Headhunters (3 page)

We were a civilian subcontractor for domestic intelligence
operations. We were our own anti-terrorist cell. Kendrick ran the operations. I
recruited the talent. We didn’t require congressional oversight. We did what
needed to be done.

I recruited underground software developers, hackers,
crackers, anyone who could exploit the weaknesses in databases for banks and
foreign powers. We captured phone conversations, broke into confidential
records, e-mail accounts, whatever it took to track threats to national
security. We re-tasked government satellites at will. Our chain of command was
short. The red tape nearly non-existent.

And in each of our files, we held presidential pardons in
the event we were ever caught.

“You were a little rough on our boys today, buddy,” Kendrick
drawled. He still talked like a southern college football coach.

“I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I’m deeply sorry about that, Simon.”

“I know.”

“I’ve prayed for you and your family.”

I smiled. God and I weren’t on speaking terms.

“I think we need to talk about something,” I said.

“Alright, then.”

Kendrick settled beside me on the bench and we sat for a
moment looking over the pond before us. I wondered for a second if anyone was
watching or if he’d come alone. I scanned the tree line and then realized that
if anyone were there, I wouldn’t see them until it was too late. I turned and
faced Kendrick.

“I’m done. I’m out.”

Kendrick looked at me, a bit taken aback.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m resigning from Blackthorn.”

Kendrick listened to me and I could see him processing every
word, everything I’d said and everything I hadn’t. Then I saw him look across
at the tree line and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I had a
moment earlier.

“I just don’t have it in me anymore, Randall. I can’t.”

“Blackthorn is not a country club. We’re not a bureaucracy
that you retire from. We protect this country,” Kendrick said. I’d heard these
words before, but they still rang true. We’d been doing the right thing. The
right thing for the country. The right thing for us. But not the right thing
for my family.

“I need to honor my wife’s memory the same way that you do,”
I said quietly.

Kendrick’s head rocked back as if I’d just slapped him and I
wondered if my words had been too harsh. We rarely spoke of Rose now. We just
did our job. And we spoke of the necessary sacrifices we needed to make to keep
this country safe. Kendrick’s eyes came back and settled on me.

“Is your decision final? No way I can talk you out of it?”
he asked.

“I’m afraid not, my friend. My kids need me.”

Kendrick nodded.

“What will you do?” he asked.

“Find a new town. A new job. Away from here, all of this.”

He nodded again.

“Headhunters never die, Simon. They just find different
heads to hunt.”

He looked at me and his creased face broke into a smile. He
extended a weathered hand.

“Good luck to you, son.”

I smiled and shook it.

***

I let myself into the house. I hung
up the keys and kicked off my shoes. I padded through the house to the kids’
rooms. David was snoring away, his blanket twisted around his body. I
straightened him out and covered him up. Mel was sleeping quietly, her
breathing just a soft purr. My sweet girl.

I crossed the hall to the bathroom. I stepped inside,
flicked on the light and closed the door behind me, locking it. I reached into
the pocket of my coat and pulled out the Glock pistol. My hand shook as I held
it. What the hell was I doing? What had I planned to do with this damn thing?
Shoot my oldest and best friend?

“Simon?” I heard Alaina’s voice through the bathroom door.
It jarred me, making me flinch at the sound of her voice.

“Just a second. I’ll be right out.”

“I’m going to pop some popcorn. Do you want some?” Her voice
was light and non-stressed. She had no idea what I was doing. I swallowed hard
and answered.

“Sure. That’d be great. I’ll be right out.”

“Okay!” she replied and a second later I heard the microwave
start.

I turned back to the mirror and stared at my reflection.
Yes, in truth, I was prepared to kill Kendrick if that’s what it took to
protect my family. He was my friend and I trusted him implicitly, but Kendrick
believed in national security above all else. If I wasn’t part of the solution…
I didn’t know what that made me to him.

I ejected the magazine out of the Glock and the dull black
magazine that held the brass shells slid out smoothly. I dropped the mag in my
coat pocket and then racked the slide, so that the shell in the chamber was
ejected into my hand. I locked the slide open and dropped the bullet and the
empty handgun into my coat pockets.

