by J. D. Hale
I fixed my hair so that some of it was sticking out, instead of in the pristine way I preferred. Popping in some blue contacts, I looked at my eyes in the mirror. Instead of pure black, they were now a navy. It hardly helped, and now my vision was murky blue. I took them out, figuring it didn’t matter anyways, as I would be wearing dark sunglasses. I took off all of my jewelry, engraved with my initials, KRD, and put on a bracelet purchased at a bazaar in India years back – a braided brown leather band fastened with a silver button.
Now, for the weaponry. My absolute favorite. Concealed inside my mundane bracelet was a small laser, activated with the flick of a wrist. On my sunglasses sat four cameras, hidden away but recording every motion. I slipped on the family ring, a black diamond with the silver Dunham crest engraved under it. The diamond itself was filed into an impeccably sharp point, coated with poison – lethal with one swift punch to the throat. On the back of the ring, a small, retractable needle point covered in a sedative would be activated if my pulse quickened – one slap to the face, or even a seemingly friendly handshake and I would be safe. My gorgeous dagger strapped to the back of my thigh would provide crucial defense in a dangerous situation, as it was my weapon of choice. In my hair were humane looking bobby pins. They were sharpened into deadly points with razor blade sides, the most functional of all my weapons. All of that plus the fact that I’ve been training since I was barely able to walk insured me a safe meeting. And, even if it wasn’t safe, a dangerous and exciting fight. If everything went as planned, I wouldn’t technically have to wear any of this later in the day, as we would most likely make it into the Hyatt – one of my many permanently booked rooms all over the worlds – to discuss plans. This isn’t something I would talk about in the open.
But, with me, it’s rare that anything goes according to plan.
An hour later, Rowan and I departed in the Wasp to Egypt.
I climbed up the ladder shakily, not used to having on flats. Rowan sat down in the passenger’s seat, surprising me.
“Aren’t you driving?” I asked, since he was superior to me, at least with flying.
“No, I figured you might as well.”
“Alright then.” I replied, slipped on my driving gloves and slid into the seat.
Once we reached the speed of light, I just sat by and waited for our arrival in Cairo.
June 12th 10:54 am
Cairo, Egypt, Planet Earth: Adarian Dunham Estate
“We have exactly ten minutes,” I told my father impatiently as he hugged Rowan and I upon our surprise arrival.
“Well, that’s enough time to go upstairs and see your siblings,” He said, kissing the top of my head. Rowan nodded toward the steps.
We walked up together. I was mentally preparing myself for seeing Bronwyn, my older sister who turned nineteen a week ago, Elaina, seventeen, and Izan, my twenty year old brother. It had been years, and I had grown older, wiser, taller, and stronger than most of them.
Wynn had stopped training when she was eleven, Izan shortly after. They gave up the family business, as we call it, and took up their desired professions. Elaina was the only one – besides Rowan, of course – who could almost match me physically if not mentally. She would want a rematch from the time when I, only eleven years old (the last time I saw her), had beaten my twelve year old sister. Now, I was sixteen, she was seventeen, and I was still the better for all our years apart.
“Kairee Rose, could that curvy young lady be you?” Wynn said, hugging me. She was three inches shorter, with our father’s dark hair, the family eyes, and tan skin that had popped up from nowhere and yet had hit my two of my older siblings.
“Yes, Bronwyn Elise, it’s me,” I rolled my eyes, accentuating her hated middle name to show her yet again how I despised mine. It was much too girlish to be the name of a criminal mastermind.
“I hear you’re now wanted on another planet – the one we’re on right now. How did you manage that?” She scoffed, a mix of teasing an sadness in her tinny voice..
“I…stole something,” I told her softly.
Her eyes widened slowly. “What?”
“Just…a painting,” I continued guardedly, but thankfully didn’t have to explain more since Elaina walked up to us. Her own tan skin was just a shade lighter than Wynn’s, and she had a clear complexion. Unlike the rest of the family, Elaina had less than perfect eyesight. At the moment, she had on streamlined, clear framed glasses that seemed to make her large eyes even wider. She had long golden hair, something I had always envied as a child but now preferred my pale locks.
