The Thieves of Legend

by Richard Doetsch

  KC arrived at the ticket counter and with a simple nod said, “Good afternoon, I have a flight to London via Germany.” KC handed over her passport.

  “I see you’ve only booked one way,” the woman behind the counter said as she looked at her computer monitor. “Will you be returning?”

  KC paused. The woman had inadvertently verbalized what she had been debating for the last few hours. She finally looked at the woman with sad eyes and said, “I’m not sure.”

  The atmosphere in the terminal was one of controlled chaos. People pushed and shoved and obnoxiously tossed about their large suitcases and overstuffed carry-ons. KC’s bag was small and light. She had packed quickly: a pair of pants, a skirt, a blouse and some shoes, her sneakers, running gear, and a bathing suit. A simple carry-on over her shoulder was all she needed. In her past life she had grown accustomed to traveling light, formulating a short, simple checklist of essentials no matter how long her journey or how far it took her. She never bothered with toiletries, brushes, or hair dryers; she would simply purchase her essentials when she arrived at her destination. Not one for makeup, she only really needed eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss; her good genes took care of the rest.

  Amid the hustle and bustle in the busy airport, she didn’t notice the woman with short black hair behind her who watched her every move.

  MICHAEL SAT IN the interrogation room, staring at Lucas, doing everything he could do to restrain himself from diving across the table. The files on the table, the proverbial cards laid out before him, held his fate. They were proof of his past, deeds he had done for others, crimes committed to save lives, to save loved ones.

  But now his past deeds and sacrifices were being used against him to force his hand.

  “You killed a man to entrap me?”

  Lucas said nothing.

  “It never occurred to you to play the blackmail card before you killed that kid?”

  “I didn’t kill that kid, a stranger did… and you helped. I’m only here talking to you because this is a matter of national security,” Lucas said, as if he truly believed it. “The feds can take the case over, pull jurisdictional rank, and I can make it go away, or…” Lucas laid his hands on the stack of files and pushed them toward Michael. “Or I can just give these to the New York City homicide detectives who are itching to get in here and investigate the death of that kid.”

  Though Michael was in an interrogation room, he felt he might as well have already been sitting in prison with a thirty-year sentence ahead of him.

  “You do this one job for us and I’ll make today’s event disappear along with these.” Lucas patted the files.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game,” Michael said softly.

  “There are many prices for freedom, Mr. St. Pierre, both for you and for this country.”

  “And this is the way you operate?” Michael could barely contain his anger. “You killed an innocent kid.”

  “Who said he was innocent?”

  “How do you know I won’t lawyer up and bury you? The press would have a field day with a story like this. Rogue colonel, death in the streets, lady assassin.”

  “Sounds incredible, right?” Lucas said. “All you have, though, is a story. I have this.” Lucas patted the stack of files and then pulled out an iPad. “I figured you might not want to play this game, as foolish as you would be not to trade one simple act for the rest of your life…”

  Lucas ran his hands over the iPad, a video quickly coming to life. Quick-cut images of a woman walking through the terminal of an airport filled the screen: KC, alone, carrying a single bag.

  Michael’s heart was instantly in his throat.

  “You may think otherwise, but I get no pleasure from this.” The colonel pulled out a file, pushing it toward Michael. It was marked in red ink: Katherine Colleen Ryan. Michael didn’t need to open it to know that it contained a bio and “job experience” on KC similar to the one that the colonel possessed on him.

  Michael’s eyes were quickly pulled back to the image. Despite the crowds, the sea of people all running to escape New York, Michael could see KC within the masses. And with all of the emotions coursing through his body, he felt a pang in his heart, a regret for things he’d said… and left unsaid. And he wondered if he’d ever see her again. But he was quickly pulled back to the moment as Lucas paused the video.

  “You’re going to take a trip. If you need resources, I’ll acquire them for you. If you need assistance, I will provide that, too. Just tell me what you require.”

  “Require for what?” Michael hated himself for even asking the question.

  “There is a box.”

  “What kind of box?”

  “Not large, gun-metal gray, about eighteen inches square, like a safety-deposit box.”

  “In a bank?” Michael had never robbed a bank and had no intention of doing so now.

  “No, though the box is in a vault in a location whose security is far greater than any bank’s.”

  “You said Macau. You can’t conduct a military operation in China.”

  “No, we can’t. It would greatly disturb the fragile relationship our government has with the country. Imagine the global implications. Imagine how Americans would react if the Chinese military were to conduct an assault on one of our cultural centers, one of our icons.”

  “There are no cultural icons in Macau.”

  “On the contrary, the largest—short of the Great Wall and the Forbidden City—and most profitable structure in all of China is there, and I need you to penetrate its security. I need you to retrieve this box before it falls into anyone else’s hands.”

  “Or what, the world will end?” Michael said, his voice filled with derision.