I was going to kill my best friend, I stared at my
reflection in the mirror and tried to discern what was going on behind my own
eyes. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell had I become? Then I turned and
vomited in the toilet.

Chapter Three

I’m not proud of the way that I
handled Claire’s death. In retrospect, like anything else, I saw my mistakes. I
saw them coming like an 18-wheeler barreling down the road at me, getting
bigger, looming larger, the sound of the warning horn screaming in my ears. I
saw my mistakes coming, but that doesn’t mean that I did a damn thing to get
out of the way.

A week after the funeral, I slipped out of the house one
night and went for a drive in my car. I’d bought a Volvo S80. It was a big
beast of a car. Safe. I took it out along some winding roads, not really
knowing where I was going at first and yet managing to end up exactly where I
knew I would at the same time. I pulled to a stop outside the cemetery, parked the
car and began walking.

I’d only been to Claire’s grave once before, but I found it
with very little trouble. One of the mixed blessings of having a near
photographic memory, you can never forget some things. No matter how hard you
try. I’d been walking for five minutes when I stopped for a moment and looked
about me. I stood in a field of gravestones, alone, under the darkness of
night. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the bottle of scotch still
in the paper bag from the liquor store. I crumpled the bag and shoved it back
into my pocket. I twisted the top off the scotch and took a deep pull on it,
the liquid burning my throat, like fire through my chest, making my eyes water.
I screwed the top back on and kept walking.

I found Claire’s headstone. I brushed the leaves off of it.
I adjusted the flowers we’d left earlier in the week. I sat down and leaned
against her headstone and took the bottle from my pocket and began to drink.
Part of me knew that she wouldn’t want me to take things like this. Part of me
wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly, I saw a blinding light in front of me. It was
fixed on me, not wavering, locking me in its path. I raised a hand to block the
glare and saw someone walking toward me.

“Who is it?” I called. My voice wavered more than I’d have
liked and it was lost among the tombstones. The figure kept coming, coming
closer. Visions flashed in my mind of a hundred late night horror movies of
idiots like me who’d wandered into cemeteries only to be torn apart by some
Hollywood ghoul. When the bony hand reached for me, I still screamed.

I raised my arms to defend myself. The liquor had taken away
my ability to stand quickly, maybe to even stand at all. The hand reached down,
seized the bottle from me and pulled it away roughly.  The hand withdrew and I
could see the outline of the figure, tall and gaunt, a long coat hanging from
his frame. He up-ended the bottle and let the scotch pour out on the ground. I
tried to say something in protest, but the words caught in my throat.

“Simon, don’t do this to yourself, son.”

Randall. It was Randall Kendrick.

Somehow, dealing with flesh-eating zombies seemed easier
than dealing Kendrick right then. Exhaustion flooded my body and I slumped back
and began to cry unashamed.

“I miss her.”

“Of course you do.”

“It was my fault.”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

The one thing about Kendrick I always liked was that he told
you the truth. Sometimes it was his version of the truth, but he always laid it
out there.

“The thing of it is, son,” Kendrick continued, “Claire is gone.
But you have those kids to think of now. They need their daddy. For better or
worse, you’re it.”

I sighed and looked up. Kendrick was squatting in front of
me, his long bony legs bent so far out it nearly brought him down to my level.

“You’ve got to do right by those kids.”

“Where am I going to go? How am I going to do this?” I knew
he was right. I knew he was right before I’d ever left home that night.

Kendrick reached into his pocket and handed me a business
card. I took it and stared at it, but couldn’t make my eyes work in the light.

“Max Donovan,” Kendrick offered. “He runs a headhunter firm
out of Chicago. He’s outside of Blackthorn. I met him a few years ago. We keep
in touch. He’s expecting your call.”

Chicago. Somehow that sounded right. Somewhere new. Away
from the same old streets, the house, the memories. This was hope in a way. I’d
been stuck in a rut. Bound for self-destruction without ever setting out to do
it. I needed something fresh. I tried to say something, managed a nod.

“Th-thank you, Randall…”

“Come on, son. Let’s get you home.”

