Headhunters

by Charlie Cole

  “I’m done. I’m out.”

  Kendrick looked at me, a bit taken aback.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m resigning from Blackthorn.”

  Kendrick listened to me and I could see him processing every word, everything I’d said and everything I hadn’t. Then I saw him look across at the tree line and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I had a moment earlier.

  “I just don’t have it in me anymore, Randall. I can’t.”

  “Blackthorn is not a country club. We’re not a bureaucracy that you retire from. We protect this country,” Kendrick said. I’d heard these words before, but they still rang true. We’d been doing the right thing. The right thing for the country. The right thing for us. But not the right thing for my family.

  “I need to honor my wife’s memory the same way that you do,” I said quietly.

  Kendrick’s head rocked back as if I’d just slapped him and I wondered if my words had been too harsh. We rarely spoke of Rose now. We just did our job. And we spoke of the necessary sacrifices we needed to make to keep this country safe. Kendrick’s eyes came back and settled on me.

  “Is your decision final? No way I can talk you out of it?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not, my friend. My kids need me.”

  Kendrick nodded.

  “What will you do?” he asked.

  “Find a new town. A new job. Away from here, all of this.”

  He nodded again.

  “Headhunters never die, Simon. They just find different heads to hunt.”

  He looked at me and his creased face broke into a smile. He extended a weathered hand.

  “Good luck to you, son.”

  I smiled and shook it.

  ***

  I let myself into the house. I hung up the keys and kicked off my shoes. I padded through the house to the kids’ rooms. David was snoring away, his blanket twisted around his body. I straightened him out and covered him up. Mel was sleeping quietly, her breathing just a soft purr. My sweet girl.

  I crossed the hall to the bathroom. I stepped inside, flicked on the light and closed the door behind me, locking it. I reached into the pocket of my coat and pulled out the Glock pistol. My hand shook as I held it. What the hell was I doing? What had I planned to do with this damn thing? Shoot my oldest and best friend?

  “Simon?” I heard Alaina’s voice through the bathroom door. It jarred me, making me flinch at the sound of her voice.

  “Just a second. I’ll be right out.”

  “I’m going to pop some popcorn. Do you want some?” Her voice was light and non-stressed. She had no idea what I was doing. I swallowed hard and answered.

  “Sure. That’d be great. I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay!” she replied and a second later I heard the microwave start.

  I turned back to the mirror and stared at my reflection. Yes, in truth, I was prepared to kill Kendrick if that’s what it took to protect my family. He was my friend and I trusted him implicitly, but Kendrick believed in national security above all else. If I wasn’t part of the solution… I didn’t know what that made me to him.

  I ejected the magazine out of the Glock and the dull black magazine that held the brass shells slid out smoothly. I dropped the mag in my coat pocket and then racked the slide, so that the shell in the chamber was ejected into my hand. I locked the slide open and dropped the bullet and the empty handgun into my coat pockets.

  I was going to kill my best friend, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and tried to discern what was going on behind my own eyes. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell had I become? Then I turned and vomited in the toilet.

  Chapter Three

  I’m not proud of the way that I handled Claire’s death. In retrospect, like anything else, I saw my mistakes. I saw them coming like an 18-wheeler barreling down the road at me, getting bigger, looming larger, the sound of the warning horn screaming in my ears. I saw my mistakes coming, but that doesn’t mean that I did a damn thing to get out of the way.

  A week after the funeral, I slipped out of the house one night and went for a drive in my car. I’d bought a Volvo S80. It was a big beast of a car. Safe. I took it out along some winding roads, not really knowing where I was going at first and yet managing to end up exactly where I knew I would at the same time. I pulled to a stop outside the cemetery, parked the car and began walking.

  I’d only been to Claire’s grave once before, but I found it with very little trouble. One of the mixed blessings of having a near photographic memory, you can never forget some things. No matter how hard you try. I’d been walking for five minutes when I stopped for a moment and looked about me. I stood in a field of gravestones, alone, under the darkness of night. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the bottle of scotch still in the paper bag from the liquor store. I crumpled the bag and shoved it back into my pocket. I twisted the top off the scotch and took a deep pull on it, the liquid burning my throat, like fire through my chest, making my eyes water. I screwed the top back on and kept walking.

  I found Claire’s headstone. I brushed the leaves off of it. I adjusted the flowers we’d left earlier in the week. I sat down and leaned against her headstone and took the bottle from my pocket and began to drink. Part of me knew that she wouldn’t want me to take things like this. Part of me wasn’t so sure.

  Suddenly, I saw a blinding light in front of me. It was fixed on me, not wavering, locking me in its path. I raised a hand to block the glare and saw someone walking toward me.

  “Who is it?” I called. My voice wavered more than I’d have liked and it was lost among the tombstones. The figure kept coming, coming closer. Visions flashed in my mind of a hundred late night horror movies of idiots like me who’d wandered into cemeteries only to be torn apart by some Hollywood ghoul. When the bony hand reached for me, I still screamed.

