by Sarah Cole
******
My car starts, and I take a deep breath looking up at Carter’s building. He was sleeping peacefully and I slipped out. It was without a doubt the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but also the easiest because I know he’ll be safe. That’s all I want for him. He’ll be angry when he wakes to my note and an empty bed, but I can’t see any way around it. I’m not sure what he’d do if he knew we were both fighting the same war from opposite ends, but I want to win it for him.
I make the drive home and run through my plan repeatedly, making a mental checklist of all the things I’ve already set in place, and all the things I need to do. I mindlessly run through the motions as I shower and ready myself. My mind is unsettled as I pull on some leather pants and a black tank top. I pull my hair in a loose knot on top of my head and make my way up to my office. I unlock my desktop and begin running the program that will wipe my hard drive of any and all Lintech information, and grab everything I’ll need including the external drive for the meeting.
Realizing I’ve spent too much time already, I rush back down the stairs and grab the weapons I’ve already selected. I shove the knives into my boots, and strap myself up underneath my loose tank with the smallest gun I own. I know it’s a long shot to carry, but I’d be stupid if I didn’t at least try. I grab the small bag I have packed and take one last look around. There isn’t anything I need here. There aren’t any memories, or any keepsakes. This house holds nothing but things and was only a silent place to let my rage fester. I’d watch it burn in an instant, but that seems a bit melodramatic, even for me.
Giving everything one last look, I close the door behind me and climb on my Ducati, starting her up. The sun warms my face, and morbidly I wonder if this will be the last time that I feel that warmth. I drive around the city aimlessly. I don’t know if I’m stalling, or if I’m just not ready to say goodbye to this life I know yet. Because no matter what happens today, nothing will be the same. After a while I find myself staring up at the dual towers of St. James Cathedral. It’s been years since I’ve stood on these steps, but the quiet serenity that emanates from within those stone walls calls to me, beckoning me up the steps.
My boots echo loudly on the black and white tiled floor as if to announce to God himself that a sinner is in his house. The cool air and the stale smell of incense and candle smoke ignites memory after memory of masses sandwiched between my mother and father as I squirmed impatiently on the wooden benches, reciting scripture and learning lessons of sin and repentance. My, how far I’ve fallen since then. I don’t recognize myself, or the woman I’ve become, and I wish I could say that I regretted a moment, but I don’t.
The room is dim, only the altar aglow, and I run my hand along the wood bench worn from over a century of sinners and believers worshipping upon it. I hear the swoosh of robes and footsteps behind me, but I don’t turn.
“Can I help you, my child?” a warm voice asks, and finally I turn to meet an elderly priest. His face is weathered with age and the troubles of others.
“I haven’t been in years, and I just felt I should get reacquainted.” My voice sounds rough, and his eyes light with understanding.
“Confessions don’t begin until four, but I’d be happy to hear yours now if you’d like.” He seems genuine, but I can’t confess because I’m not done sinning, and I’m definitely not ready to repent.
“May I just sit for a while?”
“Of course, my dear. Take all the time you need. I’ll be in my office just through there if you change your mind. Come back any time.” he pats my shoulder gently and leaves me alone with the click of a heavy door, echoing off the stone walls.
I’m not certain why I’m here, but something about it feels right. I’m seeking a release- the kind I typically don’t seek, but every part of me is aching and this is the only thing I haven’t tried to stop it. I look up at the ceiling as if I’m waiting for a sign from the heavens above that I’m not welcome here, but it never comes.
“Heavenly Father…” the words feel foreign in my mouth as I fall to my knees at the altar and stare at the gilded cross on the wall. I’m not so sure I even know how to pray anymore, and does God even listen to the words that leave the Devil’s lips? I don’t care what Carter says, I know I’m destined for eternal damnation.
“You will never succeed in life if you try to hide your sins. Confess them and give them up; then God will show mercy to you. (Proverbs 28:13)” I whisper, remembering the scripture my mother used to recite with me, and my eyes well with tears.
“I don’t want your mercy, and I don’t have any right to be here. I don’t worship – I haven’t in so many years I’ve lost count… I don’t seek forgiveness and I don’t deserve it. I just need something to hold onto because my life-” I stop, unable to continue around the ball of emotion that seems to be lodged in my throat.
“I’m spinning out of control.” I wipe the tears from my face. “I have sinned, and I have sinned often- so much so, that the lines are blurred between what is right and wrong, what is reality and what might just be some nightmare that I’m living. I’ve lied, I’ve cheated and murdered… and I enjoyed every second.
I craved it and bathed in the blood of those from whom I’ve sought vengeance, but no matter what I did to fill myself up, I’m still empty. I felt myself bleed out along with everyone I hurt along the way. The worst part is… I’m not finished and I’m not sure I’ll ever be. Once I end this, what’s stopping me from doing this again and again? When does enough become enough? I tried to fill my wounds with new pain just to feel something- anything…” I cry into my hands as my chest splits in two. I’m babbling nonsense, but it feels good to give my hurt away instead of feed on it like I usually do.
