Engravings of Wraith

by Kiera Dellacroix

“How did you come to have the name Bennigan, Mrs. Cameron?” he asked.

  “You should know, MI6 has changed our names and moved us around for last fifteen years,” she said testily.

  “You only very recently came to the attention of MI6, Mrs. Cameron. We have at no time been involved in your affairs.”

  “What kind of shit are you shoveling?” she asked with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been stinking up our lives for the better part of two decades.”

  “Mrs. Cameron, you have been manipulated by an American agency. I’m here to put a stop to it.”

  “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Mr. Watts,” she said as she took a seat in the chair across from him.

  “Would you tell me the reason behind your original name change and relocation, please?” he asked politely.

  She stared at him without speaking for almost a minute.

  “About a year after most of my family was murdered, Mr. Watts. We were approached by MI6, who informed us that we were in danger from the British and through misunderstanding, faced retaliation from the IRA itself,” she said frostily. “Having only my fourteen year old son left I agreed to their offer of safe haven and because I did, my son and I have lost our names and have been uprooted too many times to count.”

  “Mrs. Cameron, before today, at no time has a member of any branch of British Intelligence approached you. The only danger that you’ve ever been in is from the people who have manipulated you.”

  “And who might these people be, Mr. Watts?” she asked sarcastically.

  “A branch of the American Central Intelligence Agency, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “Why would the Americans care about an Irish family?”

  “That’s not a question I can answer at this time,” he said regretfully.

  “Why not?”

  “I cannot answer as a request to a friend; a friend that is aware of your situation and knows you are in danger.”

  “A friend to you or to me, Mr. Watts?”

  “Both, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “What do you want of us?”

  “I’m here at the request of my friend and with the permission of the Prime Minister to transport you to the British Embassy in the United States where you have been granted asylum.”

  “If what you say is true, why would I want to go to the United States, if we’re supposedly in danger from them to begin with?”

  “It is at the request of your benefactor, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “And who exactly would my benefactor be?” she asked curiously.

  “A person who has much to risk and wishes fervently that you comply with their request. This person has also empowered me to inform you that soon you can live wherever you want, for as long as you want. But it is imperative that you comply with their request,” he said as earnestly as possible.

  Doreen was quiet for sometime as she considered his words, inspecting him closely for any hint of deceit. She was more than a little disturbed that she could find no trace of falsehood about the man and she had to admit to a raging curiosity about her mysterious benefactor.

  “And if I refuse?” she asked finally.

  “If you refuse, I will personally take up residence here and will have a security detachment surrounding you around the clock, until you either comply with the wishes of your benefactor or I am informed that you are no longer in danger,” he said seriously.

  “You seem to have a personal stake here, Mr. Watts,” she said quietly.

  “It’s more a matter of honor, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “How so?”

  “Some years back your benefactor was mine as well and went through a considerable effort to save my life when it would have been prudent not to do so.”

  “Do I get to meet this mysterious person?”

  “Eventually, I believe so, yes,” he said honestly.

  “You say this person is at risk, why?”

  “Your benefactor is currently a target of the agency that poses a potential threat to you.”

  “Are you telling me that the American government is going to kill this person.”

  “Not the American government as a whole, but an agency that operates outside of governmental restrictions. And I think they will try, I doubt they will succeed.”

  “Why don’t you think they’ll succeed?”

  “Your benefactor is tremendously formidable, Mrs. Cameron,” he said seriously. “It would be my guess that within a month the situation will be resolved.”

  “Why a month?”

  “Because that is when I was informed that your benefactor would again be in contact with me.”

  She got up from her chair and paced slowly around the room. “Mr. Watts, I’m a little out of sorts that I can’t find any hint of a lie upon you,” she said honestly.

  “I know this must all seem very cloak and dagger, Mrs. Cameron. And I know a lot of what I’ve told you is vague, and I’ve offered very little information to convince you that what I say is true. But I ask you to believe me and to place trust in your benefactor who has only your safety in mind.”

  “It would help a great deal if you told me who this person is and why they seem to care about our safety.”

  “It would indeed simplify matters. However, I was asked not to reveal that information.”

  “Mr. Watts, I’m afraid that I can’t uproot my son, who is engaged, on the basis of what you’ve told me.”

  “His fiance may come with us, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “That wouldn’t be fair to either of them,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t comply with your wishes or those of my so called benefactor, Mr. Watts.”

  Jeremy sat in his chair and thought long and hard. Studying the woman intently, he was convinced from the stubborn set of her jaw that any further attempts at persuasion would be ultimately rejected. Deciding to give a little and hoping that he was making the right decision, he walked over to the dresser and picked up a picture that portrayed the entire Cameron family.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Cameron,” he said sincerely looking at the picture. “Your daughter is very lovely.”

  “Yes, she was,” Doreen corrected sadly.

  “Mrs. Cameron, I cannot and will not elaborate further, so please do not ask me to,” he began with conviction.

  Doreen stopped her pacing at the man’s words and stood behind her chair. From his tone she had the sudden and overwhelming feeling that he was about to drop a bomb in her lap. She moved around to the front of her chair and sat down gingerly, locking eyes with the man and nodding slowly.

