Chasing the Dragon

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Chasing the Dragon Page 16

by T. K. Leigh


  I released my hold on her and started toward a darkened SUV idling a few feet from her car. “Call me when you get to San Antonio.” I didn’t even wait for Eli to open the door for me. I needed to get far away from the one woman I sensed could destroy me, just as I would inevitably destroy her.

  “To home, sir?” Eli asked, climbing behind the wheel.

  “Yes, please.”

  I glanced out the window, observing Mackenzie as she drove past me. I noticed her swipe at her cheek and guilt overwhelmed me about how I had reacted to her simple question. Over the past few days, I had allowed her a few brief glimpses of the real Tyler Burnham, instead of the Tyler Burnham I had become in order to entice her into my deceptive arms. And each time, I felt as if she was beginning to possess another piece of my heart, of my soul. That by sharing my pain, she was chasing away my demons. I couldn’t allow that to happen anymore. This wasn’t about my past. It was about hers. Mine was completely irrelevant to the job at hand.

  “Everything okay, sir?” Eli cut into my thoughts.

  Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, leaning against the window. “No. Hasn’t been for years now.”

  “Thinking of Melanie again, sir?” he asked.

  “You don’t have to call me sir, Eli,” I said. “And yeah. Of course. I can’t remember a day I haven’t thought about her since I met her.”

  “I’m sorry, Ty.”

  “Me, too.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  PACING MY LIVING ROOM, every step I took was another reminder that everything about my life was a lie. I needed to get out of there to clear my mind. I threw some clothes into a duffle bag, hopped into my Bronco, and left the island for the first time in months.

  After a three hour drive into the barren flatland of mid-Texas, I pulled up to a compound fenced in by high brick walls and barbed wire. It appeared to be a prison, which was the point. Stopping in front of the guard shack, I flashed my company ID. After checking my credentials, the employee opened the metal gate. Signs directed new trainees to the different areas of Burnham & Associates’ training facility, but I knew the place like the back of my hand. I remembered coming here with my dad when I was barely a teenager. I fired my first gun on the range at the age of twelve. I played on the tactical course whenever I could, thinking how fun it was to have my own real life video game, not realizing the purpose for the course until years later.

  I drove toward the administration building and parked in the spot assigned to me. Making a quick run into my office, I went to the armored door, punching in a secure code. It buzzed and I entered my private armory of weapons I had collected over the past few years…some tactical firearms meant for combat, some guns for everyday use, some historic weapons from one of the many wars the United States fought in. Scanning the rows, I found a Benelli tactical 12-gauge shotgun and grabbed it. I returned to my office and pulled out a pair of military fatigues and a t-shirt from my closet, changing quickly. After lacing up a pair of boots, I collected the shotgun and holstered my pistol, dashing out of my office and running the mile up to one of the tactical courses on the company’s enormous property.

  Punching my clearance code into the gate, I was granted entry. I followed the wall just outside the course and entered another code into another door, climbing down a set of stairs into an underground command room. Computers and monitors, as well as a large whiteboard and a few desks where training supervisors conducted pre-simulation briefings with their teams, surrounded me. I grabbed the clipboard hanging on the back of the door and was surprised when I saw that no training teams were expected to use the course until the following day.

  I booted up the computer and initiated a sequence, bolting back up the stairs and onto the open field. Drawing my weapon, I chambered a round and stood at the ready. I heard the sound of shots being fired and began running, finally able to focus on something other than Mackenzie and what could happen to her. I was battling myself, my feelings for her confusing. I wanted her, but I didn’t. I needed her, but I wasn’t supposed to. I was on edge and needed to feel in control of something.

  Crawling through a trench, I spied a figure and fired my shotgun, taking out two targets back-to-back. I kept down, remembering all the times I had run through the same area during my time in training, never knowing exactly what program my training sergeant had selected for our team. I had struggled to earn their respect, most of them under the impression I was only there because of my last name, but once I began rising before the sun and practicing on the course when the rest of my team slept, I slowly began to be seen as a colleague, an equal. And now as their superior.

  Pushing up out of the trench and hoisting myself over a wall, I continued running through the course, dodging blanks, shooting at targets. All the while, my heart was beginning to race from a combination of adrenaline and fatigue. But I couldn’t quit. I didn’t know how. I was taught to see the mission through to the end, regardless of the possible consequences. And that was exactly what I would do now…and with Mackenzie.

  Turning a corner, I ran into a building much like those I had seen on deployment in the Middle East, and swept the first room, firing several rounds at more targets. My blood was pumping and I was lost in the moment. It didn’t matter that I was more than aware the shots fired at me were from pre-programmed blanks. I felt as if one false move could be the difference between life and death. It kept me on my toes, my only thoughts of my next move and nothing else. For the first time since meeting Mackenzie, my brain wasn’t in a fog. Everything was clear. All I needed to do was focus on eliminating the targets threatening me.

  I finished clearing the building and darted toward the final obstacle, running with intensity. Spotting the last target, I pulled out my pistol and fired with the precision I had learned and mastered over the past several years. Visibly relaxing after successfully completing the course, I slowed my steps and placed my hands on my thighs, trying to catch my breath. Sweat trickled from my brow, and my shirt was stained with perspiration. I wiped my forehead with my arm, but it didn’t help.

