Death of Innocence
Day 14
Coffee shop, 1½ miles from the Homeless Encampment, same day
Reese sat in the back of the shop. He could keep an eye on anyone entering and leaving from there. An emergency exit, complete with an alarm that sounded if used, just behind him. Always best to pay attention to your surroundings.
The lunch crowd was starting to thin, and his waitress had a little more time for him now. Breakfast had gone down easy. Hardest part? – lowering himself down into the chair. Better than climbing in and out of a booth, though.
Nagging pain on his right side, and he'd been bleeding a little there – probably from lowering himself down through that window into the cellar and all his weight scraping over that spot. Started it bleeding again and he hadn't thought to stop for any medical supplies. Paper towels'd have to do, for now.
Pushing off with the broken rib hadn't been fun, either – but at least the chest wound hadn't dragged over the window frame. No blood from it. Just pain from the broken rib underneath.
Jeez. He was a mess.
Tina, his waitress, was back. Dark hair, dark eyes, slim and quick on her feet. For a second, when he'd first seen her in profile, he'd choked. Way too much like Kara, and his heart had started to race – until she'd turned, and he'd seen her, full-faced. Then, no, just an innocent face. Not her.
Why so spooked, he wondered.
Kara was dead – back in Ordos. That rocket attack to cover the massacre there. Civilians, kids mostly. All dead in the yard, except for one. Kara had found him. She spoke Mandarin. That's why they'd been sent, rather than someone else, they said. Language skills appropriate for the region, and the need for speed, they'd said.
No one else with the right profile to send on such short notice, they'd said.
So, the two of them had gone from waterboarding, 'water-inhaling', some slimeball back in Morocco, to an H5N1 contagion zone in China. That's how their government had gotten away with it. Let it get out there'd been an outbreak. And that had emptied the city.
Ordos – ghost city, even before the rumors. Had never really caught on, way up there. Spent billions to build it, but no one moved in. A few hundred-thousand at the peak, before the 'outbreak'.
And once they were gone, in came the kids. Software engineers, mostly.
Perfect place to work on the laptop, they'd said. It all looked legit to the two of them. Landed with orders: Get the laptop, Wait for the extraction team. Signal their location and leave. Looked legit.
Even the bodies made sense. Dozens of them, massacred. The laptop had to be worth something then, right? Who would've done such a thing if it weren't?
Reese heard her speaking Mandarin to the kid – soft, like she'd cared. Imagined her words to him, lying there: "Don't worry. We're here to help. Just hold on." And then: "What's happened here?"
The gunshot made him flinch. Wasn't expecting that. Kara.
"So, what did he say?" Reese watched her glance at him, then turn away.
Over her shoulder, dismissive: "Just wanted something for pain."
Hmm. Mercy was never her strong suit. Kara was hiding something. What?
It should've sent up flares up for him, by then. But, no. She was his partner, after all. Had each other's backs, right?
No. She'd just followed orders in the end.
He couldn't.
Raised his gun. Could've hit her in the back right there. She'd thrown the light sticks out, to call the Team. Could hear the engines coming in the distance. Mark's words: come back alone, he'd said. Get the laptop, but come back alone. Lowered in gun.
Wouldn't do it. This was wrong.
Maybe she'd thought he meant enough: her first shot hadn't been a kill shot – only meant to wound him and give her some time to explain:
"Nothing personal," she'd said. "Just following orders, from Snow."
Raised her gun for number two. He'd told her then. They'd been marked. Didn't she see? That ride coming in? Not to get them out; but to end them.
Last he'd ever seen of her, listening to the engine coming her way. He'd already gone – and no one could've survived that blast.
"More coffee, sir?"
Nodded. Checked her face again – just to be sure. Not her. But still, why the uneasy feeling?
Raised his cup for her to pour. Noticed his hand. A tremor – making it shake.
Her eyes slid to his, a question there.
"You okay, Mister?"
Far from it.
"Fine," he lied. She didn't look convinced.
"I saw you walk in, Mister. Before. Want me to call you a cab?"
"I'm good. Really. Just a little wiped – from the job, you know?"
Ah, made sense to her. Same thing happens to her.
"Anything else I can get you, then?"
"Just those sandwiches, to go; the soup; and a large coffee, black. And can you pour it into my thermos here?"
"Sure thing. Be right back." Her eyes flashed, and a smile brightened her face. Things'd be okay.
Reese left her a big tip and shuffled up to the front. Stopped near the door at the desk to pay. No wait there. No one in front of him. Heard the sound of the keys pressed and the soft little beeps they made under her fingertips.
Hmm.
His eyes lifted and scanned the whole lot out there, and beyond to the street, and then the trees nearby. Couldn't explain the feeling, or the hairs prickling on the back of his neck.
Raised his collar up. Pulled his hat lower.
One of the door hinges squeaked on the way out. And the breeze had carried the smell of the Bay all this way. Took the stairs gingerly, one at a time. Scanned again, and all the way to the Camp.
That feeling was still there. Like eyes on him.
Mile and a half back to Camp. Fresh set of clothes on his back, shaved, as clean as he could get at a sink. The smell of the soap had mostly gone. Fading, like her, in his thoughts.
She'd made it out after all. Maybe the only way out there was. At the end of a gun, or a rocket blast.
Just for following orders.
Reese hadn't planned to stay this late. Hadn't planned for the brutal night last night. Doing a little better now. Upright, at least, and walking a little more.
Joan had come in a little early. Said she'd been worried a bit and wanted to check on him.
Reese handed her a sandwich, a full one. And one for Ol' Sam, too. Shared the coffee around with the three of them. Toasts again, and smiles all around.
He'd be leaving soon, but something more he'd wanted to do. Limped over to Joan and held her by her arms. Startled her a bit. Questions in her face, then.
"Leavin', friend?" Somehow she knew.
Reese nodded.
"Gotta go now."
Her face fell a little. But living on the street made you expect things like this. Couldn't count on a lot of things staying the same. Every day's another day. Come what may.
Reese reached in to his coat. Something hidden in his hand so only she could see. Rolled up like a fat green cigar. One of the stacks of bills from his safe, with the slip of paper wrapped around the middle. Cash. More than she'd seen in a lifetime.
He took her hand. Opened it, gently. Placed the roll in the middle of her palm and drew her fingers over. Her eyes saw, and questioned. No sound. Just her kind, questioning eyes.
"For you," he said. "Saved my life. Twice." He turned her hand the other way, pressed his lips against the back.
They stood there for a moment.
Then Reese turned away.
Headed along the path for the main drag – half a mile away.
Light had started fading. Dusk soon.
Time to head out – on the road, again.
Didn't look back.