Relentless Pursuit: A Kelly Maclean Novel

by Hawk, Nate

  Suddenly a black car pulled up with a driver and a man in sitting in back. The man was yelling to the others yet Kelly did not hear the voice. Maybe it was the bombs or the gunfire that had deafened him. Maybe it was seeing a world that he had not thought about himself existing in again. He realized that his work was done with the terror group and he knew not what would come next. He had not thought further ahead than the current moment, and he was surprised to be alive and in one piece. He glanced to the home that was nearly engulfed in flames for an adequate answer to the question ‘why?’. The burning home stared back untellingly. He glanced down at the rifle that was still smoking and stinking, yet he found no answer there, either.

  Owen and Angelo began pulling Kelly towards the awaiting car. Kelly saw their lips moving, Let’s go! but his mind was on pause and he couldn’t move his feet. His body ached and his arms were tired. He knew his foot was a mess again. He glanced at his rifle. Kelly unbuckled the black vest and allowed it to drop to his feet. He was gone to the world in a thousand yard stare and would have remained in that state had he not heard the noise.

  Sirens were getting closer then and their presence suddenly snapped Kelly out of his trance. The last thing he wanted was to be explaining his story to the German authorities. Kelly was trying to process the fact that the warfare had concluded and he was still alive. He had no idea what he was going to do. The other men were staring at him for an answer.

  “You OK? I thought we lost you there for a minute.”

  “I’m fine,” he said as he put up his hand to the others. “I’ll drive the BMW to the airport. I’ll leave it in the long-term parking and you guys can pick it up there.”

  They looked at him not understanding his desire to be alone but they didn’t have the time to argue.

  “OK Kelly,” Owen said offering his bloody hand in a gesture of friendship. “You could always come work with us you know,” he offered, thinking of the times that Kelly had saved his ass.

  “I’m going to take some time,” he said, inconclusively.

  Angelo said, “It’s been my pleasure,” in an effort to abandon any previous position of perceived hostility.

  He nodded Kelly’s hand and patted him on the back. Then the three men jumped into the car.

  Quinn said, “We went big, now let’s go the hell home boys!”

  Kelly wiped off his face and picked up his gear. He quickly climbed into the BMW and headed north. The PAG team headed south.

  He drove the BMW to the airport where he was happy to get rid of it. It had several bullet holes and it was a reminder of the events of the last two days and for him, the previous two months. He got a hotel near the airport where he ordered and consumed a whole pizza and then slept for twenty hours. When he woke up, he considered his visitors’ visa to the European Union that was good for eighty-seven more days. After checking out of the hotel, he purchased a backpack and a full complement of camping gear and clean clothes. He knew he would have to take it easy at first, as his foot healed up again. Though in the end, he knew a sore foot would hardly slow him down. Besides, he could deal with some physical discomfort. It was the emotional variety that was much more difficult. He single-handedly bore the full knowledge and guilt of what had actually happened that day in Boston. Most people thought it was random terrorism. He knew it was a carefully choreographed charade. The bombing was a product of a demented mastermind whom most in the world knew nothing about. Niko Plotnikov. Would the painful memories ever allow Kelly to move on?

  Kelly didn’t know. He had the framework of a plan, though. He attempted to leave it all behind as he began his own trek of healing, starting first towards Neuschwanstein Castle.

  ***

  The Immigration Agent (who informed his ISIS contact that Kelly had entered the EU) never saw it coming. He was a loose end that needed cleaned up. Kelly didn’t watch the short news clip the following week. It was deemed only of local importance to the inhabitants of Ankara, Turkey, so the broadcast area was small. Plus, Kelly wasn’t watching TV. Apparently, a Turkish immigration agent with a flawless record of duty to country and strong religious beliefs had mysteriously disappeared. It was later clear that the man had been murdered. “Senselessly,” the news anchor had touted, uncertain why such a tragedy had occurred. The autopsy would show that the victim was rendered unconscious by a blow to the head and then tossed into the Ankara River. Upon contact with the horribly polluted water, the motionless body sank to the depths of the sewage and industrial pollutants where he subsequently drowned. When the body did resurface downstream, an attempt was made to determine what exactly had happened. Unfortunately, any forensic effort to unmask his killers had proven to be inconclusive.