  “I don’t know all the details, Mrs. Cameron. But your benefactor has evidently been looking for you for a very long time. Your safety is of great concern to her. Please reconsider your decision.” He put the picture down and walked briskly to the door without looking at her. “I’m stepping outside for a puff, I’ll be back shortly,” he said as he opened the door and proceeded outside.

  Doreen sat in her chair and circulated the words he had spoken through her mind for several minutes, a startled gasp escaping as she considered the ramifications of his statement. She sprang from her chair, closing the distance between her and the photograph that he had handled in a bounding leap. Her eyes focused in on the image of her long dead but beautiful daughter, managing to trace the outline of her face with the tip of a finger before her knees refused to support her and she collapsed to the floor with the photograph clutched to her chest. Was it possible? She had seen the body, but had she really looked? It had been an unspeakably grievous time and one glance at the mangled form that had been her exquisite daughter was all that she could stand. Was she out there right now?

  “Ryan!” she screamed.

  A crash came from above followed by rapidly pounding footsteps as her son came flying down the stairs seconds later, coming to a sputtering halt as soon as he spotted his mother on the floor.

  “Are you alright, Mum?” he asked anxiously.

  “Get your floozy over here right now. We’re going to Ame
rica.”

  ———

  “We currently have thirty assets in Atlanta now, the rest will arrive within the next two days. Surveillance has already begun; Mike Donnelly is coordinating and has them based at the Hyatt Regency. The rest of our assets are spread out among the area hotels as you requested,” Bob said.

  “Good,” Terry said. “Who would you say is the best candidate to take charge of our confrontation people?”

  “Dwight Robards, he’s the most experienced,” Bob answered.

  “Is he on location yet?” Terry asked.

  “No, his ETA is the day after tomorrow.”

  “Very well, unless anyone objects, we’ll go with him,” Terry said. “Mr. Phillips has looked into finding a base of operations and has located a two-story office building for lease. It’s a good deal more isolated from the business district than I would’ve liked, but it suits our purposes very well. We should be able to base everyone out of there by Wednesday. What’s the story on her movement, Bob?”

  “She apparently left the building last night at 6:10pm and picked up a female later identified as Piper Tate. From the Tate residence, they proceeded to a restaurant and apparently had dinner. After which, Cameron drove her home and arrived back at C-Corp at 11:47pm. No movement outside the building since then,” Bob reported. “Do we know who Piper Tate is?” he asked.

  “According to Marland, she’s Cameron’s choice to eventually oversee Operations at C-Corp. Tate is apparently already in charge on an interim basis.” Terry said.

  “A business dinner then?” Bob asked.

  “More than likely,” Terry replied just as the phone in front of him rang suddenly

  His testicles started to hurt immediately; any call routed to his station in the Situation room was undoubtedly bad news. His arm shot out to answer it and he listened to the urgent voice on the other end attentively.

  “WHAT?!” he screamed bolting from his chair, causing everyone at the table to cringe at the sound of his voice.

  “GET THEM BACK, GODDAMN IT!” he screamed into the phone. “WHAT?!”

  With a crimson face he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the phone, slowly sinking back down in his chair.

  “Did you see the man in charge?” he asked quietly.

  “I see, it doesn’t make a difference anyways, you’re all done there. Pack it up and report to Mr. Robards in Atlanta, Georgia.” he said, defeated.

  He stared at the phone for a few seconds before he yanked it from the table and threw it as hard as he could at a nearby glass partition. The phone ricocheted violently from the bulletproof glass and crashed loudly to the floor. Having received very little satisfaction, he sat down hard in his chair and quietly fumed, red-faced for several minutes.

  Bob opened his mouth to speak but closed it as Terry raised a hand and turned in his seat to present everyone with the back of his chair. Rapid-fire glances were exchanged around the table in confusion and everyone looked at Bob silently for some sort of explanation. Noticing all the expectant glances, he could only shrug to show everyone he was as ignorant of the situation as they were. They sat in a growing uncomfortable environment for close to half an hour before Terry finally spoke.

  “Cameron evidently has some allies, gentlemen,” he started quietly not bothering to turn in his chair.

  “What’s the story, Terry?” Bob finally braved.

  “The story is, Bob.” Terry turned his chair around to face the table. “Cameron just regained possession of her family and they are now out of our hands.”

  “How did she manage that?” Keith asked.

  “No idea, but a heavily manned and fully armed security detail just drove away with her family.”

  “Where were they located, Terry?” Bob asked.

  “England.”

  “British Intelligence?” Keith asked

  “I would assume so, yes,” Terry answered.

  “The British should be the last people she would turn to for help,” Bob said.

  “She apparently has friends among them,” Keith said. “In fact, she’s worked all over the world for years, she probably has contacts everywhere.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” Terry said and stood from his chair. “I believe I’m going to get some sleep on this turn of events,” he said tiredly as he made his way from the room without any further comment.

  ———

  Piper burst through the front door juggling her purse and two bags of groceries.

  “Nanny!” she called as she kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen.

