by David Yates
He looked at her. She gazed back silently, the I-want line saying everything that needed to be said. Her arms were still lying atop his shoulders.
Braden threw up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right, Spunky, you win. But we're doing this my way. Understood?"
She packed away the I-want line and gave his lips a brief peck. “I can live with that,” she said with a smile.
Braden stood by the desk watching in awe as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Occasionally her right hand would flash to the mouse and click, and then the keys would catch fire again.
"Where did you learn how to do all this?” he asked. For all his intelligence, he was still not good at IT work; he simply had never studied those areas. He could have taught himself long before now, but he had always had Manny. After Manny's death, he had lived here with no computer. He had taught himself to type around the age of ten; he knew his way around Windows and could surf the Web, but that was just about the extent of his computer knowledge.
Kendra responded, “My father's a computer programmer. He taught me a few things.” She wore the barest hint of a smile.
"I'd say he taught you more than a few things,” Braden said. “Can you decode encrypted files? That's one of the things I've been having problems with."
"I may be able to,” Kendra answered. “And if I can't, there's usually a back door where you can sneak in if you know what you're doing."
"Have you found anything on Silas yet?"
"No,” she said, “but if what you've told me about this Anson and his partners is true, I'm sure there won't be a glaring file titled ‘Silas’ Personal Information’ or anything like that. The file name is likely to be in some type of code. It may be a simple code or a complex one. I won't know until I find it. Do you know anything at all about Silas? That may help locate the file."
"No, nothing at all,” Braden said. He added, “But most mercenaries are ex-military. After seeing Silas in action, I think it's probable that he was in the service."
"Okay, that might help,” Kendra said. “Did he speak with an accent? That would help narrow down which country's military he may have served in."
"Not only spunky, but smart, too,” Braden said. “No, he spoke with an American accent. If you held a gun to my head, I'd say it was a Midwestern accent, if anything."
"Okay,” she said. “That gives me somewhere to start."
He watched her in silence for a few minutes as she worked. Without turning to him, she said, “I've got this. Go relax. You're giving me the heebie-jeebies looking over my shoulder like that."
"You sure?” he asked.
"Go ahead, get lost, copper,” she said in an absolutely horrible impression of Edward G. Robinson.
Braden went to the deck and sat in his favorite chair. He watched the moon as it darted in and out of the clouds.
Around midnight, Braden came awake with a start. He looked around and tried to get his bearings. He was still sitting on the deck. A light rain was beginning to fall, and the droplets hitting his face had awakened him. He got up and walked inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He went to the office and peeked in. Kendra was still bent over the keyboard, her face leaned in toward the computer screen.
"Hey,” he said.
"Hey yourself,” she responded without looking at him.
"I take it you're staying here tonight."
She glanced at him. “I might as well.” She leaned back and stretched in her chair. She was braless and her breasts strained against the front of her spaghetti-strap blouse. She rubbed her reddened eyes with her fingers. “I'm going to be busy here for awhile."
"No, you're not,” Braden said. “You're tired and you need to sleep. Come on."
He saw the I-want line trying to form, and this time he succeeded in squashing it. He crossed to her and took her hand, pulling her out of the chair. “Come, on, you're going to bed."
She allowed herself to be led to the bedroom. She lay down and he covered her, giving her a kiss on the forehead. By the time he undressed and lay down beside her, she was already breathing regularly in a deep sleep.
Braden awoke the next morning alone in the bed. A bar of sunlight lay across the bed. He could smell food cooking and coffee perking. He dressed and went into the kitchen. Kendra was at the stove making eggs and bacon. She was wearing one of his shirts and had her hair wrapped in a towel.
"Morning, Spunky,” he said pertly.
"Good morning, and my name's not Spunky,” she replied pleasantly enough. As if to disprove this statement she added, “I hope you like your eggs scrambled, ‘cause that's what you're getting.” She dished the eggs and bacon onto plates and added toast.
"That's fine, Spunk...Kendra,” he said with an evil smile. He turned and began walking out of the kitchen and was promptly hit in the back of the head with a flying piece of scrambled egg. He turned back and saw her standing with her feet apart, grinning openly, challenging him. He started toward her at a slow pace, and she flew out of the kitchen's side door with a squeal. He chased her through the house and caught her in the living room. He tackled her to the carpeted floor. Their wrestling soon turned to lovemaking.
Afterward, as they lay on the carpet in each other's arms, she said, “Your breakfast is cold now."
"That's okay,” he replied. “I have a microwave."
The next two weeks passed without much success on Kendra's end. She had pretty much taken over Braden's duties at the computer. She was working in the office about the same amount of hours that Braden had been before he had started seeing her. Braden found himself getting very bored and restless. She would spend her time working in the office, and he would spend his time driving her nuts.