  ***

  Chapter 68

  A year later, a man entered mostly unnoticed into the far corner of the room, as the ceremony began. He was an attractive man, strong with the sinew and tone obtained from an active life and good nutrition. He seemed well rested, as he should have been, having spent nearly a year abroad. Neuschwanstein Castle had only been his first adventure. It was the opening act in his global search to escape it all. He knew he would never understand the ‘why’ of what had happened so he had chosen to escape. He had never returned to his job as a detective and instead had begun living a lifestyle of freedom with no responsibility. As he shuffled into the crowded area, he recognized three faces in the room that were breaking into unexpected smiles.

  Against the front wall, standing behind a podium, was CIA Director John O. Brennan. He had just gotten started with his annual speech, standing before the star-adorned CIA Memorial Wall. He was recognizing all of the individuals whose corresponding star signified their ultimate sacrifice to the Agency in which they worked and to the country that they loved.

  “Each of the 111 stars carved into the marble wall behind me is an expression of love, respect, and eternal devotion. Together, they silently testify to nearly seven decades of valor and dedication, virtue and sacrifice, all on behalf of our Republic. The constellation of stars is a powerful reminder that freedom comes at a very dear cost.”

  Kelly blended in well with other faces and personalities within the room. In some ways he felt like he was home. Not just home to his mother country after the year that he had spent abroad, but also home standing there with other operators and analysts that shared much in common with his view of the world and dedication to his people. He knew the Agency was an organization with an important purpose, which most of its members tried their level best to uphold. To Kelly, they were like-minded brothers and sisters.

  He made his way along the back wall. He moved towards a friend that he had not seen since he had left the US for Germany, a year prior. His friend had ultimately saved his life by asking a now mutual friend to keep an eye out for Kelly.

  “I thought that I might run into you here,” he said.

  “Run into me?” the person said with confusion, in a southern voice. “Why did you think that I’d be here?”

  “At first, I figured it was Steven Lynch that asked the PAG team to run me out of Germany.”

  Kelly smiled.

  “But I’ve had a year to think about it, so at some point I put it together.”

  “It’s so good to see you, Kelly,” Megan said.

  Kelly reached toward his friend in an offering of an empathetic hug. It was well received and reciprocated.

  “Your husband is one of those stars, isn’t he?” Kelly asked in understanding.

  Megan nodded her head yes and Kelly saw that she was fighting to hold back tears.

  “Even though it’s been almost a decade, it seems like yesterday. He was killed in the line of duty. It’s much more complicated than I explained to you at the hospital.”

  “It always is, isn’t it?” Kelly said understandingly.

  “Yes. But how did you know?”

  “It was your house and that surgical room that gave it away.”

  “So you did see that?” Megan asked.

 
“Yeah. I thought that you left the door open for me to figure it out.”

  Megan neither confirmed nor denied. Her intelligent eyes and smile suggested perhaps she had intended to do so.

  “I figure, since the Agency isn’t supposed to work within the United States, when it does and agents get hurt, they have places like yours scattered where they can get patched-up and recover. No paper trail that way.”

  Megan smiled again, impressed that he had figured it out.

  “That’s why you would disappear from the hospital for days at a time,” he added.

  Kelly figured that was probably why she was not married, either. It was too much to bring a man into. With operatives coming and going at all hours of the day and night, who would want to live with that? She put her arm around Kelly’s waist as they stood there. He glanced down and smiled while he embraced her shoulders. Then they listened as familiar names were called out.

  “Stan Lubensky was a very loyal and loving man, husband and father. He devoted his professional life to the Agency for nearly two and a half decades as an analyst and operator. He may be remembered most for his work in establishing and maintaining peace throughout Europe. The collapse of the Berlin Wall and the consequent fall of the Soviet Union led to much instability. Stan served with unprecedented determination and success during the world’s attempt to rebuild the Eastern European Nation States. The political landscape and stability that we enjoy today could not have been possible without such determination.”

  Kelly listened to the description of the man that he almost met. He had been murdered minutes before the two would have been acquainted, and was murdered by the man Kelly had been pursuing. Kelly heard a familiar voice within his head that begged of him, why him and not me? Kelly still hadn’t gotten a satisfying answer to the question and he knew there just wasn’t one. The CIA Director continued on.

