by Dwayne Gill
“Hell, no,” said Hart. “Even though I wouldn’t mind stopping by again to check on them.”
“You like her, don’t you?” said Barkley. She smiled and faced him teasingly, but Hart was grinning.
“She’s an exceptional lady. I’ll just leave it at that,” he said.
They climbed into the car and headed back to the airport. It would be a short stay after all.
◆◆◆
11:00 p.m.
Ed sat in his car and watched as Hart and Barkley left, then followed behind them. He had picked them up at the airport when they first arrived and stayed on them since. He called Amos, who was parked at a nearby convenience store, waiting for the call.
“They’re leaving, Amos.”
“Stay on them.”
◆◆◆
11:10 p.m.
Hart and Barkley were halfway to the airport when Hart noticed they were being followed.
“The black car behind us has been following us since we landed in Tallahassee,” said Hart.
“Are you sure?” asked Barkley. She nearly turned around in her seat, but Hart waved her away.
“I’m sure,” said Hart. “I didn’t think much about the car until I realized it was the same one I saw on the way to the Campbells’. The left headlight is brighter than the right.” Hart had a bad feeling. If they’d been following him since they arrived, it meant the driver saw them visit the Campbells. He activated his left blinker.
“What are you doing?” asked Barkley.
“I’m going back to check on the Campbells,” he said.
It seemed to dawn on Barkley, and she called Kristy, but it went straight to voicemail. “Do you have Helen’s number?” she asked.
“No,” said Hart. “I could find it, but by that time we’ll be there. Just hang tight.” Hart sped up and was pulling in the driveway seven minutes later. They had only been gone seventeen minutes.
Hart looked in his rearview, but apparently, the car either fell back to avoid detection or he’d lost it when he turned around. He banged on the front door and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. Barkley ran around one side of the house, Hart the other, both looking for an alternate entrance or any sign of disturbance. The lights in the house were still on.
A minute later, Hart heard Barkley yell. “Over here!”
He sprinted to the back of the house and found Barkley standing in front of a shattered window.
“No,” said Hart. He looked at Barkley, who had a panicked look on her face. “Stay alert,” he said. “Someone may still be in the house.”
Hart climbed in the window first then helped Barkley through. He listened for a moment but heard nothing. They had entered an empty bedroom at the back of the house, and when he exited it, he recognized where he was. He ambled up a hallway that opened into the large formal area. To his right was the staircase that led to Kristy’s room. Barkley looked ready to run up the stairs to check on Kristy, but Hart looked at her sternly as a silent warning. They needed to stay together.
Hart walked through the kitchen, and as he entered the den, he saw Helen lying on the floor in front of the sofa. They ran to her and Hart came to a sliding stop on the laminate wood floor in front of her. She’d been shot in the neck and was bleeding badly. Her breathing was labored, but she was alive.
“They took her,” said Helen, weakly. Barkley took her hand and squeezed it. Hart was trying to stop the bleeding, but he knew it was a hopeless cause. He looked at her and swore he could see a thin smile forming; she looked at peace. Though she struggled for breath, it wasn’t frantic; she was drifting away.
Hart looked around him. “They must’ve just left.” He looked back at Helen, wondering if tonight, this tragedy, was his fault. I led them right to her, he thought. He also considered who knew about their visit besides he and Barkley. Foster was the only other.
Hart fumed. He looked down at Helen. “Helen, look at me.” She did, though she was fading in and out. “I swear to you, we’ll find Kristy. But I need Cane. You know how to reach him. I need to call him. Now.” She nodded weakly and reached out like she was motioning in the air. “A pen! Barkley, a pen and paper!”
Barkley found one on the coffee table, only a few feet away, then handed Hart a napkin to write on.
“Helen, please stay with me,” said Hart. “Write that number down.” She did, though it seemed to take all her strength and will. The numbers were sloppy, but Hart recognized every one. Helen reached into the pocket of her nightgown, pulled out an artificial blue rose, and handed it to Barkley, who was weeping, tears streaming down her face. “Cane,” was all Helen could mutter, and then her head sank back softly.
She was gone.
Beginnings
12/13/2023
Three months after Cane’s Detour
Cane sat on Bowman’s sofa, waiting for him to return from the kitchen. This was the first time Cane had been to his home; Bowman was usually at the facility in New Mexico where the trainees lived.
Cane knew why he was here. Bowman wanted to meet with him apart from the other men and staff; he’d been trying to keep the details of the failed mission from spreading. It was the first time they’d spoken since right after the mission to kill Rugov faltered. Cane imagined Bowman wanted to rip into him properly; he was irritated and confused months ago at how and why Cane failed to deliver on the mission, but he’d only had time to give Cane a harsh look and an order to take some time away.
Bowman entered the den, coffee in hand, and sat in a straight-backed chair across the room from him. Cane wasn’t concerned about what he expected was coming; he liked and respected Bowman and didn’t want to disappoint him, but he had no regret for what happened with Kristy. In fact, if he had to, he’d do it all over again. His run-in with Kristy was having a marked effect on him; for the first time in his life, Cane saw things around him differently. He’d even been to Kristy’s house, without her knowing, to check on her. She wasn’t in any further danger, but he felt the need to make sure she was okay.
