CL Hart -From A Distance Page 2

  There was a cursory investigation, but so much of the incident was confidential the only answer the government gave was that Mifflin died in the line of duty. His family received a medal for his bravery and a crisply folded flag. Kenzie had a hard time after his death and took a leave of absence, during which she had many long phone conversations with the judge. However, due to the sensitive issue of security, she couldn't speak about what was really bothering her. He tried to console her, but survivor guilt was a hard thing to get over. Having served in Vietnam, he understood that.

  When Kenzie was finally able to see Judge Woodward, he knew by the look in her eyes how painful it had been. He couldn't help her, but that didn't keep him from wanting to try. When her leave of absence was over, she returned to the only life she knew.

  One afternoon she received a message to report to a Colonel Manuck off base, which was unusual. However, in the military, she had learned not to question, but to follow, orders. She had heard of him - a man of color, who wore his rank proudly on his uniform. She knew he was a man who required the utmost respect and that had nothing to do with his rank. He had a reputation of being a good soldier, a quiet man who let his actions do most of his talking. However, she also recalled some disturbing stories she'd heard about Colonel Manuck, rumors about covert operations and a very high mortality rate among the soldiers under his command. The mortality rate didn't scare her, and the thought of covert operations sounded like an intriguing challenge.

  Kenzie found the address that she was looking for belonged to an old, rundown office building. She double checked the piece of paper in her hand and confirmed the location was indeed correct. She paused outside the door, took a breath, and straightened her uniform before she knocked. The door opened immediately and Kenzie entered the nearly empty room. She was surprised to see two men there.

  "I'm looking for Colonel Manuck?" she said, looking at each man.

  "I'm Manuck," the man with the large barrel chest said.

  "Colonel." Kenzie started to salute.

  Manuck waved off the pomp and circumstance. "Not needed. You know who I am?" the colonel asked as he offered her one of the three chairs in the room.

  "Yes, sir," she said as she sat down on the cold metal chair. The other man wasn't introduced, but after a quick observation of his crisp dark suit and tie, athletic build, and military haircut, Kenzie guessed he was a Fed. He was a Kevin Costner look-alike, and she decided to call him Kevin, since no name was offered.

  Kevin sat down, his eyes never leaving Kenzie's as Colonel Manuck quietly laid out the reason as to why she was there. Manuck did most of the talking. Now and then Kevin would supply a few details. At first, the colonel explained a military career change; however, as she listened longer, it became plain that it was more than just a career change. Many times over the following years, she would wonder what would have happened that day if she'd declined their offer.

  FBI, CIA, SSA - the initials didn't matter to her. She would be performing the same function, but the proposition came with strings attached. She weighed the offer very carefully. More responsibility, less military operations, and it all came with a fat pay raise and a security clearance at the highest level. Kenzie was ready to jump at it until Kevin made one final statement. He cleared his throat dramatically and then informed her that any perceived benefits would come at a very high cost.

  "Your life in the civilian world will come to an end."

  "Meaning?" She looked to Manuck for clarification.

  Manuck hesitated for a moment, weighing his words as he studied her face. "Any and all contact with persons not within the unit will cease."

  "Your existence will be terminated - permanently," Kevin added coldly.

  Kenzie glanced from one man to the other, not sure what to ask, but somehow she knew there would be nothing more forthcoming.

  That afternoon Judge Woodward received a call from Kenzie, asking if she could meet him for dinner. It had been a while since he'd seen her, and when she walked through his door, he couldn't help but notice the concern creased into her brow. He was surprised when Kenzie brought up the subject of her financial estate. Money was not something she typically discussed. He listened carefully to her words and wishes, and though she had not mentioned anything specific, he suddenly had his suspicions. The mood became happy and light as they made and ate dinner together, and then enjoyed one of their highly competitive games of chess. When Kenzie pulled on her black leather jacket to leave, the dark foreboding feel from earlier in the evening returned. They hugged tightly to one another at the front door and again in the driveway. It was hard for her to leave, but she tried not to show emotion as she climbed onto her motorbike.

  With a simple nod, she was gone and the elderly judge stood and watched as Kenzie rode out of sight. Somehow he knew this good-bye was different.

  When Kenzie reported to Colonel Manuck the next morning, she handed him all her signed papers, her dog tags and identification. He gave her a new security clearance ID card - with no name and no picture, just a laser scan of her thumbprint. Just like that, Katherine Mackenzie LeGault ceased to exist.

  Two days later, Judge Woodward was reading his morning paper when a small article caught his eye.

  United States Army Press release - Fort Lewis, Washington. Officials at the Fort announced the death of a local soldier. Sergeant Major Katherine Mackenzie LeGault, a highly decorated member of Special Forces, was killed in the line of duty. She leaves behind no immediate family.

  A feeling of unbearable sorrow tore at his chest. He laid the paper down in utter disbelief as tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision. It couldn't be true. Surely, if she were dead, someone would have called him. The tears fell as he closed his eyes and recalled their dinner just the other night. His breath caught as he remembered her strange demeanor that evening. Reaching for the paper, he read the death notice again, wondering whether his sudden insight was the truth or just what he wanted the truth to be.

