Taylor Made Owens

by R. D. Power

  They went to the office the morning of Robert’s appointment. Kristen sat shivering, her palms sweating, her breath short. She had to get up and walk around to quell some of the nervous energy. Then, there he was, looking gaunt and …

  “Oh, my God!” she shrieked, putting her hand to her mouth. “They beat him. They tortured him!” Faint bruises were still evident on his face and arms, and he looked haggard; constant nightmares were stealing his repose. “I’m so sorry,” she called, as he was being escorted to the prosecutor’s office.

  On spotting Kristen, he lost it. “No! I don’t want to talk to her. Get Mrs. Solano out of my sight!”

  “No, Bobby, I’m not—”

  “I don’t want to see you!” he cut in. She began to cry. “Get away from me!” he screamed.

  Kristen ran down the hall in tears. Bill asked to see him alone for a few minutes. Robert agreed only because he was grateful for the inspector’s work to prove his innocence. Robert thanked him, but Bill gave Kristen the credit. “It was Krissy who proved your innocence, at considerable risk to herself, I might add. She also figured out that you were the unnamed soldier who helped get the news about the smallpox out.” Robert looked surprised, but said nothing. “At the news conference, the Irish inspector said the soldier was Canadian and American. Not too many of them in Delta Force, she guessed.” Robert nodded in confirmation. “You’re an impressive young man, Mr. Owens.” Bill reverted to the original topic. “Do you realize what a debt of gratitude you owe to Krissy?” he said calmly.

  “Gratitude? She ruined my life!”

  “She did nothing of the sort! All she did was tell the truth at the trial. She’s dying to talk to you.”

  “What for? She’s married to that bastard, so what can she ever mean to me again?”

  “I figured you still thought that when you called her Mrs. Solano. You wouldn’t give her the chance to explain that she called off the engagement soon after you were convicted. She stayed on long enough with him to find evidence that you were framed. The instant she found it, she left him.”

  After a moment’s reflection, Robert said, “I’m glad for her sake she didn’t marry that criminal, but I can never forgive her for what she did to me.”

  “Dominic and Judy were to blame. Krissy was not a perpetrator; she was a victim, like you.”

  He chuckled bitterly, “Like me? Was she tortured? Did someone electrocute her and beat her to a pulp? Did she witness all her friends getting slaughtered? Did she become a killer?”

  “I didn’t mean to imply you suffered equally. I’m truly sorry for everything you went through,” Bill said with emotion. “I just meant that she was as fooled by that bastard as you were.”

  “As fooled? I begged her to leave him. I didn’t trust him from the start. I was framed by a criminal and found guilty by an incompetent legal system. Kristen set the whole thing in motion by agreeing to marry him and finished me off with her testimony.”

  “And you bear no responsibility for your disgraceful behavior cheating on Krissy?” Bill took a deep breath and changed tactics. “She didn’t want to testify against you,” her father admitted. “She wanted to say you didn’t do any of it, but I insisted she tell the truth. Nothing more or less. That’s the way I was brought up; that’s the way I raised her.”

  “So, tell the truth to perpetuate a lie? Interesting way you cops think.”

  “We didn’t know it was a lie at the time.”

  “You should have. I never took any illegal drugs in my life. Kristen knew that. She shouldn’t have testified against me.”

  “But you are a thief, so you can’t blame her for assuming you stole the necklace, especially with the plant and the doctored evidence. All your other crimes—and only you know how many—went unpunished, so stop feeling the sting of injustice. What goes around comes around. Anyway, since I forced her to testify against her will, blame me.”

  “Her will or yours, the testimony ruined me.”

  “Just how are you ruined? You’re young. You have your life in front of you.”

  “Maybe … You know the only thing I ever wanted to be was a major league pitcher.” He held up his right hand. His index finger was a bit cockeyed. “I’m not sure I can do it anymore with a gimped up hand and messed up head. There’s a good possibility my future is gone.”

  “You’re a talented young man. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

  “I only wanted to be a ball player, but fate snatched it away via your daughter.”