“When I first took this job, that’s what it was for me. Just a job,” said Bowman. “I was psyched about it, though. What an opportunity. I was only thirty years old and didn’t understand why they chose me, but there I was.” He stopped and took a long sip of coffee. “The first time I remember knowing you were gonna be special was when you kicked the crap out of those boys bullying Lynks. Joe and Connor.”
Cane remembered him being upset about it, but it didn’t matter now. “A man can try to view what he does as just a job, but when you raise twenty-two boys, it becomes more than that.” Bowman paused and looked out the window he was sitting beside.
“The government was only interested in making all of you killing machines. Robots. That’s why the training program was so hard and impersonal. They wanted to make sure that above everything else, you boys would follow orders when the time came.”
Bowman was still looking out the window, squinting at something outside. “In the beginning, I agreed with that philosophy, because I thought if we had twenty-two lethal killers out there, having them remain compliant was a good thing.”
Bowman got up and walked to the mantel above his fireplace, glancing over some photos sitting atop it. “I parted ways with the government’ philosophy after many years, though. I didn’t see you boys as robots anymore. I grew to love all of you. I think the government had a hard time seeing you all as actual people. They thought of you more as AI, like they could program you or something.”
He paced now, returning to his table and taking another sip of coffee. “I was more concerned about what sort of men you would become. I didn’t care about how apt everyone was to take orders; my greatest fear was that you all would obey any order given to you. That was the most dangerous scenario I could imagine. And my fears came true.”
Bowman walked over to a love seat next to the sofa Cane was sitting on. “I’m stepping down, Cane. As of January first, I will no longer be your commanding officer.”
<
br /> “Why, sir?” asked Cane. He was shocked and disappointed.
Bowman smiled. “I think you, of all people, will understand why.”
Bowman stepped away and returned to his chair across the room. “You were always my priority. You never had authority issues to weed out, no major ego, no weakness. With the other boys, we spent more time trying to ‘fix’ their issues. They were just boys, and most acted like it. The ‘behavioral’ issues were typical guy things and to be expected. But you, well, we could spend more time training you because you didn’t have those problems. You grew up faster than the rest.” Bowman went to take another sip, but his cup was empty. “Most of my superiors think this resulted in you becoming so much greater than the rest. “But I knew better.”
Bowman looked Cane in the eye. “The training didn’t make you better than them. You had a cleaner template to start with. Those other boys could’ve trained twice as much and still not been half as good as you.”
Cane had never heard Bowman speak so frankly. They’d always got along fine, but Bowman never treated Cane any differently, that he noticed.
“You were too good, Cane. You cleaned up so much overseas that we were slow on work. There’s always someone to kill or something to do, but the prioritized missions went to you, while the lower-level stuff went to the others, which was what was drying up. The suits would never allow the boys to sit still, though. They were gonna find something for them to do, and they did. That’s when they found more jobs, here, in the States. Gotta keep their expensive assets busy. They began targeting American citizens, and I didn’t like where it was headed. I tried to talk to the powers that be, but they told me to either fall in line or step down.” Bowman looked to be on the verge of getting emotional. “It was hard. Like I said, it was more than a job for me. You guys are like my sons. Especially you. You and Lynks were always special. At first, I thought maybe I was being too soft. I figured I’d try to comply with these new missions and targets.”
Bowman paused again, trying to gain his composure. “I see the boys I raised, following orders to kill Americans who deserve a trial, and they do it without a second thought. They’ve become what I feared most, and what the government hoped they would. Mindless killing machines.”
Bowman struggled to contain his emotion, but Cane also sensed anger beneath the surface. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch it happen. I’d rather step down, which is what I’m doing.”
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Cane was devastated; Bowman was like a father to him and the only other person besides Lynks that he trusted. Losing Bowman would be hard to overcome.
“This mission you flopped on,” said Bowman. “Rugov was an important target. That’s why we put you on it.”
Cane had imagined he’d get an earful about this; he just wondered why it took so long.
“Rugov’s American wife was there with him. An American-born citizen whose only crime was who she married. Was she a good person? I highly doubt it. But did she deserve to die? The government thought so.” Bowman shifted in his seat and made eye contact. “I don’t know what would’ve happened had you gone through with the mission. Would you have killed her? I like to think you wouldn’t have.”
Cane didn’t know. He’d never asked himself what he’d do if they asked him to kill a civilian. He wouldn’t do it now, but before Kristy? He had no idea.
“Whatever,” said Bowman, unable to read Cane’s reaction. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you never had the opportunity. You did your own thing that day.”
Cane now wondered if he read Bowman wrong; maybe he would not lecture him on duty first.
“While the government had their own idea of what they wanted you trainees to be, I did too. I wanted you all to be strong, smart, disciplined, but I wanted more than that. I wanted you boys to develop a strong moral sense, to develop into men I could trust to do the right thing in any specific situation. So what you did that day, helping a person in dire need, and choosing that over a mission of high value…” Bowman looked at him more intently now. “I gotta tell you, when you did that, it was the proudest moment of my military career.”