  I raised my arms to defend myself. The liquor had taken away my ability to stand quickly, maybe to even stand at all. The hand reached down, seized the bottle from me and pulled it away roughly. The hand withdrew and I could see the outline of the figure, tall and gaunt, a long coat hanging from his frame. He up-ended the bottle and let the scotch pour out on the ground. I tried to say something in protest, but the words caught in my throat.

  “Simon, don’t do this to yourself, son.”

  Randall. It was Randall Kendrick.

  Somehow, dealing with flesh-eating zombies seemed easier than dealing Kendrick right then. Exhaustion flooded my body and I slumped back and began to cry unashamed.

  “I miss her.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “Yes, I suppose it was.”

  The one thing about Kendrick I always liked was that he told you the truth. Sometimes it was his version of the truth, but he always laid it out there.

  “The thing of it is, son,” Kendrick continued, “Claire is gone. But you have those kids to think of now. They need their daddy. For better or worse, you’re it.”

  I sighed and looked up. Kendrick was squatting in front of me, his long bony legs bent so far out it nearly brought him down to my level.

  “You’ve got to do right by those kids.”

  “Where am I going to go? How am I going to do this?” I knew he was right. I knew he was right before I’d ever left home that night.

  Kendrick reached into his pocket and handed me a business card. I took it and stared at it, but couldn’t make my eyes work in the light.

  “Max Donovan,” Kendrick offered. “He runs a headhunter firm out of Chicago. He’s outside of Blackthorn. I met him a few years ago. We keep in touch. He’s expecting your call.”

  Chicago. Somehow that sounded right. Somewhere new. Away from the same old streets, the house, the memories. This was hope in a way. I’d been stuck in a rut. Bound for self-destruction without ever setting out to do it. I needed something fresh. I tried to say something, managed a nod.

  “Th-thank you, R
andall…”

  “Come on, son. Let’s get you home.”

  In my fog, I’d only started to put together that Randall had not come alone. Two agents stood behind him. I staggered forward, leaning on Kendrick for support. As we passed the agents, I caught a glimpse of them in the flashlight glow. They were the same two that had followed me that day after the funeral. I cursed to myself and hung my head low. It wasn’t an act. I was beaten. Done. I was no threat to them or to anyone. I only wanted to protect my kids. To get out of this life. To find something new. I had been so certain in that moment that I was free.

  Randall led me back to my car and helped me into the seat. I handed him the keys and he drove. My head lolled back, then over to rest on the cool window. I opened my eyes and could see in the side mirror that the agents’ car was following behind us. He drove me back to my doorstep and helped me get in the house.

  “Good night, Simon,” he said and then was gone. I kicked off my shoes at the door, not realizing then they were covered in mud. I walked through the house and sloughed off my coat in the hallway, just letting it fall in a pile. I continued on to my bedroom, closed the door and collapsed into bed. I fell hard into a dreamless sleep and didn’t wake until after 10 a.m. the next morning.

  ***

  I joined the kids for breakfast. Alaina had been keeping them busy, playing outside. I made a pot of coffee and watched them through the window. They would swing and chase each other and every so often, converge on Alaina to hug her. I checked the wall clock and realized that it was a little after 9 a.m. in Chicago.

  It took me a moment to find my coat, but Alaina had hung it up. I’d have to thank her later. I dug the business card out of my coat pocket. It was thick and tastefully done with a thin gold line along the border. I read the inscription:

  Max Donovan

  Donovan & Associates

  Below the name was a phone number. I grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed. A moment later, a voice came on.

  “Donovan & Associates.” It was a woman, young but businesslike.

  “Good morning. This is Simon Parks…” I began.

  “Yes, Mr. Parks. Mr. Donovan is expecting your call. I’ll put you right through.” Classical music came on the line while I was put on hold. I looked down at myself and closed my bathrobe. I rubbed the stubble on my chin and hoped that I was ready for this.

  “Simon Parks, how are you?” the voice on the other end of the line was a booming baritone, as if I was a prodigal son returning home.

  “Good,” I lied. “How are you?”

  “Fantastic! Randall told me all about you,” he said. Then his voice softened, “I’m truly sorry about your wife. Sorry for your loss.”

  It always made it worse when people felt the need to tell you they were sad for you. I understood the human condition. I knew that people often are compassionate toward one another. I just hated hearing their sympathies. More so, I hated myself for rejecting the kindness they were extending.

  “Thank you, sir,” I managed.

  “So, I hear you’re looking to make a change?” The question wasn’t flippant. It was intended to be a door of opportunity being opened. I should know. I’d been the one on the other side of the recruiting call many times.

  “I am. Seems to be the right thing to do. For the kids,” I added. Liar. It was for the kids, but it was for me as well. I saw Claire’s face everywhere I went. In every corner of the house, her touch was there.

  “Simon, Randall and I talked a bit about you. He took the liberty of forwarding your information to my office. Now, obviously, I’m keeping that in the strictest confidence. I trust that that’s okay with you?”

  Once I’d broken ties with Randall Kendrick, he seemed eager to push me out the door. That was fine with me. He’d cared enough to check on me the night before and to refer me to Donovan. I couldn’t fault him for it.