In my fog, I’d only started to put together that Randall had
not come alone. Two agents stood behind him. I staggered forward, leaning on
Kendrick for support. As we passed the agents, I caught a glimpse of them in
the flashlight glow. They were the same two that had followed me that day after
the funeral. I cursed to myself and hung my head low. It wasn’t an act. I was
beaten. Done. I was no threat to them or to anyone. I only wanted to protect my
kids. To get out of this life. To find something new. I had been so certain in
that moment that I was free.

Randall led me back to my car and helped me into the seat. I
handed him the keys and he drove. My head lolled back, then over to rest on the
cool window. I opened my eyes and could see in the side mirror that the agents’
car was following behind us. He drove me back to my doorstep and helped me get
in the house.

“Good night, Simon,” he said and then was gone. I kicked off
my shoes at the door, not realizing then they were covered in mud. I walked
through the house and sloughed off my coat in the hallway, just letting it fall
in a pile. I continued on to my bedroom, closed the door and collapsed into
bed. I fell hard into a dreamless sleep and didn’t wake until after 10 a.m. the
next morning.

***

I joined the kids for breakfast.
Alaina had been keeping them busy, playing outside. I made a pot of coffee and
watched them through the window. They would swing and chase each other and
every so often, converge on Alaina to hug her. I checked the wall clock and
realized that it was a little after 9 a.m. in Chicago.

It took me a moment to find my coat, but Alaina had hung it
up. I’d have to thank her later. I dug the business card out of my coat
pocket.  It was thick and tastefully done with a thin gold line along the border.
I read the inscription:

Max
Donovan

Donovan
& Associates

Below the name was a phone number. I
grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed. A moment later, a voice came on.

“Donovan & Associates.” It was a woman, young but
businesslike.

“Good morning. This is Simon Parks…” I began.

“Yes, Mr. Parks. Mr. Donovan is expecting your call. I’ll
put you right through.” Classical music came on the line while I was put on
hold. I looked down at myself and closed my bathrobe. I rubbed the stubble on
my chin and hoped that I was ready for this.

“Simon Parks, how are you?” the voice on the other end of
the line was a booming baritone, as if I was a prodigal son returning home.

“Good,” I lied. “How are you?”

“Fantastic! Randall told me all about you,” he said. Then
his voice softened, “I’m truly sorry about your wife. Sorry for your loss.”

It always made it worse when people felt the need to tell
you they were sad for you. I understood the human condition. I knew that people
often are compassionate toward one another. I just hated hearing their
sympathies. More so, I hated myself for rejecting the kindness they were
extending.

“Thank you, sir,” I managed.

“So, I hear you’re looking to make a change?” The question
wasn’t flippant. It was intended to be a door of opportunity being opened. I
should know. I’d been the one on the other side of the recruiting call many
times.

“I am. Seems to be the right thing to do. For the kids,” I
added. Liar. It was for the kids, but it was for me as well. I saw Claire’s
face everywhere I went. In every corner of the house, her touch was there.

“Simon, Randall and I talked a bit about you. He took the
liberty of forwarding your information to my office. Now, obviously, I’m
keeping that in the strictest confidence. I trust that that’s okay with you?”

Once I’d broken ties with Randall Kendrick, he seemed eager
to push me out the door. That was fine with me. He’d cared enough to check on
me the night before and to refer me to Donovan. I couldn’t fault him for it.

“Of course.”

“Good, good,” replied Donovan. “Based on your background, it
looks like you’d make a fantastic addition to our team here. I’d like the
opportunity to discuss that with you.”

I wasn’t so sure that I wanted to come along that easily.

“Mr. Donovan, I really—“

“Please, call me ‘Max’.”

“Max… there would be a significant cost to relocate my
family and then the cost of living factor. I’m just not sure—”

Donovan quoted a significant salary, more than what I was
making at Blackthorn, plus bonuses and a generous relocation package.

“You come highly recommended,” he told me. “I’m not being
presumptuous when I say that. I truly think you’d be a great asset to our
group. I’d like to fly you out for lunch. Let’s get together, shake hands like
a couple of men and see if this would be a good match.”

