”

  Will gripped his coffee cup, wondering how it didn’t break from the pressure. If Emma weren’t depending on him, he’d punch this guy and walk out. Instead, his cocky grin lifted one corner of his mouth and he winked. “Like I said, I’d have to kill you. Fortunately for you, I’ve reached my quota for the week.”

  “Were you given a direct order to not infiltrate the school?”

  Will leaned back in his chair in a casual pose that belied his demeanor. “Tell me again why we’re having this discussion?”

  Kramer removed his glasses, setting them on the table. “I assure you, Mr. Davenport, it will be well worth your time.”

  “I had a decorated military history before the incident as well as an interesting and widely varied professional career since. Isn’t that why you hired me, Mr. Kramer? I see no benefit to discussing it.”

  Kramer sat back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and tapping his index fingers together. “I told you earlier I believe you are a man who sees what he wants and doesn’t let things get in his way. Before your incident you had a history of ruthlessness. Was this the case in the incident involving the school?”

  Inwardly, Will squirmed at the memory. He had spent the last three years doing his best to forget it. “I was given intelligence that led me to believe a high-ranking terrorist official was located on the premises. I believed we had the element of surprise on our side. I believed we could get in, capture him and get out without civilian casualties. I was wrong.” He spoke with a casualness that surprised him. A few sentences of explanation that sounded so logical, so justified. If only it quieted the screams haunting his memories.

  “And you were court-martialed?”

  He sighed. This was pointless. “You have all of this information. What are you getting at?”

  “Did you give any thought to the fact that you were disobeying direct orders?”

  Will’s face hardened. “I believed the benefits outweighed the risks.”

  “Excellent.” Kramer’s face beamed.

  Will raised his eyebrows. “Excellent? Excellent that dozens of kids were killed?”

  “No, of course the loss of the children’s lives was most unfortunate, but did you obtain your suspect?”

  “Yes.”

  “You saw your objective and you went after it. That is exactly the type of man we are looking for. We need someone to think bigger than the rules. We need him to consider the objective and to go after them, no matter what the cost. The end justifies the means.”

  “Even if forty kids lost their lives?”

  “Your objective was achieved. How many men, women and children would your suspect have killed? Twenty? Fifty? One hundred? Thousands?”

  Will shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m deadly serious.” The glint in Kramer’s eye told Will he was. “We believe your skills will be a benefit to our organization.”

  “You’re telling me that you want to hire me because I’m responsible for burning up a bunch of kids? What kind of organization do you run?” Will felt nauseated. It was bad enough he committed such a heinous act, now this guy applauded it. His skin crawled knowing these same people wanted Emma, for a reason he still didn’t comprehend.

  “One you want to work for,” Kramer said with pride. “Our director will be arriving this evening to meet our guest. He will want to meet you as well and he'll share the details of your employment opportunity. I think we’re done here.”

  Kramer closed the file, but Alex put his hand down on the table. “Not yet. I want to know what took him so long to bring her here.”

  Kramer turned to Alex. “That was already resolved.

  “Not to my satisfaction.” Alex drummed the table top with his fingers.

  Will raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “It’s what, a two-day drive from Texas to South Dakota? You arrive in five days. The math doesn’t add up, but then again, you were a history major. Maybe math isn’t your thing.”

  Will wouldn’t mind ripping this guy’s head off and it looked like a pretty simple task. But outwardly, he appeared unperturbed. “Well, Alex, we had to make a few detours. You know what those are, right? When you can’t go the way you’r
e supposed to because something blocks your path? Yeah, well that just so happened to be a bunch of SUVs full of men with M16s. I was told you wanted your delivery alive so I did my best to ensure that happened. That meant hiding, sometimes backtracking and several times it meant actual gun battles. All of this added up to a few extra days. My apologies.”

  Alex didn’t look appeased, but remained silent.

  Kramer cleared his throat. “Mr. Davenport, I’m sure you’re tired after the last few days so we'll have you escorted back to your apartment. I will let you know when you can expect to meet with Mr. Warren.”

  Will walked out of the room, his thoughts racing. Emma was deemed necessary, yet Alex didn’t think she was the one. What did that mean and did it have anything to do with the marks on her shoulder? What would happen if Alex found out about them?

  Alex was dangerous.

  Worrying was wasted energy, yet his mind refused to listen and it spread like a cancer, eating through the neat little container he tried to contain it in. He wanted to chuck it all and go to Emma, to know that she was safe. But he’d just have to wait.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Emma woke to searing pain in her leg. Her eyes flew open in alarm and realized she was in a hospital bed. She turned her head to scan the room. A nurse sat on a stool in the corner of the room, writing on a chart. An IV pole hung at the top of the bed, with several bags attached.

  “Where’s Will?” she asked, her voice a whisper from her scratchy throat.

  The young woman glanced up from the chart with a smile. “Oh, you’re awake.” Putting down the pen, she walked over and put her stethoscope buds in her ears. “Are you in pain?” She placed the cold metal end on Emma’s chest.

  “My leg burns,” Emma moaned and reached down, but the nurse grabbed her hand.

  “That’s normal. I can give you more pain medicine. Don't touch it, you don't want to rip out your stitches.”

  “Where’s Will?”

  The nurse took the stethoscope out of her ears and wrote something on the chart. “Who?”