  Weeks after the judge read the obituary, a package arrived for him at the courthouse. He was hesitant about opening it without a postmark, but curiosity got the better of him. Inside he found a small jewelry box, and when he lifted the lid, a smile instantly spread across his face. Inside was a Zippo lighter embossed with a black and white yin-yang, the same as the lighter his Katherine had flippantly attempted to use in his courtroom so many years before. He smiled broadly. Katherine was alive. It was all he needed to know.

  Months later, another package arrived, another Zippo lighter - no note or return address, but he knew it was from her. It was her way of telling him she was okay.

  Kenzie quickly became one of Colonel Manuck's favorites. She spoke less than he did, but was far more accurate with a rifle at five hundred meters. When he met with her, their meetings were short and to the point. Kenzie knew he had to report to someone higher up, but she didn't ask who it was. It was irrelevant to her job. He gave her orders and she followed them. Killing became easy. It was her job. It was what she did.

  In her new posting, Kenzie only met Colonel Manuck in nondescript buildings or underground parking lots. At times, she found the whole cloak and dagger thing almost amusing, but there was little humor in what she was doing. She followed her orders to the letter. The first few jobs were a lot harder than she had expected. In some way, she felt vulnerable without her dogtags and military backup, although the job itself was not much different from what it had been before. If anything, her situation was better because she had more freedom to move under the radar, and she answered only to Colonel Manuck. She liked the fact that sometimes she would spend months in one location just gathering information. Kenzie considered herself a specialist in her field of global security. When a problem arose and all other avenues of solution had failed, they would bring her in to handle it by whatever means necessary. She followed all protocols, as per her orders. It was a different life and she was learning to enjoy it, although she soon realized that the cost of her anonymity w
as a world of solitude.

  With the luxury of money, she had two residences, but neither of them was a home. One was a house in the Pacific Northwest and the other was her sailboat, for which she changed the mooring often. Kenzie's only interaction with the world outside of her true existence was the polite conversations she had with the strangers in her life, the overly happy Asian woman who giggled and bowed every time Kenzie came into her small produce store, and Jack, the skateboarding mechanic who looked after her bike. Nobody knew her real name, where she lived, or what she did. She was living her life as a ghost. There was no one to notice that, even though Kenzie had quit smoking years earlier, she still purchased Zippo lighters on a regular basis.

  Chapter 2

  Kenzie's cell phone warbled a text message. Flipping it open, she read the text - ACTIVATION: PREP MODE/ARMED AND READY FOR TRANSPORT; WHIDBEY ISLAND NAVAL BASE/HANGAR 11. ASAP. She read the message again before punching in her confirmation code. Closing her phone, Kenzie absorbed the information as she grabbed her helmet and backpack.

  Kenzie arrived at the heavily fortified front gates of the naval base, flashed her high-level clearance ID, and they waved her through without even a salute. No one saw her face beneath her helmet as she cruised her bike toward Hangar n. Several armed Marines secured the entrance, and directed Kenzie where to park her bike. Keeping her helmet on, she nodded as one of them indicated the waiting plane. The sound of the powerful engines whined as Kenzie climbed the stairs. The flight crew said nothing as they closed the doors, muffling the sounds outside as she took her seat.

  Once her flight leveled off, one of the flight crew came back and handed her an envelope. Not even making eye contact, he returned to the cockpit. Alone, Kenzie turned the envelope around to reveal the words Omega 3 written boldly on the front.

  "Omega," she whispered to herself. She had heard of them, but until that moment, it had never occurred to her that she was one of them.

  The Omega Squad was the silent little brother of Delta Force. Their military actions were unrestricted by any legal limitations, military or civil. They were the few, the proud, the non-existent. Delta Force soldiers were handpicked from within the military elite, Omega soldiers rose above that. They followed their orders and then never spoke of their assignments again. According to the government, the only difference between Delta Force and the Omega Squad was that the Omega Squad did not exist.

  Her finger traced the words on the envelope. "If I'm three, who the hell are one and two?" she whispered as she ripped open the envelope. Scanning the document quickly, she learned that they were heading for a military base in the Middle East. Further orders would be provided upon her arrival. Then her eyes fell on the bold type at the end of the document, and an eerie feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

  Upon arrival, rendezvous with additional personnel

  Kenzie didn't like the idea of working with someone again. It was something she was not comfortable with, but knew there was nothing she could do about it.

  When the plane landed, Kenzie was hustled out and was taken into what she assumed was the commander's office. There were several people there, and even without introductions, Kenzie knew which ones were other non-named personnel. One stood about 6'3", with a football player's neck and shoulders. The other was a little shorter and had a slightly thinner build, but the same intense stare. That, and the lack of emotion on their faces, told her who they were.

  There were no introductions offered between the soldiers, only slight nods of acknowledgment. The commander explained the situation as the three soldiers listened intently.

  Kenzie thought it strange that they were brought in to deal with a military operation the commander's own men could have handled, but she kept her assessment to herself as she studied the map on the wall.