  She sat the bags on the counter and hurriedly began unpacking the contents. She foraged through the cabinets, producing a large metal pot that she filled with water and placed on the stove.

  “Nanny!” she yelled again as she put a pinch of salt in the water and turned on the burner.

  “What?” Nanny said annoyed as she emerged from the hall.

  “Help me cook dinner, I’m running late,” she said.

  “Late? I didn’t know there was a set time for dinner around here,” she said amused.

  “Bailey’s coming for dinner at 7:30. Help me, please?” She turned a pleading look on her friend.

  “Oh, man,” she said dejectedly.

  “Oh, man what?” Piper asked.

  “How much do you really know about her, Pippy?” Nancy asked cautiously.

  Piper looked at her carefully and debated with herself on how to answer the question. “I know that I care for her very much and that I asked her to dinner here tonight. Why?”

  “How much, Pippy? You’ve only known her for a few days.”

  “A lot, what’s your problem? She said last night that she didn’t think you liked her. Did you say something to her?” Piper asked becoming agitated.

  “I didn’t say anything to her and it’s not that I don’t like her, it’s more like I’m afraid of her,” Nancy admitted.

  “What?”

  “She’s scary, Pippy.”

  “That’s fucking ridiculous. I’ll admit that she can be rather intense, but you get to know her a little and she’s really very sweet.”

  “How well do you know her, Pippy?”

  “I’m hoping to get know her very well,” Piper said with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t know if you should,” Nancy said seriously.

  “That’s not for you to decide, but I would appreciate it if you could at least be courteous to her when she comes over tonight.”

  “Look I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Nancy said sincerely.

  “I’m sorry too, but I’ll say this, she’s been on her own a very long time. She’s also completely inexperienced, but she’s really smart and she picks things up very quickly, so don’t make her any more uncomfortable than she already is,” Piper said seriously.

  “I won’t, Pippy. I’m just a little concerned is all.”

  “Concerned enough to spy on us last night from the spare bedroom?”

  “How did…” she broke off suddenly embarrassed.

  “I didn’t, she knew you were there.”

  “Alright, I was spying. I really don’t know why,” she admitted honestly.

  Piper glared at her until she thought her friend was properly chastened. “Give her a chance, Nanny. Please? I don’t think she’s had very many. And I think she’s really special,” she said truthfully.

  “I will,” she said contritely with downcast eyes. “What have you decided I’m going to cook for your date?” she asked hoping to breeze past the situation.

  “Spaghetti and meatballs,” Piper said with a reprieving smile as Nancy came around the counter and into the kitchen.

  “My favorite,” Nancy said sarcastically. “Am I banished to my bedroom for the night?”

  “Of course, but I’ll let you eat before your confinement,” Piper said cheerily.

  “Thank you, Warden,” Nancy said defeated.

  “Po-lease,” Piper said rolling her eyes. “I spent al
most an entire month in my room when you dated that ugly guy, what was his name, Spunker?”

  “It was Spencer. And he wasn’t that ugly,” Nancy said indignantly.

  “Spare me, the guy had enough hair on his back to make a cat,” Piper said teasingly.

  “He did not!” Nancy said huffily.

  “God, and his face. You never told me what happened to him,” Piper said mischievously.

  “There wasn’t anything wrong with his face.”

  “He looked like he fell from the ugly tree face first into a waffle iron.”

  “Are you finished?” Nancy asked with narrowed eyes.

  “Wait, I think I have one more,” Piper said pretending to think.

  “Keep it to yourself or I’ll tell the Princess of Darkness that I cooked her dinner,” she threatened.

  “That’s not completely true, I already set the water out to boil,” Piper said in her defense.

  “Go get ready or she’ll be afraid to eat anything you offer her after tonight.”

  “Thanks, Nanny,” she said, beaming a smile at her friend as she flounced out of the kitchen to vanish down the hall.

  ———

  “It doesn’t look that bad.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Zack said sarcastically.

  “You can take the hat off, it’s getting dark.”

  “Please shut the fuck up,” Zack said politely as he took off his baseball cap to reveal an incredibly short and lopsided crew cut. The inch of pale white skin above both ears contrasting sharply with the much darker skin tone of his face.

  He let out a long sigh and sank a little in his seat, flipping down the visor in front of him and wincing as he studied his new haircut in the little mirror. He slapped the visor back up with irritation and glanced sideways at his asshole partner. It had been a long day and as predicted their boss had not been pleased to find him with dried gum all over one side of his hair. Mike had looked at both of them knowingly and after several choice comments eluding to their incompetence and all around stupidity, he had refused to relieve them and had placed them on night surveillance for the next week. They were only allowed an hour to dump their shit in the hotel room and clean themselves up so he had been forced to use a beard trimmer to cut his hair. With less than satisfactory results, he had emerged from the bathroom to have Russell thoughtfully provide him with a baseball cap that proclaimed him to be a ‘Sex Machine’. He would have cheerfully shoved the ridiculous cap up his ass but Russell had shrewdly given it to him in Mike’s presence, so he had been forced to place it on his head and had walked back to the car with all the dignity he could muster. The thing that really chapped his ass was that he swore he saw Mike crack a fucking grin as he walked away.