  “Stop blaming this on Krissy!” said Bill. “She wasn’t in on the frame-up. She risked her life to prove your innocence. She was almost killed by a man that Judy hired.” Robert was appalled. “It’s true. He nearly choked her to death before I could get to him.” Robert’s face divulged his absolute shock. “Judy’s in prison for ten years. Krissy almost died for you. She still loves you and desperately wants to talk to you about that. Can I trust you not to attack her?”

  “I would never hurt her.”

  “Okay. You take care of the business of clearing your name. Then I’ll bring Krissy. If you’re foolish enough to dismiss her, let her down easily.” With that Bill left to tell Kristen.

  The prosecutor who’d convicted Robert came into the room along with a police officer. He held out his hand and offered his apologies. Robert just sat there glaring at him. “I see you’re not in a forgiving mood,” said he. Another surly look. Robert was dying to crush the man. He signed some documents.

  At last Robert said something: “I assume Dominic Solano spent some time in jail?”

  “No, unfortunately, he got off.”

  “What? You’re a first-class screw up, aren’t you?” The prosecutor suppressed his desire to rebut that declaration. “Tell me, have you ever convicted a guilty man?” Robert taunted further.

  “Mr. Owens,” he began haughtily, “I am a successful crown prosecutor—”

  “Don’t! Don’t you dare preach to me about how successful you are, with the misery you caused me, you son of a bitch!” Robert screamed. The officer stepped between the two to intervene. “Don’t worry,” Robert said to the cop, “I have no plans to attack anyone. If I did, you’d both be sprawled on the ground right now.” The officer laughed, and Robert stood up. Fortunately, Bill came back in at that point. Kristen stood just outside the open door, watching and listening.

  “Whoa, what’s going on here?” Bill said. “Calm down, Bob. May I ask for a minute alone with him?” The two left, with the cop, who had no idea how close he’d come to getting the most painful lesson of his life, glowering at Robert. “What was that about?” asked Bill.

  “That idiot told me Solano got off. I just want to scream!”

  “You were screaming. I have to warn you not to take the law into your own hands.”

  “I warned you if you didn’t take care of this I would.”

  “First of all, trying to get revenge on him would be very risky. He’s well guarded now.”

  “Do you think a couple of goons would pose any problem for me? I just killed half the Republican Guard.”

  “Okay, assuming you succeed in getting to him, what will you do? Are you really a murderer now?”

  “Good question. Am I? I’ve killed a lot of people. I had my government’s sanction, which I’m told gave me permission to kill. But tell me, does God recognize that public stamp of approval?”

  “If you assault him, you’ll go back to jail; if you kill him you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail. Is that scum worth it?”

  He smashed the table with his fist and roared, “Goddammit! He can’t just get away with it. I won’t let him.”

  Kristen came in and pleaded, “Please don’t go after him. Just forget he even exists. I have.”

  “How kind of you. I’m not so forgiving. I loathe injustice, especially when the victim is me. I need to see Solano suffer for what he did to me, to both of us!”

  “Killing him or maiming him will ruin your life. Please let go of yo
ur hatred.”

  “Drop it, Taylor. Your father said you want to talk to me.”

  Uneasy about what his odium would lead to and disheartened at his asperity, she said, “Okay, um, I wanted to say that I’m sorry for testifying against you, but I need you to know that I only told the truth. I tried to say I didn’t think you did it, but the prosecutor cut me off every time. I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”

  “Fine. Is that everything?” he said curtly.

  “No. Bobby, I still love you. Is there any chance for us?”

  “Surely you must know that you and I are poison together. Have we even spent a few months together without an argument or fight? How can you possibly love me with all you’ve been through on my account?”

  “That’s obviously what you feel about me, then. You don’t love me after all I’ve put you through.” He looked down. “I see,” she said sadly. “However you feel about me, I will always love you.”

  “You don’t even know me anymore. I’m a killer now—”

  “No!”