  “The balance of power in the world is more precarious now than it has ever been. The United States’ lone superpower status is being challenged from all sides. Its greatness is in danger because of people like you who think that freedom is free, that the world owes you something… . Our fate hangs in the balance, and it takes just one event to push it down a path of no return.”

  Michael saw the fervency in Lucas’s eyes, a fanaticism just short of madness.

  He met his gaze and simply said, “No.”

  Lucas smiled. His hand moved back to the iPad and the image of KC came back to life.

  “You remember Annie?” Lucas said, nodding at the iPad.

  Michael had no idea what he was talking about, but a fear rose in him as he continued to watch the video. He could see KC’s lips moving as she conversed with the airline employees, could see her turn—and then suddenly, there she was. Annie, her short black hair slicked back like that of a gangster from the forties, giving her the appearance of a rock star entering the stage, of someone who could grace the cover of Vogue. Michael continued to watch the screen. He watched as she smiled at KC, as KC unknowingly smiled back, a few words and nods were exchanged, and they fell into easy conversation, all surreal in the silent video.

  Michael remembered the woman’s smile, the same smile she’d given him when he’d stepped into the elevator—he felt such shame now for falling into her trap. The expression in her dark, glinting eyes as she engaged KC in conversation was the same expression he’d seen four hours ago, when she’d pulled the trigger, killing the young man.

  The video suddenly paused.

  “You will be leaving tomorrow, 9:00 a.m., Terminal A, Westchester Airport; we will provide you with the details of the mission once you’re airborne. Gather what you need and don’t be late. You’ve only got five days.”

  “What happens in five days?”

  Lucas swiped his hand on the iPad. The video continued. KC and Annie now sat in an airline bar, sipping wine. As KC reached into her bag, searching for something, Annie turned and looked into the hidden camera, right into Michael’s eyes, as if she were standing right there in the room… and she smiled, cold, emotionless, deadly. The image of her froze.

  Michael stared back into Annie’s eyes; her
deadly intent was clear. He was trapped—free to roam, free to run, but held prisoner by his fear for KC.

  Lucas gathered up his files, placed the iPad atop them, and tucked them all under his arm. Then a thought seemed to hit him… he grabbed the iPad and passed it to Michael. The screen was still lit; Annie continued to stare at him. “Why don’t you keep this?”

  Lucas gave three sharp knocks to the door and seconds later it opened.

  With a military snap of his head, Lucas said to Michael, “You are free to go.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Hello again,” Annie said as she sat on the barstool next to KC in the rooftop bar. The runways were laid out before them, planes landing and taking off, one after the other.

  “Hi,” KC said with a nod as she sipped her water.

  “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” Annie said as she looked around at all the people. “You’re the only one that looks safe.”

  KC smiled as she noticed the men in the bar looking at them. “Of course. Did your friend’s flight arrive?” KC asked, referring to their brief conversation earlier at the ticket counter.

  “Flight’s delayed.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Annie turned to the bartender. “Could I get a white wine?”

  The bartender nodded as he quickly filled a glass and put it on the bar.

  “After the day I had,” Annie said as she sipped her wine, “I can justify a drink.”

  “I think when you fly you can justify anything. It makes dealing with these delays a little more bearable.”

  “Are you from England?” Annie asked, noting KC’s accent.

  “London, but I live here in New York.” KC caught herself, her response automatic.

  “Do you travel often?”

  “I’ve always had a bit of wanderlust, but I was hibernating for the last year.”

  “So where are you wandering off to?”

  “Germany, then a connection to London.”

  “Really? That’s an awkward way to go,” Annie said.

  “Last-minute. It was all I could get.”

  “I’m heading to Kent.”

  “Business or pleasure?”

  “A bit of both. I’m waiting for my associate to arrive, then we’re taking the corporate jet. You?”

  “Going home to see my sister.”

  “Family is a good thing.”

  “Sometimes family is what we need when the world gets too confusing.”

  “It must be nice,” Annie said, a touch of melancholy in her voice.

  “No family?”

  “Not really,” Annie said. “I bounced from foster home to foster home.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Do you have a big family?”

  “Ah, that would be no. Just my sister and me. But we’re enough for each other.”

  “I had a foster brother for a while, it was nice.”

  KC nodded. “My mother died when I was fifteen. My sister and I have been on our own ever since. It must have been hard to grow up in foster homes.”

  “No pity party.” Annie smiled. “It made me who I am. It made me strong, appreciative of the little things in life.”

  KC was familiar with the wall that grew around the heart of a child who had no parents.

  “Here’s to being self-made women.” KC hoisted her drink and cheered Annie.

  “To self-made women.” Annie clinked her glass in return.

  “What do you do?” KC asked.

  “Military consulting.”

  KC smiled, unable to contain her surprise.

  “I know. I don’t look the part. You should see me in fatigues. And what do you do?” Annie asked.

  “Not much,” KC said with feigned laughter in her voice.

  “You don’t look like someone who does ‘not much.’”