It was easy to tell how sincere Bowman was. His eyes were glistening. He wasn’t crying, but was on the brink. Bowman was still looking at him; he wasn’t finished.
“You’ve been by there to check on Kristy?” he asked.
Cane had to think for a moment, but then nodded.
“Why?” asked Bowman.
Cane responded honestly. “I don’t know. I want her to be safe.”
Bowman smiled. “Well, you haven’t introduced yourself to them, so I’m guessing you’re watching from afar. I’m not sure hiding in the bushes and watching her conveys the right message. I know you’re plenty capable of never being detected, but if you ever were, that’d be a tough one to explain.”
Cane nodded. “I understand, sir.”
“However,” said Bowman, “I think you should stay in touch with Kristy and her mom. In fact, I’ve already introduced myself to them both.”
Cane’s head shot up, surprised, and he looked at Bowman for any sign of it being a joke. Bowman was serious.
“I told them everything,” said Bowman. “I knew you’d struggle with that. I told them about you, the program, and I left nothing to the imagination. I wanted to give them the opportunity to push away the thought of you dropping by to visit. I knew if they accepted the uncut version, they’d be okay with you.” Bowman paused briefly to make fresh eye contact. “And they did. They didn’t care about your past. They want to meet you.”
It’s my present, not my past, thought Cane. He felt a rush of nerves flow through him. He’d been in tense and dangerous situations frequently the past few years, but he’d never been nervous like this before.
“What did Kristy say about me?” asked Cane. All he could remember was her looking very afraid the night they met. He refused to go see her if the sight of him terrified her.
“About that day?” asked Bowman. “She mentioned you drugged her if that’s what you mean. She was frightened of you, Cane. But look at you. Any person in their right mind would be. She understands what you did that day and why.”
Cane wasn’t so sure.
“She admires you for what you did,” said Bowman. “You saved her life. In fact, it was her idea for you to visit.”
“I don’t know what to say to them,” said Cane.
Bowman grinned. “Of course you don’t. We isolated you from normal society your entire life. You have no social skills. But you’ll never have any unless you communicate with other people.”
Cane felt overwhelmed and unqualified. “Remember,” said Bowman, “never talk about the specifics of what you do. Don’t talk about killing people. Ordinary people can’t relate to it. Talk about normal things, like the weather, music, or a good book you’ve read. And most of all, be a good listener. And, even though I don’t have to tell you this, be careful. Don’t be seen going back and forth.”
Cane was blown away. He never questioned Bowman’s character before, but he also never thought of him as gracious in this way. What he did was beyond anything required of him.
“You watch over those ladies,” said Bowman. “You will like them, a lot. They’re both wonderful people. And you won’t have to hide in the bushes anymore.”
Cane smiled a little.
◆◆◆
Cane made his first visit the very next night. He was so nervous he could feel his hands shaking as he stood in front of their house. It wasn’t often he’d approached someone’s front door without stealth. The realization he was there only to talk was bearing down on him.
Lynks had tried to help by giving him some pointers and encouragement, but Cane couldn’t feel any effect from it now. He rang the doorbell and waited; Bowman said the women knew he was coming, so he imagined they would be anticipating his arrival. When the door opened, Cane felt short of breath.
The two women stood there, side by side, smi
ling at him like he was a distant relative they hadn’t seen in years. They were gorgeous; neither dressed formally, but it was clear they had prepared themselves. Kristy looked almost like a different person from three months ago. She was clean, her hair made up, and she carried herself with dignity. Helen, the mother, looked just as beautiful. In fact, the two of them looked very much alike.
Both waved their hands inward, signaling him to come inside. He hesitated, feeling the weight of the situation, and although they were welcoming, he was frozen in place. He considered turning around and leaving despite knowing how foolish and weak it would make him look.
Helen smiled even more warmly at him, stepped forward, and enveloped his right hand in between hers. The sensation of her touch caused him discomfort for a moment, though he hid it. “Cane, there’s no pressure here. We don’t have a single expectation. You can come in and sit. You don’t have to talk. We only want to meet you.” Tears filled her eyes.
Cane sensed a surge of peace, as if her very words spilled comfort onto him. There was no turning back. He would follow this lovely lady inside even if he looked like an idiot the entire visit.
Helen showed him to the sofa in the den and the two women disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, leaving Cane time to gather himself. He was feeling much more at ease now, the house itself giving off a comforting vibe of its own. The home was warm, cozy, and filled with lovely aromas. Candles were burning at different places, each one submitting its own version of aromatic beauty into the air. He liked it here already. He could hear the two ladies, in the kitchen, giggling and talking.
Kristy and Helen emerged with trays of goodies, small sandwiches, chips, dip, pickle spears, and a pitcher of tea. Cane grabbed a few of the sandwiches and remembered to thank them for it, which was one tip Lynks gave him. After they ate, Helen moved to the couch beside Cane while Kristy sat on the love seat. He didn’t know if Helen was putting special effort into making him feel welcome or if she was naturally this sweet of a person, but he’d never seen anyone this pleasant before. She looked him in the eyes.