“This whole time I’ve refused to open my eyes and see the one thing that made me feel whole. Love. I found it- I found Carter and I pushed him away so many times, and now it’s too late. We can’t ever be what he wants us to be because I can’t undo these things I’ve done. I can’t recover the loves and the life I lost. So, please…please tell me what I can do to make this go away. Tell me how I can feel whole again because I don’t think I can do it alone anymore…” My sobs reverberate in the room around me, the sound a confirmation of how broken my soul truly is.
“I don’t have any right to ask, and I can’t be sure you’re listening, but if you are, I only ask for one thing. Let Carter find peace. Let him find peace from his past, from the demons he lives with, and from the things I’ve done to his heart. Let him be truly happy, and find someone worthy of his love one day.” The thought of Carter with someone else makes my stomach turn, but it is what I want. His happiness and safety is the only thing I want that isn’t Lance Jennings buried six feet deep.
My sobs lessen and quiet as the silent tears fall. I continue to recite forgotten scriptures in my head. They’re the ones my mother used to recite with me before bed in hopes that they would someday help to shape me into a good person. After all the tears I have are cried, and I’ve said everything I need to say to God and myself, I stand with a new sense of calm. I feel lighter, but certainly not free. For now, with a new sense of determination for this to not all have been in vain, I step back out into the afternoon sunshine with only one purpose.
Kill Lance Jennings.
Chapter sixteen
CARTER:
I wake at half past one to an empty bed, and empty apartment. I can’t say that I’m surprised, but it doesn’t detract from the panic I feel knowing where she’s gone. I don’t know who these people are, and I wish I could say that I even knew my brother anymore, but I don’t. This isn’t the Braxton who was my best friend for my entire life before learning he was my brother…or maybe it is. It isn’t as if I’m the best judge of character.
I find my phone to call her, but a slip of paper sitting on the counter catches my attention.
Carter-
I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I wish I could promise you that I’ll be safe, but I c
an’t. I wish I could promise you that I’ll come back to you one day, but it is unlikely. I wish I could promise you a lifetime together, but it isn’t in the cards for us because of me and the choices I’ve made and the path I’ve chosen to follow. I walk in the dark and you need to be in the light.
I don’t want to leave you with all of the promises I can’t keep, so instead, I’ll give you all of the ones I can. I promise you that I will protect you and keep you safe. I promise you all of the success in the world, but you and I both know that is all because of your hard work. I promise that you are the only person that has seen my soul when other people only get the mask. I promise you, that the love and the genuine happiness you’ve given me are without a doubt the highlight of my life, and I promise to carry that with me forever. There isn’t a day that will go by that I will not wonder where you are and how this cruel life is treating you, but make me a promise.
Promise me that you will love and let someone love you. Let someone see your soul, because it is a good one, Carter Linwood, whether you believe it or not.
I will love you with every part of my soul until the world burns down around me, and I burn with it.
-Anika
“God damn you, Anika,” I say out loud, my voice cracking around my tears. I don’t care how many promises she breaks, or the promises she made intending to keep, she is not doing it alone because only one thing matters. Her. She is what matters to me and she doesn’t seem to understand that if she isn’t a part of my life, then it isn’t really worth living. She thinks she’s irredeemable, but she’s not. No one is. I understand murder is a sin regardless if the victim was deserving or not. I could turn the other cheek and save myself and my reputation, but her love is and always will be greater than anything else I possess. I was searching aimlessly without even knowing it- fucking and working my way through life until I found her. I don’t care how it happened, I only care that it did, and now I’ve got to find her.
I dress quickly, throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt and grab my keys, only pausing to grab my phone. Speeding to her house I run through all of the things I will say to her to convince her we can work, and we will figure it out together. Her BMW is parked in the driveway, and I climb the steps to her door, ringing the doorbell, but there’s no answer. I knock, but still no answer. I turn the knob, and the door opens much to my surprise.
“Ani? Baby?” I call out, but am met with nothing but the silence ringing in my ears. I search room by room, and the only signs of her are the smell of her perfume in the air and the damp towels in the bathroom from her shower. I climb the stairs to her office and flip on the light. Everything appears to be in order except for the now bare walls where her mother’s photographs used to hang and the empty spot on her desk where her family’s photo once sat.
Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach, I try to think rationally. I sit down at the computer and wiggle the mouse. Much to my surprise the desktop springs to life revealing folder after labeled folder. I click one after the other, devouring the contents inside. It’s like being able to look through a window and see into the parts of Anika that she keeps locked up tight. The things that I’m learning about her from these files, and the things I’m learning she’s capable of should scare me…and they do, but not for me. I’m terrified for her, and the guilt that weighs on her from this hate she harbors and can’t seem to let go of.
I’m about ready to shift my focus to the filing cabinet at my right, when I see a lone folder in the bottom righthand corner of the screen.
Vladislav Statnik.