  “Laura Banks provided the leadership and selfless sacrifice required for our nation’s achievement of victory. She dedicated both her personal life and career towards countless perilous assignments throughout multiple theaters circling the globe. She may perhaps be remembered most for her leadership role within the Political Action Group, where she supervised a team of agents, at times taking on an almost maternal role. She would have knowingly sacrificed her own life for any one of us in this room. Her dedication to protecting her agents from harm and establishing operating procedures that ensured their safety has forever shaped sections of the Agency’s protocol. Ultimately, she did give her life for her team and I know that she would do so again, if she could save another’s life.”

  Kelly met Angelo’s glance and he saw raw emotion on the operator’s face at the mention of Laura Banks. There was a brief and silent pause. The weather had been nice that day and the main doors to the atrium had been left open. Fresh air flowed unrestricted as a three-volley salute commenced outdoors. The seven men and women fired their rifles three times each as the report resonated in the room. Each volley was a painful reminder of the agents who had paid the ultimate price and of the empty void that they had left. Within the vastness of the Agency’s landscape, a bugler began the familiar notes of “Taps”. The room was silent other than a few uncontrollable sobs. Kelly didn’t look around as he had no desire to see more red, damp eyes. He’d already seen too many in his time. Most of the operator types wore dark sunglasses and blank facial expressions. Kelly just bowed his head. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Megan’s tears. They had been slowly collecting in her eyes but had finally crossed the threshold. As they began streaming down her face, Kelly offered her a white handkerchief. After the bugler finished playing the sad melody, the Director began to speak again.

  “We share your pride in them and what they achieved. We too know the measure of their strong character and generous spirit, and feel deeply privileged and grateful to have served with such selfless patriots.”

  The final phase of the ceremony was distributing four stars that matched the others on the wall. They were presented to that year’s fallen heroes’ next of kin. After more tears and uncontrollable sobbing, the official presentation concluded. The guests began moving around, breaking into smaller conversational groups. They offered memories of the deceased and support for their survivors.

  Owen was the third person that Kelly recognized that day. He and Angelo had come over towards Megan and Kelly. He gave Megan a strong embrace as Angelo offered a handshake to Kelly. Kelly noticed there was still some distance in Angelo’s behavior and he knew he would never quite understand it. Kelly figured that Angelo blamed him for the death of Laura Banks. After all, attempting to run Kelly out of the country had cost Laura her life. Owen turned to Kelly and shook his hand and then gave him a half hug.

  The Hispanic man said, “I’m Angelo,” as he shook Megan’s hand as a courtesy.

  “Megan.”

  “Long time, no see, Kelly,” the black man said. “Where have you been?”

  “Here and there,” he said evasively, with some mystery.

  “I’ve heard rumblings of your travels this last year. Sounds like you’ve had some difficulty staying out of trouble,” he mused.

  Kelly looked somewhat surprised that the details had made it back to Owen, but after what he’d done that year, he wasn’t surprised. If you only knew, Kelly thought to himself.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he said. “It’s good to be back.”

  Owen seemed intrigued but he knew it wasn’t the time to press Kelly further. He hoped to hear the details at some point, though.

  “I’ve been working more back in the States, Kelly. Some interesting work has come up. You know… The offer is still good. Why don’t you come work with us?”

  “I’m glad you mentioned it again,” Kelly said. “You know, I’ve given it a lot of thought this past year.”

  Kelly moved his right hand to his shirt.

  “I’ve got some Dominican cigars,” he offered.

  He raised the tips of them out of his breast pocket and motioned his head towards the doors. Megan smiled and the other two men shrugged their shoulders in agreement. The group walked towards the sunlight as Kelly distributed a cigar each, to the men. He put one to his own lips, as he pulled a lighter out of his dress pants, passing it to Owen and then receiving it back from Angelo. The tip of his own cigar reddened up as he looked at Owen and blew out a puff of smoke. Then Kelly Maclean finally offered a definitive response regarding his thoughts on working for the Agency.

  XXX

  I hope that you’ve enjoyed this novel. If so, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to drop me a line at nate@natehawk.com. I always look forward correspondence.

  This year will be a busy year for Nate Hawk publications. Check my Amazon Author Page for frequent updates!

  Follow me on Twitter: @NateHawkAuthor

  Or Facebook:

  www.facebook.com/pages/NateHawk/920246518037816!