  “Nice job, Ty,” I heard from the back gate.

  I shot my head up, surprised to see my brother there in his own fatigues. Even though he was nine years older than me, we looked nearly identical, although he was a bit more muscular. He had the same dark hair and green eyes as me. He was maybe an inch taller but, other than that, it was readily apparent we were related. His features had taken on a more distinguished quality as he neared forty, while my face still retained a bit of the boyish youth I seemed to have trouble shaking, regardless that I would be turning twenty-nine in a few months.

  “Alex,” I said, my chest still heaving from running through that obstacle course alone when it usually took a team of six to clear it. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  Alexander stepped toward me and held out a bottle of water. I took it, nodding in appreciation before downing practically the entire thing. It felt good, my throat dry from the hot Texas sun and the physical exertion.

  “I saw your car out front after I got out of a briefing. What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to think.”

  “About what?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the wall.

  “Just stuff,” I replied, trying to brush it off.

  “Ty,” Alexander said gravely. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing,” I answered nonchalantly, shrugging.

  He eyed me for several long moments, obviously aware of my agitation. “You have stronger feelings for Mackenzie than you were anticipating, don’t you?”

  I ran my hands through my hair and began pacing under the setting sun. “Yes… No.” I faced Alexander. “Hell, I don’t know.”

  He pushed off the wall and placed his hand on my shoulder in a consoling nature. “That’s the difficult part about working an asset to get the information you need. You spend so much time with them, the line between the job and your personal life becomes blurred. It’s i
nevitable you’ll start to think you have real feelings toward them, but you don’t. That’s not real, not when it’s based on complete lies. You need to remind yourself every second of every day that she’s merely an asset, a means to a very important end. Nothing more.”

  “So what happens when it’s over? When we find out where her father is? How do I tell her everything I had her believe was a lie?” I asked.

  “You don’t explain anything,” he replied harshly. “Not what information you were after. Nothing. You need to get his location without letting on why or she could warn him and he’ll disappear for another fifteen years. You will need to walk away clean.”

  “Do you really expect me, or any of us, to walk away and put her life at risk?” I asked urgently.

  “Tyler, if she’s involved in criminal activity…” He eyed me suspiciously.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Alex!” I declared passionately. “What if there’s more to this whole story than we’ve all been led to believe?”

  “What makes you say that?” He took a step toward me, studying my demeanor.

  “It’s just…” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts. Lowering my voice, I continued, “The past few days, there have been a number of break-ins at her place. Sunday, an ex of hers was hiding in her condo when she got home. Then yesterday, there was a window open and, during the night, another window was broken. Not to mention she’s been getting strange phone calls. A guy, who I think is the person behind the calls, scared the shit out of her at my club the other night.”

  “Who’s this ex?”

  “His name’s Charlie. I didn’t ask a last name because I didn’t want to set off any alarms with her, but after doing a bit of digging, Eli found out it’s a Charles Patrick Montgomery. He used to be assigned to the Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment before taking a job with the Cryptology division of Army Counterintelligence at Fort Hood. After working there for a few years, he was ‘reassigned’ to the psych ward at Walter Reed. His file indicated he has schizophrenic tendencies, but it’s being controlled with medication. The rest of his file is sealed, including his discharge papers so, other than that, I couldn’t dig any deeper, even with my security clearance. And here’s the kicker… He knows about her father.”

  Alexander furrowed his brow. “Really?”

  “Yeah. She had mentioned he had an episode during her freshman year of college, insisting she wasn’t who she said she was and her real father was alive, which she vehemently denied.” I paused, noticing a perplexed look on my brother’s face. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that someone who worked in Cryptology was put in the psych ward for schizophrenic tendencies, the only evidence of that being his outburst about her father?”

  “It could be nothing more than a coincidence, but I’ll look into this guy. At the very least, he’s a potential loose cannon we need to keep an eye on. He could blow the entire operation. What about the break-ins? And the phone calls? Was it Charlie?”

  “Not likely. I had one of the guys hack into the building’s system and get camera feeds. We found a guy scaling down from the roof to her floor, which is the top, and then back up again. And his stature doesn’t match Montgomery’s. The guy from last night was shorter, maybe six-foot, and pretty slim. Montgomery is almost as big as us, so there’s no way in hell it could have been him.”

  “Maybe it’s someone working with Montgomery?” Alexander offered.

  “Could be. Or maybe it’s something else entirely. We need to consider the possibility that someone else could be trying to trace Mackenzie to her past and connect her to her father. Based on his file, he’s amassed quite a few enemies.”

  Alexander nodded curtly. “Right. Have you clued Eli in on the entire operation?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Like you suggested, I’ve only fed him snippets of information and only when it’s necessary.”

  “It may be time to brief him on this. He’s a good sounding board and could help you put the pieces together. This is becoming a bit more complex than I had originally planned. Have him send me the footage from Mackenzie’s building and I’ll get analytics on it immediately. In the meantime, keep a very close eye on her. She may be the only person who knows of Galloway’s whereabouts and nothing can happen to her while you work her for the information.”