“I hope you’ve been training.” Elaina threatened.
I rolled my eyes, “Hello to you too.”
“Hi. But, I will beat you this time.”
“In your dreams, Laina,” I sighed.
“I don’t know, Kairee, she’s been training like crazy. I think she could beat you, little girl,” Izan, who I hadn’t noticed standing behind me, cut in. I took in my eldest brother – whom I looked strikingly similar to. He was more like my twin than Rowan, in all honesty. We had the same pale skin and hair so blonde it was almost white, the same intuition and wit, and the same scrawny-looking weight. He was taller than me in my stilettos – an impressive 6’4, even for a muscular boy standing on twenty.
“Whatever you say. We’ll see later, I suppose. Rowan and I have to go meet a future client,” I said, and they all gave us curious looks before going off to their rooms, Wynn and Izan making bets on the battle that would happen soon enough, if Elaina had anything to do with it.
“Let’s go, then.” I turned to Rowan, who stood stoically by the door.
“How will we get there, since we can’t legally drive on this planet?” Rowan asked, always one to stick to regulations in order to avoid suspicion.
“Has legally ever been a problem?” I smiled, grabbing the keys to our father’s shiny sleek convertible.
We arrived at the hotel a minute later, 11:03, going thirty miles above the speed limit as we weaved through traffic. I walked out slowly, putting on sunglasses to shield my eyes from the blazing Egyptian sun and any cameras that were undoubtedly watching. They were deep purple shades that covered more of my face than necessary. The courtyard of the Hyatt was stone, with lush green ivy growing on the walls.
Rowan escorted me, nodding to the maître de, to a table discretely hidden by an untreated acacia tree. We sat down, and I surveyed the surroundings, taking in every detail, every person. Anything and everything was filed into my large brain for a whole minute. When I was done, I glanced up at the gate, where a tall boy was standing in a suit and tie. He was stunningly handsome, I surprised myself by noticing. Normally, the looks of someone simply struck me as attractive or unattractive based on easy math. With my better-than-perfect vision, I could see his piercing green eyes and the curly black hair falling in front of them. He had a deep tan latched onto his skin, a native to the area, and his muscles tensed as he clenched and unclenched his fists from nerves. He was probably a few inches taller than me – at maybe six foot, two inches or a little over. We locked eyes for a split second, and he walked over casually, as if to a class in school rather than meeting the most prestigious criminals in the galaxy. In that instant, I knew who he was, confirming or denying any ideas that had previously occurred to me. He looked strikingly like his father, one of my past associates…and murder victims.
“Kairee Dunham, what a pleasure,” he smiled, offering his hand. I declined, as did Rowan, to shake it.
“Salah the Younger,” I smirked in acknowledgement, waiting for his reaction.
“You know who I am?” He whispered, obviously stunned.
“But of course – did you think I wouldn’t remember my most hated accomplice’s son?” I asked mockingly, trying implicitly to be insensitive to judge all his emotional control.
“He was a bastard anyway,” Salah chuckled. “Well, after that great start, I suppose we should get to it, then.”
We ordered lunch with a rather fi
dgety waitress who seemed spectacularly anxious for taking an average day meal.
He rambled on with small talk that we didn’t pay any attention to.
“Why didn’t you follow my instructions?” I asked angrily, cutting off something he was about to say and interrupting his every train of thought.
He feigned confusion, but his eyes were laced with worry at my cold voice, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Our food arrived, and I looked at the pasta with dark green spices in distaste.