To be honest, I was hesitant. I could have easily taken a
year off to clear my head. But part of me told me that wasn’t going to get the
job done. I looked out the window and saw David and Melissa running, playing,
hugging Alaina again. And just then Alaina looked back at me and smiled,
shaking her head and waved. I waved back, smiling too.

“I’ll come if I can bring my family, Max. I can’t leave
them. Not right now.”

“Totally understand, my friend,” his voice boomed. Max had a
way of making you feel as if you’d been his hunting buddy forever. “I’ll have
my assistant call you to set up the details.”

I thanked him and rang off. The kids were coming in from
outside.

“Hey guys! Did you have fun?” I asked.

“Yeah, we went on the slide and down the swing—” they both
started in unison, David and Mel and then each told about their own adventures
in the great backyard as if they’d just explored a forgotten rainforest. I
couldn’t help but smile. I hugged them to me. I looked up and Alaina was
standing in the doorway smiling.

“Sleep okay?” she asked. I knew she knew.

“Sorry,” I grimaced.

She waved it off and smiled. She went to the cabinet and
looked inside.

“Who wants hot chocolate?” she asked.

“Me! Me! Me!” they chorused.

“Okay, guys! Go take off your boots—“

“And wash your hands,” Alaina added.

“And wash your hands,” I continued. They disappeared out of
the kitchen to take care of their appointed tasks. “I knew that part.”

Alaina smiled, “Of course you did.”

“Alaina,” I said, and she looked up at me. “I’m sorry that
I’ve been… difficult lately. Distracted.”

“Oh…” she scoffed.

“No, seriously,” I replied. “It’s not fair to you. It’s not
fair to the kids… it’s not right for me…”

Alaina was looking at me then, her eyes big and brown and
taking in every word I said.

“It won’t happen again,” I said.

She smiled, put her hand on my arm. “Good.”

She grabbed the mugs of hot chocolate and placed them on the
table.

“Who wants marshmallows?” she called. In a flash the kids
returned. David had washed his hands, but had somehow managed to get dirt on
his forehead. Mel was clean and ready, but her hair looked to be in an
impossible tangle from the wind outside. It occurred to me then, just how
little time I’d spent with my kids, watching them, raising them, enjoying them.

“Ok, kiddos,” I said. “How’d you like to go with me on a
little trip?”

Cheers all around. Alaina raised her eyebrows and smiled
expectantly.

“There’s a man in Chicago who’d like to talk to me about a
job. And he’s agreed to fly us all out there and spend the night in a hotel.
What do you think?”

Cheers from the kids, followed by a million questions, then
the suggestions that they pack, followed by an argument over whether or not
they could bring toys.

“All of us?” Alaina asked. I nodded.

“I’d like you come. Please. It would mean a lot.”

“Well. I don’t know… you know, I’ve got this thing…” Alaina
looked like she was agonizing over something. “OK, no, I’m kidding! I’d love to
go!”

***

The flight from Virginia to Chicago
was an easy one. The kids were old enough to fly now and carry their own bags
so that made everything easier. Alaina alternated between her iPod and coloring
with the kids. In the meantime, I worried about everything. I hadn’t
interviewed in years. Everything that I looked forward to, the new town, the
new job felt like it was working against me. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t
know the company as well as I wanted to. I’d researched them but there wasn’t a
lot of information to be gained.

We checked into the hotel rooms. Alaina had an adjoining
room to ours, which I thought was best. They had decided to hit the pool right
away. That would have made me nervous, except Alaina was a fully qualified
lifeguard and certified in CPR. Claire had required it when she had interviewed
for the nanny position.

The kids changed quickly in that way that kids do. Clothes
flying off and being tossed, like an explosion of children’s apparel. I was
dressed for the interview in a conservative grey suit. I adjusted my tie in the
mirror and checked my watch. Almost time to go. I’d hit the restroom and be on
my way.

I reached for the bathroom door, but it opened before I
could touch it. Alaina had changed into her swimsuit in my bathroom. It was a
yellow one-piece bathing suit and she was wrapping the towel around her waist.
I’d never seen her dress that way before. Claire had told me about Alaina
taking the kids swimming, but I’d never been home for it. Alaina flipped her
curly hair back and saw me standing there.