  My cell phone began to ring and I grabbed it out of my cargo pants, unease washing over me when I saw Mackenzie’s name appear on the caller ID.

  “Is it…?” Alexander asked.

  I simply nodded.

  “Answer it. I’ll give you some privacy.”

  My brother retreated and I composed myself before answering the call. “Burnham here,” I said curtly.

  “Hi, Tyler,” Mackenzie’s song-like voice replied. There was a hardness to her tone that had been absent over the past few days, and I knew it was because of the way I had acted toward her when I left this morning.

  “Mackenzie,” I said. “I want to−”

  “You asked me to call when I got to San Antonio, so that’s what I’m doing,” she interrupted.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

  There was a long pause as I waited for her to respond.

  “Mackenzie, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” she said and I could tell she was trying to cover the pain in her voice.

  “Are you okay?” I asked softly.

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “Mackenzie, I shouldn’t have snapped at you this morning. I’m sorry. I’m trying to get you to tell me about yourself, but the second you ask about my own past, I push you away.”

  “It’s okay,” she responded, her tone still cold. “Let’s not pretend this is anything more than what it is, Tyler.”

  “And what is it?”

  “It’s nothing. Like you said, we’ll have some fun on Friday, then we’ll both go our separate ways.”

  “Is that what you truly want, Mackenzie?” I asked, part of me wanting her to walk away to save herself. But I knew, even if that happened, someone else would be tasked with my job, and their method of obtaining the information may not be as civilized.

  “Yes, it is. Since meeting you, I’ve turned into someone I swore I never would be. Someone who abandons responsibility for a member of the opposite sex. I’ve been letting Jenna down. I’ve been letting the restaurant down. And, most of all, I’ve let myself down. Goodbye, Tyler.”

  “Mackenzie, wait!”

  I heard her exhale loudly. “What?” she asked, her voice wavering.

  “Her name was Melanie.”

  There was a long pause and my heart raced with nervous anticipation. I prayed my move of opening up would bring us back to where we were.

  “Did you love her?” she asked finally, her voice softening.

  “With all my heart,” I answered honestly. “After I lost her, I was beside myself with grief. I could barely eat. I could barely sleep. You were right. I joined the navy because it gave me a routine and helped me stop thinking about her. I did my four years and then left, hoping I’d be able to get back to civilian life, but I still saw her in every girl. My family accused me of pushing everyone away, and I did. I was so convinced I’d never be able to feel the same way about anyone, that I’d never find love again. Lightning rarely strikes the same place twice. But Mackenzie,” I said, my voice, my heart, my soul overwhelming with an emotion I had fought against since I first felt her breath on my skin, “I’m beginning to think Melanie was simply a passing storm. The more time I spend with you, the more I’m starting to think you’re my lightning strike. So please, just give me a chance to prove that to you.”

  The line grew quiet again before I heard a subtle whimpering on the other end.

  “Mackenzie, are you okay?”

  “You suck, you know that?!” she shouted through her obvious tears. “All day long, I tried to convince myself I didn’t care about you, but then you have to go and say something like that. I never cry and, in the past few da
ys, I’ve done more crying than I have in years.”

  “I don’t mean to make you−”

  “But these tears, Tyler… They’re different. They’re happy tears, kind of like my heart is so full of a strange emotion that it can’t contain it so the excess flows from my eyes. And this… This is fucking scary for me. I’ve been here before and it ended horribly. I hated how I felt, how weak and powerless I was. That’s why I need to control every aspect of my life. That’s the reason for the timetable and the routine.” She took a deep breath. “You better bring your A-game on Friday because I want you to be the reason I finally throw out that blasted timetable. Just don’t make me regret this decision.”

  A brilliant smile crossed my face and, for a minute, I pretended I wasn’t dating her just because it was my job. I acted as if this was a real relationship because, in my mind, it was becoming one.

  “I won’t, Mackenzie. I promise. I’ll see you when you get home tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have more important things to worry yourself with than seeing me.”

  “Why do you do that?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Degrade yourself,” I replied. “I’m not one for idle relationships, Mackenzie. If I didn’t think you were worth my time, I would not be spending it with you. So don’t, for a second, think seeing you is a waste of my time. It’s not. In fact, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do than see you.” My voice became low and heated, thinking how true those words were.

  “Oh, really?” she responded coyly.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Well, there may be one or two other things I’d enjoy, but they still involve you.”

  “And, in this fantasy, would I happen to have my clothes on or off?”

  I chuckled, my smile reaching my eyes as a training team ran by on a group march. “You’ll have to torture me to get that information.”

  “Oh, I plan on it, Tyler,” she responded, her voice exuding all the sensuality I had come to adore about her. “You think you’ll ruin me for all men who come after you? Well, I’ll tell you something, Mr. Burnham. Once you get a taste of me, nothing will ever be the same again. Food will lose its appeal. Your world will be devoid of color. And you’ll never be able to look at another woman without seeing my pink lips.”

 

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