  “Listen to me! I ended the lives of at least ten human beings there. One of the soldiers I killed was maybe fourteen years old. That’s how old I was when I met you: just a little kid shoveling dirt. I shot him in the head,” he said with a trembling voice. “I see his dead eyes whenever I close my eyes. I hear the cries of his parents, his brothers and sisters when they learn he’s dead. I feel their hatred for me. You love a child murderer.”

  At this point he abruptly stopped. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes. He struggled desperately to maintain control, but overcome with anguish, he broke down crying. He turned away from the Taylors and wept for a short time, a poignant episode that exposed the mental torment beleaguering him.

  Kristen, weeping empathetically, ventured to hug him, but he said, “No!”

  Warily, she reached out and grasped his hand. She put her other hand on his face and gently turned his head to face her. “I have no doubt that what you did was necessary or you wouldn’t have done it. You helped save millions of lives. Do you see their joyful eyes? Do you hear their laughter? Do you feel their deep gratitude? Do you know how many parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, and children are not grieving because of you? You are a hero. The word is overused, but it genuinely describes you.”

  At this emotional time, Robert felt more like a coward than a hero. He brooded over his cowardice during the early part of the mission, he dwelt on the sheer terror he felt in the line of fire, he wondered whether he should have stayed by Hendrix’s side until the call was completed, and he chastised himself for leaving Fernandez’s side in his botched attempt to deal with the rocket, all of which led to a profound reproach of conscience for surviving when the others had died.

  When he replied to Kristen, with a solemn expression, “The heroes are dead,” he meant it.

  “Not all of them … Please give me some hope for us.”

  “If you had accepted my marriage proposal, none of this would have happened. Now it’s much too late.”

  She lowered her head and said ruefully, “You asked right after you shattered my heart, and I knew you didn’t want to get married. If I had accepted, you would’ve wound up resenting me. Still, I’ve regretted my answer ever since. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

  “Yeah, mine, too,” he said resentfully. Her sad eyes communicated her remorse. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

  “Yes, there is! Just give me another chance.”

  “Stop!” he commanded. She took an involuntary breath and kept quiet. Bill moved toward the two to intervene if necessary. “Enough of this, Taylor,” Robert went on, “I don’t want to be mean to you, but I’m not interested in a relationship with you any longer.”

  She hung her head, her wretched countenance the picture of utter despair. Though mere inches apart, it seemed nothing could bridge the chasm between them. Robert left, and Bill went to hug his disconsolate daughter.

  After a minute of melancholy silence, she speculated, “He’s going after Dominic, Dad.”

  “That’s my guess, too.”

  “We have to stop him. We should go to Dominic’s place right away.”

  They drove there, parked a few hundred yards away, walked up to the estate and hid in a clump of hemlock trees near the front gate. About ten minutes later, Robert got out of a cab. Here to redeem his vow to repay Dominic, he stood in front of the camera at the front gate. Father and daughter looked at each other as if to say, “I knew it.”

  “I’m afraid he’ll get hurt,” Kristen whispered.

  “I think we should be more afraid he’ll hurt or even kill them.”

  “We should stop any fight before it begins.”

  “Ordinarily, I’d agree, but he’ll just come back. This has to come to a head. I’ll step in if it looks like life or limb might be at stake.”

  Seventeen minutes later, a limousine pulled up to the gate. Dominic, two bodyguards, and his driver were in the car. Robert stood in the way. The four got out to confront the man.

  Dominic, cockier than ever, opened with, “Well, well, well. Look who’s back: soldier boy. You’ve come back to get me, eh?” he said laughing. “I beat the shit out of you before, and I can do it again. But in case you learned something in the Army, I have some friends to help.” Robert maintained an impassive expression. “You know, genius, you were, uh, real easy to defeat. Just hire a whore to end things between you and Kristen, stick a couple of things in your pocket, and fool, uh, Kristen into testifying against you, and boom! You’re in the American Army.” He guffawed again.

  Kristen gaped at her father when Dominic mentioned the hooker. Bill had judged it politic to withhold this news from his daughter. The entirety of Dominic’s successful scheme to depose Robert now patent, she was livid. Robert, as if he needed more provocation, was livider.