One afternoon, Braden was aimlessly roaming around the house, and decided to go for a short walk on the beach. He left his yard and started south. He had only walked about three hundred yards away when he heard Kendra calling his name. He turned and saw her on the deck, waving at him to come back. He jogged back and entered his yard. He looked up at her as she gripped the railing.
"I think I found something,” she said excitedly.
Braden dashed up the stairs and followed her into the office. She seated herself and Braden stepped behind the chair, leaning over her shoulder and looking at the monitor.
"I was searching through the file names and I came across this one.” She pointed to the screen at a file titled SS101AB-V. Kendra continued. “Turns out the file name was in code, and it was a ridiculously simple one. What did you say the guy's name was who owned this drive?"
"Miller,” Braden replied absently, looking at the screen.
"Well, I didn't know the man, but it's obvious that Mr. Miller wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. A fairly bright junior-high-school kid could have found the file with the name he put on it."
Braden was examining the file name. “Okay, I'm guessing one of the S's stands for Silas. The other one may be the initial of his other name. ‘101AB'...wait. 101st Airborne?"
She grinned. “Bingo."
"What about the V?” he asked.
"Viper,” she said. “That was apparently the code name of his military unit when he was in, and it's the code name he still uses for himself now."
"So I guess that means you were able to access the file?"
"Right again,” she said. She put her hand on the mouse and clicked. “I was able to get in that back door I told you about. They have everything on him in here. His date of birth, military and medical records, his address, everything. They even have pictures of his house."
Braden raised his fist triumphantly in the air. He grabbed Kendra's face and kissed her soundly. “You're beautiful,” he said with a grin.
"I know,” she said primly.
He turned his attention back to the screen. She watched his profile for a few moments. “What are you going to do now?” she said softly.
"I'm going to make him pay,” Braden said simply. “He's going to be sorry he ever cr
ossed me."
"Braden, look at me."
He turned his face to hers. She placed her hands on his cheeks and gazed directly into his eyes. “I know you feel like you have to get your revenge,” she said. “I don't like it, but I've accepted it. It's the reason I decided to help you. But don't underestimate this man. He is a professional killer, and he has earned a living at it for a very long time. Just the little bit that I've seen of this file convinces me of that."
When he didn't respond, she continued. “I'm going to try one more time. Cry off. Let it go. Please. I don't want to lose you."
Braden knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. He thought for a moment to get the words right, then began to speak.
"Ever since I left that place in Washington, I've thought long and hard about my purpose. I've asked myself time and time again, ‘what am I here for?’ What is the meaning of my life? What am I supposed to do with these gifts that I have? You know all about my intelligence level, but with all of those smarts, there's nothing that I am able to do or that I want to do with my life. I can't paint a picture, I can't hit a fast ball, I can't write music. Sure, I guess I could learn to do some job, and I could learn it quickly. But if I did that, I would be running away from my responsibilities.
"I feel like God has put me here and given me these gifts for a reason. If I turned my back on these gifts and walked away, I would be doing a disservice to God and to myself. Anson and his buddies wanted me to kill for their own gain. I've come to realize that I feel a deep-rooted duty and responsibility to use my gifts for a good cause."
He paused, letting his words sink in. They must have had an effect on her, because there were two small tears standing in the corners of her eyes. As he watched, one broke free and rolled down her face.
"Silas is a bug. He has hurt untold numbers of people in his ‘career'. I genuinely believe that people like him are the reason for my existence. I feel like I'm supposed to go after him and others like him. That idea just feels right to me, deep down in my gut.
"I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's what I feel with every fiber of my being. I was meant to do this. It's my destiny, and I intend to fulfill it.” He paused, reaching up to caress her cheek. “Do you understand?"
She nodded without speaking. He pressed on.
"I won't apologize for trying to send you away when I first met you, because I did it out of concern for your welfare. But now that you're in here,” and he tapped his chest just above his heart, “I'd like for you to stick around and support me. Because, to be honest, I don't know if I can do this without you now.
"I love you, Kendra."
Her face broke into a sob and she hugged him fiercely. “I love you, too,” she whispered into his ear.
Braden had gleaned all he could from the file on the hard drive. Silas’ house was in a remote location in Utah. The pictures of the house in the file showed a large, handsome modern log home, probably worth quite a bit of money. The house was accessible by gravel road, and its backyard was thousands of acres of mountainous, tree-covered wilderness. There was no information in the file about whether or not Silas had any close neighbors, but Braden was betting that there was no one for miles around, considering Silas’ occupation and demeanor.
Braden had made plans to travel to Utah the next night. His intent was to get a nearby motel room and make his way to Silas’ house the following night. However, on the night that Kendra had discovered and accessed the file, she walked into the bathroom where Braden had just gotten out of the shower and blew his plans to smithereens.
Braden saw the I-want line as soon as she walked in. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew it meant trouble.