That is the only label given to this innocuous little file, except for when I double click and open it up, I learn that it is anything but harmless. The first thumbnail photograph inside the folder, is the face of the man that still torments my nightmares and fuels my desire for control. The sole reason I can’t watch the news or partake in conversations on politics without breaking out in an icy sweat. Lance Jennings.
My blood runs cold in my veins, freezing time for only a moment to allow everything to click into place as my eyes scan the file names and the sub folders underneath. Suddenly, all of the times I’ve caught glimpses of the darkness inside Anika make complete sense to me and I find myself consumed with her same unquenchable thirst for vengeance. For myself, for her, her parents and for all of the other people that have been crushed under the unrelenting fist of Lance Jennings.
I click on the first document and it is logs and shipping transactions under the name Vladislav Statnik. I can’t stop searching and with each click, the truth comes more in focus. This man is worse than I could have ever imagined, and he is behind everything, and she already knew my connection based on the bank transaction I’m looking at. That is why she was trying to keep me away from it. My heart could swell and burst with love for this woman, but she thinks she’s invincible. She’s going on a suicide mission, and the worst part is, somehow, I think she already knows that.
I have to know everything, but at the same time, I also know that the clock is ticking down, and I need to find her – to help her, to join her on her quest for revenge. The next file I click on, I wish I wouldn’t have. It is the crime scene from the night her mother was murdered. I have to close it immediately as my stomach turns with sickness. When she told me, I thought it was horrific, but seeing it, understanding it, makes me wonder how she’s still standing. I scan through the papers on her desk, and find nothing but junk that cannot help me.
I pull out my phone, calling the only person who can help at this point.
“Agent Booth,” Marcus answers on the third ring.
“Marcus, its Carter. I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
“Anika’s house. I need to find her, and she needs our help.”
“Give me ten minutes. I have the address,” he says, cutting the call.
I go downstairs and wait. It only takes Marcus a few minutes until he’s pulling up. He and another older man get out of the car, and scale the steps to the front door.
“Carter,” Marcus greets. “This is the man in charge of the operation. I know you may not have wanted company, but if you have information we need to hear it and fast. Things are going down today, but we don’t know what.” The older man reaches out to shake my hand, introducing himself as Henry Lawrence, senior agent.
“Follow me,” I say climbing the stairs. Anika may never forgive me for telling them everything, but I know Marcus and I know he’ll find a way to help.
“Anika did hack Lintech, but only because she was blackmailed. She didn’t actually steal information. Instead she rebuilt my data into something less powerful and put the plans on a hard drive. She embedded a virus inside. When accessed, the virus will eat away at the files on the user’s computer while simultaneously pinging government agencies with the information and locations. She’s coded it to feed you guys information. She’s making the drop today. The only problem is who it’s for and I have no idea where to find her.”
I show them the files on her computer and they exchange a grim look.
“You guys already knew,” I confirm.
“We speculated who was behind it, but we didn’t have all the proof. We knew the drop was happening, but we don’t know the location. That’s what we’re working on. If we can catch him there, then it should be enough,” Henry says, and I shake my head.
“I have everything you need except for the location, but I think you may be able to get that. Track Anika’s phone. I don’t know how, but I know you can,” I say and Marcus makes a phone call stepping out of the room as Henry sits down at the desk.
“They’re working on tracing her now,” Marcus says, stepping back into the room.
“Holy shit,” Henry says slowly as he clicks through file after file. “It’s all here. How did she get all of this? Our best guys couldn’t even find this information,” he marvels.
“I suppose she knew exactly where to start looking. Click on the folder that says Papa,” I say
, and he clicks as Marcus looks over his shoulder at the screen. Marcus glances back to meet eyes with me in disbelief.
“She’s had the lost files this whole time, working off of them,” he says, and I nod slowly. When I hear the muffled curse, I know they came to the files at the end. The ones that hold the crime scenes and the victim’s Anika herself has taken.
“She did this? But how? I’ve seen her…” Marcus asks.
“Don’t underestimate Anika Borkova,” is all I can say in response.
“None of our teams were able to get enough information, let alone come close… to proving anything, to being capable enough to… Jesus Christ,” he curses when he gets to the file of Yury Volkov. I know because I felt the same way, trying to picture how the same woman I spent the night with was capable of this just minutes before I met up with her. Yet, somehow, I understand after seeing everything else.
“She’s dangerous,” Henry says, and I don’t even try to disagree.
“She is, but she isn’t a psychopath. She only had one goal and it was to take this group of men down. I’d do the same thing,” I defend, and I know I could tell them what this very same group of men did to me, but it wouldn’t matter right now. It doesn’t change the past, and it won’t change Lance Jennings’ fate at this point.
“But still, the things she’s capable of… she can’t be walking free., Henry argues.
“She isn’t a bad person! She made the wrong choices, but for all of the right reasons. You can’t tell me that there wouldn’t have been a shoot to kill order on these men if you had known where they were, and all of these vile things they did!” I gesture to the computer where Henry is still devouring the files. “She’s brilliant, and kind, and…” I trail off on a defeated sigh.