  “And do you want to hear something really hilarious?” Dominic continued, “When, uh, Kristen called to accept my proposal, the same woman who did you in was doing very naughty things to me. We had a good laugh over that one.” He roared with laughter. “By the way, you owe me ten grand for the whore.” He motioned, and the two bodyguards moved in to earn their keep. One had a truncheon. Bill took out his gun. Kristen looked at the size of the bodyguards and trembled.

  The first lesson Robert had learned in Delta Force combat techniques was there is no such thing as fighting fair. In close combat, you are fighting for your life. Do whatever you have to do, and use whatever you have at your disposal to defeat the enemy.

  Robert reached into his pockets for two fistfuls of dirt, which he launched at the bodyguards’ eyes when they got close enough. This incapacitated the one with the club, and threw off the other enough for Robert to get the first strikes in: a punishing punch to the face and kick to the ankle, which hobbled the assailant. Still on his feet, ready to fight, the bodyguard attempted a jab, which Robert avoided. Robert spat at him to throw him off more. As the man winced, Robert smashed him in the temple with his palm, staggering him. A kick to the side of his knee left him wobbly, his center line wide open to attack. Robert kicked him in the groin. Down he went to his knees. Robert elbowed him in the jaw, and down he went, unconscious.

  This took mere seconds, not time enough for the other bodyguard to recover his sight sufficiently to defend himself. He was nevertheless swinging his stick at Robert. Robert chopped him hard across his Adam’s apple, which left him unable to get enough air; he dropped his club. Three more hard hits to the face with his palm, and he went down. Robert grabbed the club and whacked him across the side of his head, knocking him out.

  He turned toward the nervous driver, a small man who would have bolted had it not been for some 22-caliber courage he carried with him. When he pulled out his gun, Kristen gasped, Bill dashed toward the two, and Robert flung the stick at the chauffeur. It hit him hard in the chest, which slowed him down enough for Robert to run up to him and grab the hand with the gun before the d
river could point it. Robert smashed his hand on the car hood, eliciting a scream from the man. The man dropped the gun. Robert grabbed the man’s hair and smashed his head on the car, knocking him out.

  The whole fight took only sixty-seven seconds. None of the three laid a hand on him.

  Dominic, in shock over Robert’s ruthless efficiency, stood frozen for a minute, then he turned to run. Robert picked up the gun and warned, “Take one more step, and I’ll drop you!”

  Dominic stopped and petitioned Bill: “Help!”

  Robert looked around at Bill, who was holding a gun, but not pointing it; he saw Kristen approaching. Bill told Robert to drop the gun. Robert threw the gun aside. Then he walked up to Dominic, seized him by the throat, and lifted him off the ground, the fence supporting his weight. Dominic couldn’t breathe.

  “Laugh now, ball-licking ass-rammer!” Robert challenged.

  Kristen urged, “Bobby, stop it! Let go of his neck. He can’t breathe.”

  “That’s the idea. Look at the fucker squirm. Feels awesome, doesn’t it?”

  “Let go of him,” insisted the inspector.

  “No!” screamed Robert. “He deserves to die! He can’t just get away with ruining my life. That fucking airline pilot got away with it. Not this time!”

  Striding to his side, Kristen pleaded, “Let him go. You’re not a murderer!”

  “Yes I am!”

  “This is not you! You’re a good man. Only the best could have done what you did. Don’t throw everything away for him. He’s not worth it. You’d spend the rest of your life in jail!”

  “The rest of my life … If I really did something so special, would they put me in jail for killing one measly crook?”

  “You know the answer to that question. You know murder is wrong. It would ruin your life; it would ruin your soul!” She grasped his elbow and entreated with passion, “Please let him go!”

  Deep within him, his conscience was telling him the same thing. In his mind, he saw his mother and sister crying, and his father shaking his head over what he was doing. There was also the police officer standing behind him with his gun drawn. He lowered his head, released his grip, and dropped the frightened man, who fell to the ground clutching his throat and gasping for air. Bill put his gun away and came up to Robert to put on handcuffs. He didn’t resist. Bill checked on the three prone men.