"I'm going with you,” she announced firmly.
"Oh, no you're not,” he said.
She said nothing; she simply placed her hands on her hips and glared at him, turning up the intensity of the crease on her brow even more than it already was. He turned fully to face her.
"Oh, no you're not," he repeated, emphasizing the last word.
"This isn't open for discussion,” she said flatly. “I'm going and that's it."
"You couldn't go with me even if I wanted you to, which I do not,” he said. “I don't have the capability to take someone with me when I travel."
"I know,” she replied promptly. “That's why we're taking a plane. I just made the reservations."
"Now, hold on a second...” Braden began.
"I said, it's not open for discussion,” she interrupted. “Our flight leaves from Tallahassee tomorrow morning at 11:30. We connect in Atlanta and fly to Salt Lake City. We'll be there tomorrow evening.” And with that, she turned and walked out of the room. He stood and gaped at the spot that she had just vacated.
He followed in her wake and found her on the deck, sitting calmly and watching the low waves roll in. “What makes you think that I'd ever agree to this?” he asked. “Right now, Silas doesn't even know you exist, and I mean to keep it that way."
She turned her face to him. Her brow still wore that damnable crease that he hated and loved. “I'm not going to his house with you,” she said. “I'm staying in the hotel. He'll never even know I'm there."
Braden sat down, a towel still wrapped around his waist. “It's just too dangerous. I can't allow it."
"Then it's fortunate that you have no say in the matter,” she said perkily. “Discussion over."
Braden could think of nothing else to say. As the silent seconds spun out and became a silent minute, he knew his very silence had sealed his fate. He had lost again.
And considering how things turned out in Utah, maybe losing wasn't such a bad thing, after all.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 14
When their flight landed in Salt Lake City, they rented a car and drove to a hotel. They checked in using the fake ID that Manny had provided for Braden a couple of centuries ago. They went to their room and Kendra sat down on the bed.
"How far are we from his house?” she asked.
"About a hundred and thirty miles,” he said distractedly. Now that the showdown was approaching, Kendra had noticed that Braden had begun to close himself off. All during the flight, he had been moody and quiet. She had tried to start up a conversation with him several times, keeping the mood light. She hadn't gotten very far.
"And you can...travel that distance with no problem?” she asked.
"Yes.” He sat down next to her. “In fact, I should be able to go there and back without a rest in between."
He had explained to her the need for rest after he traveled. He had told her that the distance he went determined how much juice he had left in his internal batteries. If he traveled a short distance, he was usually able to go back to his starting point without resting.
She got up and crossed to the desk, picking up the room-service menu. “Are you hungry?"
Braden shook his head. “You go ahead and get something. You haven't eaten anything since breakfast this morning."
She picked up the phone and dialed room service. She ordered a club sandwich and fries. She hung up the phone and turned back to Braden.
"So what do you plan to do?"
"I'm going to go out there tonight and scout things out. See if he's got a fence, an alarm system, things like that. I don't want to walk into any surprises. I should only be gone maybe 15 minutes."
"He may not even be there,” Kendra speculated.
Braden gave her a look that said don't even bring that up. “I hope that's not the case,” he said. “I want to get this over with, one way or the other."
She went to him and straddled his lap, facing him and lacing her fingers together behind his neck. She looked him steadily in the eye and said, “Well, you better make sure it's one way and not the other, mister.” She put her hand under his chin and raised his eyes to hers. “Do you understand me?"
Braden knew that she was trying to act like her old tough self, but he could see the fear swimming
deep in her eyes. For her sake, he tried to lighten the mood. “Yeah, yeah, okay, Spu..."
She clapped a hand over his mouth. “And if you call me Spunky, I'll rip your tongue out."
He executed a tight salute. “Message received, Captain."
Braden was anxious to get the evening's activities started, but he thought that if he left now, she would be too troubled and worried to eat her dinner. He waited until it had arrived and she had finished. She placed her plate on the service tray and put it in the hallway just outside their door. When she closed the door and turned back, Braden was donning his duster.
For just one fleeting moment, Braden saw dismay flash across her face. She covered it quickly and assumed her tough-girl demeanor.
They looked across the room at each other. Kendra set her face and went to him. She planted delicate kisses on his left cheek, his right cheek, his lips. “You'd better come back to me,” she said softly. “If you get yourself killed, I swear I'll never speak to you again."
Braden nodded but didn't promise her anything. He couldn't promise her anything. The words she had spoken in Florida were floating across the front of his mind. Don't underestimate this man. He is a professional killer...
He reached behind him and withdrew the .380 from the holster at the small of his back. He wordlessly handed it out toward her.
She stared at it as if she'd never seen a gun before. She looked back at him. He hefted it in her direction again and said, “Take it. Just in case."
"Just in case what?” she demanded.
Braden shrugged. “Just in case."