  The three listened in silence as the commander finished the details of the mission. "My orders were to get you people down here and let you handle it."

  "Yes, sir. That's what we do," the smaller of the two men said firmly. Apparently he was in charge.

  "Now you understand that this information is highly classifi-"

  "Sir, our classification is of the highest level," thick neck fired back.

  "The job will be done as directed," the smaller man said impassively. "We'll be ready in ten minutes, sir. Please be certain that a helicopter is ready for our insertion and our extraction."

  The commander nodded and left, leaving Kenzie and the other operatives alone.

  Kenzie mulled over the mission in her mind, feeling a sense of uneasiness growing inside her. The two men, who seemed familiar with each other, didn't seem to be bothered by what they were told. She looked them over, assuring herself they were as equally trained as her and more than capable of doing what had been ordered, so why was she feeling so uneasy?

  The two men changing knew more about the operation than she did and that made her even more uncomfortable. "Does this seem strange to anyone besides me?" she asked. When the men remained silent, Kenzie looked to the second agent, the shorter of the two men, and he appeared to be looking at her. When she arrived, she'd caught a glimpse of recognition on his face, but the expression quickly disappeared.

  "Do I know you?" she asked him.

  The question caught him off guard but he covered quickly. "No," he said abruptly and turned his attention to his preparation. The fact that he did know her wasn't of any importance to their present situation.

  She realized that she still didn't know what their names were or what to call them. "Are you going to tell me your names or should I just make some up?"

  "I know what to call you - split-tail, so it doesn't really matter," thick neck, the taller man, said snidely.

  Kenzie chose to ignore the derogatory slang directed at her.

  "Funny, I thought you'd be taller," the man continued.

  "How tall do you have to be to pull a trigger, Einstein?"

  "You don't have to be tall, but you have to be a...a guy." He glared at her in frustration. "It's a man's job, not a job for a woman, and my name's not Einstein, either."

  She raised an eyebrow in surprise and then looked at his partner. "It would appear not." Her sassy sarcasm got a small smile from the shorter one. Kenzie slipped into the shoulder harness that held her twin 9mms.

  "Where are your .45s?" thick neck asked. "Or is that too big a gun for a little girl?"

  "The 9s work for me," she said as she leaned over to pull a small backpack from her bag.

  "Will this work for you, too?" Thick neck gazed lewdly at her figure while grabbing his crotch.

  Kenzie looked over at thick neck and sneered. "I guess that would make you asshole number one."

  Thick neck stood up after fastening his backpack, his eyes lingering on her on his way to a mirror on the wall. "Actually, number two, code name Cobra." He began to darken his face ill front of the mirror. "The quiet one over there is Viper. He's number one."

  "I'm working with a couple of snakes - nice." She reached down and retrieved her black balaclava from her bag. "Kind of a cocky son of a bitch, aren't ya, Cobra?"

  When she straightened up, she was not surprised to see he had turned around to face her. A foot and a half apart, they stood eyeing each other.

  "Nice tits," Cobra said. Suddenly his right hand shot out, reaching for one of Kenzie's breasts, but before his fingers could touch even the wool of her shirt, she turned to her left, striking out with her right hand, driving her fingers up into his armpit. Stepping out with her right foot, she lifted him over her hip and Cobra landed soundly on his back.

  "Try that again, asshole, and I'll break your fuckin' arm."

  "Hey...hey, knock it off, you two." Viper rushed to break them up, but it was already over.

  Kenzie stepped over Cobra and brushed past Viper to stand in front of the mirror. With her black smudge in her hand, she glanced over to see Viper offer Cobra a hand up.

  "I'm not here to be you boys' secretary."

  "And we
're not here as your enemy," Viper said as he brushed off Cobra's shirt.

  "I don't call anyone friend." Kenzie plucked her balaclava off the floor where it had fallen during the scuffle, and pulled it over her head. "So we can forget having a beer when this is all done." In stilted silence, the three boarded the waiting helicopter. A short but dangerous flight took them over a border they should not have been crossing. Moments later, three black figures rappelled silently to the ground.

  Chapter 3

  A phone rang, interrupting the thoughts of the lone occupant of the large office. The man sitting at the desk reached for the handset. It was too early for the call to be good news. "Yes?"

  "We have a problem and it needs to be dealt with immediately."

  "Explain." His voice was void of emotion. The voice on the other end of the phone spoke in a gravelly whisper. He didn't like what he was hearing. He glanced down at the paperwork on his desk, "Is she a threat to Maquinar?" The voice did not reply immediately, and he could almost see the frustration on the caller's face.

  "I'm not sure."

  "That, to me, sounds like we have a problem."

  "I just think-"

  "No! I'm not willing to put my ass on the line..." His voice trailed off as his finger traced the Federal Government seal embossed on the letterhead of the letter he was holding. "That other little problem we talked about before..." He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin while his mind spun off in a different direction. "Eliminate one to eliminate the other, and both problems cease to exist. Get it done, clean and fast. Can you do that?"