  “I was a consultant to the European Union,” KC said, mentioning her longtime cover job of choice.

  “Forgive me, but you look more like a model who’d appear on the cover of some fashion magazine.”

  KC tried not to blush. Michael had always praised her looks, something she had never experienced growing up; she had never gotten used to praise. “Thank you. I’m more the outdoors type: climbing, extreme skiing, BASE jumping; the more adrenaline-inducing sports.”

  Annie smiled a knowing smile. “That’s why I joined the military; I loved sports, adventure-type things, none of this softball stuff. I couldn’t sit behind a desk, and it’s pretty hard to make a living being an athlete without a team.”

  She looked away wistfully for a second, then turned back to KC. “Married?”

  KC held up her bare ring finger. “Always hoping. You?”

  “I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t believe that we need to stand before God to declare our intentions.” Annie paused. “And who’s to say that love lasts a lifetime? Hell, for me, it rarely lasts a month,” Annie said with a chuckle.

  “It makes it easier, though, for the children.”

  “Do you have kids?”

  “Always hoping on that, too. You?”

  “Can’t have any.”

  “Never say never.”

  “No, I mean I can’t have any,” Annie said, a touch of regret in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” KC thought her eyes said differently. “If you really knew me, you’d understand: I wouldn’t make a very good mother anyway. I enjoy what I do too much.”

  KC looked up at the departure board and her heart sank. Her flight was no longer delayed, it was canceled.

  Annie followed her line of sight. “Oh, no.”

  KC stood and picked up her bag.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Annie offered. “It’s America’s treat, taxpayers’ money hard at work. Only two of us on a sixteen-seater.”

  “Thank you, but I’d better go find another flight.”

  “We both know that’s not going to be possible until tomorrow. We’re happy to help you out.”

  “No, that’s okay.” KC had no problem helping others, she just had an issue with people helping her. But KC began to realize if she didn’t find another flight she would have to go home to Michael. And as much as she might have wanted to, her anger at him had yet to abate. She really needed to figure out where she was going, not just now, but with her life.

  “I insist.” Annie pressed her. “Kent is less than a two-hour drive to London. At the rate you’re going, you might never get there. You don’t want to disappoint your sister, do you?”

  A tall man with buzz-cut black hair walked into the bar. He carried a green duffel over his broad shoulders, and his dark eyes scanned the room. He saw Annie and walked over to her.

  “Rick Vajos,” Annie said, “this is KC.”

  Rick nodded with a half-smile to KC. “We’re fueled and ready, wheels up in twenty.”

  Annie turned to KC. “Please, come with us. You won’t get a flight till morning, which means you won’t arrive in London until tomorrow night at best. And have you thought about where you’ll sleep tonight? The terminal floor doesn’t look very comfortable.”

  KC looked up at the departure board as if somehow her flight would magically be uncanceled. And as she looked around, she wondered if she was doing the right thing, leaving Michael. The pain in her heart was telling her to stay, but… her mind was filled with doubt.

  And this woman, there was something about her—she could feel a connection, the shared background of orphans. But there was something else; she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  THEY WALKED ACROSS the tarmac to the Bombardier jet that sat ready, the engines in a slow whine. KC followed Annie up the rolling stairs and entered the business jet to find a luxurious cabin that could have held at least sixteen passengers.

  “Doesn’t look very military.”

  “No,” Annie said as she stowed her bag in the front closet. “Though our pilot is, as is our jet’s call sign. It kind of sets tongues a-wagging when a military jet arrive
s. So these just leave the factory painted white.”

  Rick stored his green duffel, and without a word sat in one of the large white leather seats, reclined, and closed his eyes. KC and Annie sat across the aisle from each other. “Anything to eat or drink?”

  “No, thank you,” KC said as she took a seat.

  As the door closed and the cabin became pressurized, KC couldn’t help feeling as if she was somehow trapped, as if she had just made a foolish mistake.

  PETE WILLIAMSON, A Navy pilot in full dress uniform, poked his head out of the cockpit and greeted them with a curt nod of his head. He did not know his passengers, he rarely did, as so many times their missions were above his security clearance. While he had seldom questioned his destination or what his passengers were doing, today was a bit different. The two women were not what he had expected. Annie Joss and her military companion, Rick Vajos, were cleared through military intelligence; he had been informed they would be traveling with a third passenger, an Englishwoman. But who she was and how she was connected to Joss and Vajos were things he would probably never know.

  Williamson closed the cockpit door, strapped himself into his seat. Revving the engines, he dialed in their heading. He had overheard the two women discussing something about Kent. He hadn’t been there in years; it brought back a taste of warm beer and undercooked fish and chips. He had no desire to return there and was thankful that it was not their destination; the heading he entered into the computer was far more appealing. He had never been there and the city had no connection to the U.S. military that he knew of.

  As they climbed to twenty-five thousand feet, he wondered what the two women could possibly be planning to do in the ancient Spanish city of Granada.