Coded

by Kayla Bainbridge

  “It has been two weeks since you were shot?”

  “About.”

  “Any other injuries?”

  “My arms,” Kennedy said cautiously while looking at Taylor.

  “What?” Taylor said standing up. What had happened to her arms? He didn’t notice anything earlier, but she was wearing a sweatshirt.

  “Sit down Taylor,” Wendy said calmly. “Actually, you better leave us, I think she will be safe in here.”

  Taylor didn't dare argue with Wendy. Also, as a woman, Wendy could connect to Kennedy easier. Maybe she would loosen up for her. Taylor carried the chair with him and sat outside the door.

  ∆∆∆

  “Is that better?” Wendy asked Kennedy when the door closed.

  Kennedy took a deep breath. “Not necessarily.”

  Wendy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  This place looked real, but Kennedy couldn’t process it. How did she know for sure this was the NSA?

  “Taylor can be intimidating, but in reality, he is just an old-fashioned gentleman. A handsome one if you don't mind me saying.” Wendy said.

  Kennedy didn't really care if he was attractive or not. Her life had been turned upside down all over again.

  “Are you really NSA?” Kennedy asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes dear. I'm sorry. What you have been through changes people. Can I see your arms now?”

  Kennedy pulled up her sleeves. Her arms were covered in bruises from Taylor's “rescue”.

  “Taylor huh?”

  Kennedy nodded, “They aren't bad though.”

  “Yes,” Wendy said looking them over. “They should be gone in a couple of days. Do you feel comfortable with me looking at your gunshot wound?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Kennedy asked.

  “Of course,” Wendy said, pulling back.

  Kennedy took some deep breaths. She was going to have to trust someone. Her wound could be infected, or damaged. What would she do then? Looking at the door, she imagined Taylor sitting out there. Was he her new Jordan?

  Minutes passed before Kennedy could slow her heart rate down. Then Kennedy nodded hesitantly. Wendy had waited patiently.

  Very gently, Wendy inspected the wound.

  “It looks strained. Kyle told me you have already gone through two doses of morphine. That is unusual. How do you feel now?”

  Kennedy considered her answer. She didn’t want to appear weak, but her shoulder was killing her.

  Wendy eyed her suspiciously.

  “It’s bad,” she admitted.

  Wendy nodded, “Why don’t we try Codeine this time? I can give you some pills to take with you.”

  Kennedy nodded gratefully.

  “What were you on over there?”

  “I’m not sure, after the first week I was mostly off painkillers.”

  “Well let’s get you back to that. Have you done any rehab?”

  “No, I was just starting.”

  Wendy wrote down some notes and put on a new bandage once again.

  “Well I will try and set that up for you. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Get rid of the bloodhound?”

  Wendy laughed, “Oh darling, give him a chance. I promise you’ll like him.”

  Wendy then helped Kennedy up off the bed and opened the door. She bent down to talk to Taylor.

  “I will talk to you later about this.” Wendy said with some definite undertones.

  “Thank you,” Taylor replied.

  Taylor stood up. While she had been inside, he had managed to wipe off his black face paint and removed his hat. Kennedy looked up at Taylor again, he looked familiar. He had stormy dark eyes, light brown hair, and strong chin. Was it from when he kidnapped her? No, she only saw their eyes there.

  He interrupted her thoughts, “If you have a question, ask.”

  “You look familiar.”

  Taylor smiled, “We have met. This way please.”

  He pointed down the hallway.

  “I hardly call a kidnapping a meet and greet,” Kennedy said annoyed.

  Taylor laughed, “It was a rescue mission, not a kidnapping. I also wouldn’t count that. We met before that, at your school. That building you worked in?”

  Kennedy stopped walking so she could look at him again.

  “You were the man in the suit who talked to me?” Kennedy said, remembering.

  Taylor nodded, “I look a little different in tactical gear.”

  He turned solemn. “I hope you can forgive me for that morning.”

  Kennedy could see the sincerity on his face. What would’ve happened if Taylor had taken her that day instead of Jordan?

  “You were there to talk?” Kennedy asked.

  “Yes,” Taylor responded.

  “Are you NSA?”

  “Ask me a thousand times, I will still say yes.”

  Kennedy studied his face, looking for a tell he was lying. When she didn’t see any, she continued to walk down the hallway.

  “Who is Dustin?” Kennedy asked as she walked.

  “My superior.”

  “You don't get along?” she asked.

  “Not at the moment,” Taylor replied harshly, and Kennedy decided not to push the issue.

  This building could be a mile wide for all Kennedy knew, but she just kept following the hallway. He finally stopped at a door and opened it up.

  Kennedy didn’t proceed further. Taylor saw her hesitation and closed the door again.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Debriefing,” Taylor answered.

  Every time she asked a question, Taylor answered quickly. She appreciated his forwardness, even if they were lies.

  “With whom?”

  “Brett and Jennifer, they run this unit.”

  Kennedy paced the hallway. She didn’t want to talk to them.

  “Why?”

  “They want to answer your questions.”