“Oh but you do. You’ve come armed with thirteen assassins; the most obvious was our red-haired waitress with a knife in her boot. Her right hand continued making the signed ‘K.’ And I’m just going out on a limb here, but you’re not deaf. I think it’s safe to assume it was a secret signal. That same waitress who attended to us just a moment ago, as I noticed, poured some sort of special spice, which is,” I picked up a leaf and smelled it, “a very rare plant found only in the forests of Zambia, which is known for its possession of the chemical cyanide – Bracken, is it? My knowledge of plant life is sadly lacking. If I would’ve taken a bite, you could’ve brought my corpse to a local Interpol station and retrieved a billion dollar reward. Of course, you would have to take out Rowan first, which I doubt you could do.”
Salah loosened his tie and replied nervously, “Merely precautions, I assure you. I simply wanted to-”
“I’m not finished.” I cut him off, irritated. “Secondly, you have a camera in your left eye, a common device where I’m from: a contact lens with a miniature camera inside. An older model that’s much more uncomfortable. Brilliant, really, if you know how to use them. By the way, your irises are a shade lighter than you had thought. You also have a patch of latex behind your left ear, which contains a small recording device,” I reached over and pulled it off. “You have snipers on the roof, much to my chagrin. Snipers are such a waste of time when hired by someone capable of using his own gun. Finally, you have a small needle, matching to mine, protruding from your ring, covered in a sedative. It was rather boneheaded of you to take such ‘precautions’ when I specifically told you not to, and it lowered your already minute chance of telling me your little plan,” I concluded, nonchalantly folding my hands in my lap.
“You’re just as charming as I was told,” he said sarcastically.
“And so much more.” I smirked a little, “Now, remove all of your devices, and meet my brother and me in our hotel room. You have one hour,” I said, pulling the key out of my pocket. “And if you again refuse to follow my simple instructions, I’ll have to dispose of you myself. Maybe it could become a family tradition.”
Rowan and I got up and walked in the hotel. I had a permanent arrangement with the hotel so that I – or anyone in my family, for that matter – could rent Suite 1409 whenever necessary. It was a penthouse with eight rooms.
Once we were in, I glanced at the receptionist, a small man with a sweaty dress shirt and khakis. He had a nervous face, his brow furrowed in constant frustration.
“Hi.” I smiled caringly, “My brother and I have a suite up on the top floor, and we’ll be up there for a bit. Until you see us leave, kindly make sure nobody interrupts.”
He nodded as if he didn’t hear, and my twin and I made our way to the elevators.
While Salah was doing whatever he was doing, Row and I returned to the rooms, where we both changed into something more business appropriate. He wore a suit and tie, and I changed into a sleeveless turquoise blouse and dark gray dress pants. I slipped on a diamond necklace – one I had crafted from a large diamond from a crown jewel, stolen a few months back – that had a higher carat than any other. It was on a pure silver chain, and the center diamond was the size of a silver dollar. Letting down my hair, I looked in a floor to ceiling mirror at myself. Perfect, except for these high-tops. I took them off and pulled on some spiky black heels, making me six inches taller.
Rowan and I waited in a large sitting room for Salah to return. It was a huge area with a hulking fireplace and four plush leather arm chairs.
“So what do you think his proposal is?” Rowan asked curiously
“Honestly, no clue. Contrary to popular belief, I’m no mind reader,” I smiled.
“I’ve known you my whole life and I still don’t believe that. By the way, is that the Pamona diamond that we stole back when the two of us were only eight?” He asked, glancing at my necklace.
“Yes, you remember?”
“Of course, if was our first real theft, well, unless you count when we stole the Monroe William’s gold bracelet in the first grade…what caused mother to take us out of a real school system. The first grade and we had both been sent to the principal’s office more than a delinquent!” He laughed, and we smiled at the memory.
Changing the subject, I asked, “What do you think of Salah the Younger?”
“Well,” He replied, “for his sake, I hope he’s nothing like his father – dim-witted, overly masculine, and overall stupid,”
“That’s true,” I laughed, “but, I don’t get that vibe from him. I may not read minds, but I’m an excellent people-reader,”
“I know, you’ve read me like a book since we were kids,” He grinned, “I think you like him. More than most boys, I mean.”