  “Of course.”

  “Good, good,” replied Donovan. “Based on your background, it looks like you’d make a fantastic addition to our team here. I’d like the opportunity to discuss that with you.”

  I wasn’t so sure that I wanted to come along that easily.

  “Mr. Donovan, I really—“

  “Please, call me ‘Max’.”

  “Max… there would be a significant cost to relocate my family and then the cost of living factor. I’m just not sure—”

  Donovan quoted a significant salary, more than what I was making at Blackthorn, plus bonuses and a generous relocation package.

  “You come highly recommended,” he told me. “I’m not being presumptuous when I say that. I truly think you’d be a great asset to our group. I’d like to fly you out for lunch. Let’s get together, shake hands like a couple of men and see if this would be a good match.”

  To be honest, I was hesitant. I could have easily taken a year off to clear my head. But part of me told me that wasn’t going to get the job done. I looked out the window and saw David and Melissa running, playing, hugging Alaina again. And just then Alaina looked back at me and smiled, shaking her head and waved. I waved back, smiling too.

  “I’ll come if I can bring my family, Max. I can’t leave them. Not right now.”

  “Totally understand, my friend,” his voice boomed. Max had a way of making you feel as if you’d been his hunting buddy forever. “I’ll have my assistant call you to set up the details.”

  I thanked him and rang off. The kids were coming in from outside.

  “Hey guys! Did you have fun?” I asked.

  “Yeah, we went on the slide and down the swing—” they both started in unison, David and Mel and then each told about their own adventures in the great backyard as if they’d just explored a forgotten rainforest. I couldn’t help but smile. I hugged them to me. I looked up and Alaina was standing in the doorway smiling.

  “Sleep okay?” she asked. I knew she knew.

  “Sorry,” I grimaced.

  She waved it off and smiled. She went to the cabinet and looked inside.

  “Who wants hot chocolate?” she asked.

  “Me! Me! Me!” they chorused.

  “Okay, guys! Go take off your boots—“

  “And wash your hands,” Alaina added.

  “And wash your hands,” I continued. They disappeared out of the kitchen to take care of their appointed tasks. “I knew that part.”

  Alaina smiled, “Of course you did.”

  “Alaina,” I said, and she looked up at me. “I’m sorry that I’ve been… difficult lately. Distracted.”

  “Oh…” she scoffed.

  “No, seriously,” I replied. “It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to the kids… it’s not right for me…”

  Alaina was looking at me then, her eyes big and brown and taking in every word I said.

  “It won’t happen again,” I said.

  She smiled, put her hand on my arm. “Good.”

  She grabbed the mugs of hot chocolate and placed them on the table.

  “Who wants marshmallows?” she called. In a flash the kids returned. David had washed his hands, but had somehow managed to get dirt on his forehead. Mel was clean and ready, but her hair looked to be in an impossible tangle from the wind outside. It occurred to me then, just how little time I’d spent with my kids, watching them, raising them, enjoying them.

  “Ok, kiddos,” I said. “How’d you like to go with me on a little trip?”

  Cheers all around. Alaina raised her eyebrows and smiled expectantly.

  “There’s a man in Chicago who’d like to talk to me about a job. And he’s agreed to fly us all out there and spend the night in a hotel. What do you think?”

  Cheers from the kids, followed by a million questions, then the suggestions that they pack, followed by an argument over whether or not they could bring toys.

  “All of us?” Alaina asked. I nodded.

  “I’d like you come. Please. It would mean a lot.”

  “Well. I don’t know… you know, I’ve got this thing…
” Alaina looked like she was agonizing over something. “OK, no, I’m kidding! I’d love to go!”

  ***

  The flight from Virginia to Chicago was an easy one. The kids were old enough to fly now and carry their own bags so that made everything easier. Alaina alternated between her iPod and coloring with the kids. In the meantime, I worried about everything. I hadn’t interviewed in years. Everything that I looked forward to, the new town, the new job felt like it was working against me. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t know the company as well as I wanted to. I’d researched them but there wasn’t a lot of information to be gained.

  We checked into the hotel rooms. Alaina had an adjoining room to ours, which I thought was best. They had decided to hit the pool right away. That would have made me nervous, except Alaina was a fully qualified lifeguard and certified in CPR. Claire had required it when she had interviewed for the nanny position.

  The kids changed quickly in that way that kids do. Clothes flying off and being tossed, like an explosion of children’s apparel. I was dressed for the interview in a conservative grey suit. I adjusted my tie in the mirror and checked my watch. Almost time to go. I’d hit the restroom and be on my way.

  I reached for the bathroom door, but it opened before I could touch it. Alaina had changed into her swimsuit in my bathroom. It was a yellow one-piece bathing suit and she was wrapping the towel around her waist. I’d never seen her dress that way before. Claire had told me about Alaina taking the kids swimming, but I’d never been home for it. Alaina flipped her curly hair back and saw me standing there.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed.

  I was immediately embarrassed.

  “I-I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I was just going to—” I cleared my throat. “OK, I’m going to go. You guys have fun. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”