  Kennedy considered this, she did want to know why this kept happening to her, “Ok,”.

  Inside sat a conference table with several chairs around it. A projector was aimed up on one wall. There were no windows. Only one light lit the room, leaving the darkness for the projector to be seen. There were two people sitting at the conference table, one man and one woman. They were both in their upper 50’s and waited patiently.

  Taylor motioned for Kennedy to sit down in one of the chairs. He took the seat to her right. Kennedy didn’t like him so close. The door closed behind them, and Kennedy waited in silence until Taylor spoke.

  “This is Colonial Brett Anderson and Miss. Jennifer Wood. They are here to introduce you to the NSA.”

  They both stood and walked over to welcome her.

  “We are very happy to meet you,” Jennifer said as she reached out to shake Kennedy's hand. She had brunette hair with streaks of gray that reached to her shoulders. The lines around her face showed years of stress, probably from the NSA, and made her look older than she probably was. But her accessories of gold bracelets, large rings, and godly necklaces brought out her feminine assets.

  “Yes,” Brett said as he did the same. Brett was dressed in his military attire that made him look masculine and tough. There were medals, bars, and other patches that made Kennedy think he was well recognized. His black hair was cut noticeably short and his face looked like he hadn’t smiled in years. They both returned to their seats.

  “I understand you have answers,” Kennedy said, unwilling to be in the dark any longer.

  “Why yes, of course, you have the right to know,” Brett said standing up. “We have prepared a presentation.”

  Brett grabbed a controller from the table and turned the projector on. A slide then came up with Kennedy’s name on it.

  “Over the last four years we have discovered that there is a certain type of DNA mutation that differentiates a person from someone who has a normal DNA sequence.”

  He clicked a button and the slide changed to a picture of a bunch of
scientists working in a lab.

  “It has taken years, but we discovered that there is a way to track people with this DNA mutation. It is actually quite rare. While transmitting this information over to Washington DC, we believe that it was hacked. This left everyone on that report in serious danger.”

  Brett clicked the slide again and it turned to a picture of the United States.

  “Within our country, there are three people who match this DNA sequence. First there is you,” and with that a little light shined out of Boise Idaho. “Second, is an old man who has dementia,” he said as another light went off in a small city in northern Alaska. “Then third is a newborn baby,” as the last little light appeared down around Dallas Texas. “Since a newborn and a diseased old man can’t communicate, it left you. We are sure that there are many other people from other countries, but our research did not extend that far. That left you.”

  “How did you get my DNA?”

  “When you had wisdom teeth surgery a few years ago, the doctor got a sample. It is a regular procedure now,” Brett explained.

  “Is that legal?”

  “Yes,” Brett said, keeping his answer short.

  Kennedy remained silent, waiting for the rest of the information.

  “We assembled a team, but another company was faster. By the time we got there, well you know. We tried to stop them, but we didn’t have success.”

  “You are the ones who shot me?” Kennedy said angrily.

  Taylor stood up, “I led that team, no one shot you.”

  Brett looked to Jennifer, “No of course not.”

  Kennedy didn’t know what to believe but decided to hear them out. If this was true, Jordan’s men had shot her. Had he done that on purpose?

  “We didn’t know what information they possessed, or what their purpose was for taking you. As a top priority, we used our inside man to find you, and plan your escape. Now that you are here, we are eager to see if that DNA mutation truly makes you any different. That is, if you are willing to work with us.”

  Kennedy wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say, if anything at all. Could her deciphering codes stem from a DNA mutation? How did that company intercept the message? What was the NSA going to do with her? All these thoughts crossed her mind as she stared at all three of their faces.

  “There was an inside man?” Kennedy asked, taking the topic off herself.

  “Yes,” Brett replied.

  “Who is it?”

  “That is classified information,” Brett said.

  Kennedy began wondering about the identity of the undercover operative. Could it have been Jordan, or maybe it was Ryan? Both were nice to her overall, and Jordan had left her unattended for an easy escape.

  “This is a lot to take in,” Jennifer said clearly seeing the confused look on Kennedy’s face.

  “We have chosen Taylor here to watch after you while you are here, and to keep a close eye on you for any trouble. Now, I want you to just go to your place we have given you and simply think it over. Tomorrow we will meet again and talk about some details of what we have in mind. If you need or want anything, just let Taylor know.”

  With that, Jennifer and Brett got up and walked around the table to exit the room, behind where Kennedy and Taylor were sitting.

  After they left, Taylor looked at Kennedy, “Are you ready?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kennedy said, not wanting to get up and go again.

  “That is okay, we can sit in here as long as you would like,” Taylor said leaning back into his chair.

  “This is the NSA?”

  Taylor smiled at her, “Yes.”

  “Are you relying on my patriotic duty to work in your favor?”

  “You decipher the information how you need to.”

  “Decipher? That is an interesting word choice.”

  Taylor stared at her. Did they already know? Was this all just a game?

  He clearly saw her worry and followed up with, “We are simply asking you to help us.”

  “Making the right choice will have consequences.”

  “So, will making the wrong choice,” Taylor countered.