“Excuse me?” I scoffed, attempting to mask my shock.
“Don’t make me say it again. You’ve paid utter attention to him and every detail minutely germane to him,” He reasoned.
“That is absolutely and completely ridiculous! I pay attention to everything and everyone.” I told him seriously.
“But, you’ve paid special attention to him. How else would you know that his eyes were one shade darker than he had thought?”
“So what? Just because I noticed that his eyes are shade forty two green does not mean that I like him.” I said, knowing how unconvincing I sounded.
“Well, we can just-”
There was a knock at the door, and Salah walked in, cutting off Rowan mid thought.
I turned my head to the Egyptian and saw that he had changed his tie to what I’m sure he knew was my favorite color scheme – red, black, and gold, the national colors of my home planet.
“My proposal?” He asked, sitting down.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“Well, what I have to offer you is this: power. You and I both know that you two may very well be the most powerful sixteen year olds in the universe – no doubt about it. But, your power is conditional. In a hundred years, who will remember Kairee and Rowan Dunham?” His opening statement was shocking and thought provoking, “But, if we band together and steal this,” He said, using his hands to emphasize the point, “the three of us will be remembered through the passing ages, for centuries, and children in school will learn about us in class, know our faces, our names, better than their own. We’ll be able to have utter control or none at all, whatever we want.” Salah said, leaning forward.
“What is it?” I thought aloud, leafing through every item I could think of that could be stolen. There were, of course, several castles in France that had some of the world’s most coveted treasures, and then, on my home planet alone there were between ten and fourteen million diamonds, devices, and treasures of various kinds.
“The Xeron.” He said, and those four syllables rang through my head. I felt my jaw go slack and my eyes widen.
A brief explanation of this jaw-dropping detail: The Xeron, kept thousands of feet under the Institute of Technology on my home planet and protected by the best security in the galaxy, is the latest technology on any planet. It’s got everything from mind reading capabilities to password finding, hacking, translating, and decrypting codes. Simply amazing – and absolutely impossible to steal. Stealing that is just very, very dangerous – so dangerous that even I, a person made famous for my huge risks and flashy crimes, wouldn’t dare try this attempt.
Rumors have swirled that everything and anything is guarding it. It’s been said by hundreds
of sources that there are everything from simple vaulted doors and trip wires to the incomprehensible force of dragons, collapsing walls, will manipulation, magic, and black holes. Most of these are ridiculous assumptions made by a public demanding something interesting, but such claims have to make you skeptical of what could really be lurking, just waiting to be discovered under the Institute.
“That’s…stupidly ingenious. If we were to do this, it would take months to train, get passwords. Plus, you’re probably not up to the mental and physical standards that my brother and I are used to.” I told him with a laugh.
“I’m sure I could beat you any time in a fight,” He countered.
“Is that a challenge?” I asked threateningly.
“If you accept my terms, yes.” He offered.
“Well then, I accept. Row?” I said, turning to my brother.
“It sounds intriguing, as long as he’s as good as he claims to be.” Rowan mocked
“I assure you, I’ll meet your standards.” Salah replied in a manner almost parallel to a silly sibling rivalry between brothers.
“So, as to that challenge: today. Our estate.” I told Salah.
“Whatever you say,” He smirked.
“Then why don’t we escort our guest back to the manor,” Rowan suggested calmly.
A few minutes later, we were sitting in the car, and I was about to start it.
“Are you old enough to drive?” Salah asked nervously.
“Not legally. Are you?” I wondered.
“I’m seventeen. But should you really be driving?” His eyes widened.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I smiled, “And, considering I’m better than any all-star NASCAR driver…yes.” I countered.
“Alright then,” He said, putting on his seatbelt. He was the only one.
I drove forty over the limit on the way home, and Salah looked like he was about to have a heart attack. We arrived home – intact – and I walked up to the front door. I pressed my thumb against a screen, had my eyes scanned, typed in the password, typed it again, unlocked the door, and walked in.