  “I know what you want,” Kennedy said confidently.

  “Is it valuable?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then use it for your advantage. Ask for what you want.”

  Kennedy considered this.

  “So, are you my new bodyguard?”

  “New?” Taylor asked intrigued.

  Kennedy nodded, and then shivered at the idea of Jordan being close to her again.

  Taylor laughed, “Not a very good one if you are sitting here.”

  “Exactly, which means you could also prove useless.”

  “I was in the secret service,” Taylor offered.

  “Impressive,” Kennedy admitted. “Before you joined the NSA?”

  “Yes, this is the NSA.”

  “You have to do what I say?”

  “To the best of my ability, which complies with the legal system and the safety of others.”

  “No more helicopter ladders.”

  Taylor smiled again, “You climbed a ladder in the freezing cold, with a gunshot wound, don’t sell yourself short. Regardless, no more helicopter ladders.”

  “Thank you,” Kennedy said.

  Taylor stood up, “Of course, now if you are ready, let’s get you something to eat, I am starving.”

  “Not yet,” Kennedy suggested.

  “What do you need?”

  “You said ask?”

  “I did,” Taylor agreed.

  “I want a phone,” Kennedy said excitedly.

  “Do you mean a personal cell phone?”

  “Is that possible?”

  “This is the NSA; we have hundreds of phones. I can call down and have it set up. We can grab it after we eat?”

  “No, I want to do that first.”

  “Ok,” Taylor said, opening the door for her.

  Taylor led her down a few flights of stairs, down a hallway and then stopped at the second door on the left.

  “Taylor!” a woman said, as Taylor opened the door for Kennedy, and then entered.

  “Trish!” Taylor replied as they exchanged a handshake followed by pats on the back. “This is Kennedy.”

  “Nice to meet you Kennedy. Taylor, good to see you again, what can I do for you.”

  “We need a phone please.”

  “Anything specific?”

  “Untraceable, no clearance, typical NSA phone.”

  “It’ll take me about half an hour,” Trish replied.

  Taylor looked to Kennedy, “We’ll wait.”

  Trish raised an eyebrow as she started to work on a phone.

  “We are very excited to talk to someone.”

  “I see,” she replied skeptically.

  Taylor turned to Kennedy who nodded in approval.

  Over the next half hour Taylor and Trish caught up on their lives. Taylor talked about some missions in the secret service, and Trish talked about her last NSA mission.

  “Here you go!” Trish said, handing the phone to Kennedy. She spent a few minutes telling her how to operate it.

  “Internet access, email, social media?” Kennedy questioned.

  “Not here,” Taylor said, cutting her off.

  “Thanks Trish,” Taylor said escorting Kennedy out.

  “Till next time,” she replied.

  “What was that?” Kennedy asked when the door closed.

  “You can’t reveal information to those not on the team.”

  “That was hardly revealing,” Kennedy countered.

  “More than you think. Everyone has those things on their phone. What conditions were you in to prevent that?”

  Kennedy nodded, still not sure of what he was saying.

  “But she is NSA.”

  Taylor’s serious face melted away, “Yes, this is the NSA. But no one knows every single case. We keep our teams as small as possible. Now let’s get you f
ood. When is the last time you ate?”

  She had to think about that, “Breakfast?”

  “Yesterday morning? That was over 24 hours ago. You can take it back to your room and talk to your friends and family there if you want. Can you wait a little longer?”

  “I really appreciate this,” she said subtly agreeing to his plan.

  “I also know what it is like to live without the people I love.”

  “You can’t talk to your family?”

  Taylor smiled, “Oh no, I can talk to them. While I was in the secret service, there were times when we had to be in radio silence for a few weeks. At training it was also discouraged.

  Kennedy nodded.

  Taylor led her to a cafeteria. It was mostly empty, and Taylor easily shielded her from the others sitting down. They grabbed food, and Taylor escorted Kennedy to her room.

  “Just use your fingerprint to get in,” Taylor said, demonstrating for her.

  Kennedy followed suit and the door opened. This room was simpler than the last. She had a small sitting room with a couch, two chairs and a TV. That room was then connected to her bedroom by French doors that were open. A queen bed took up most of the room, but she did have her own bathroom with a standard bathtub and shower combo. There were two windows facing the forests behind the building. The natural light felt so much better than artificial lighting.

  “It isn’t much,” Taylor admitted.

  “It’s perfect, thank you” Kennedy said, setting her food down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  Taylor then interpreted her thoughts.

  “I’m across the hall if you need anything,” Taylor said walking backwards out of the room.

  “Ok,” Kennedy said, quickly closing the door.

  She quickly unlocked the phone and dialed the most familiar number to her. At first her mom didn’t answer, but she called again and got a hold of her.

  “Mom?”

  “Kennedy, I did recognize the number?”

  To hear her voice again, it brought a wave of comfort over her.

  “My last phone fell in the toilet, you know me. I grabbed a new one.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in a few days, how are you?”

  A few days? Whatever that last company had been using to have her “communicate” with her friends and family, it had been convincing enough for even her own mother.