CL Hart -From A Distance (2 page)

Her steady gaze never faltered. "What's my other option?"

"Four years serving Uncle Sam." This little maneuver was going to cost him a couple of bottles of forty-year-old Scotch, but something told him the young woman in front of him was worth the effort he had made.

Kenzie sat impassively as her court appointed lawyer pleaded with the judge. "Your Honor, this is highly irregular. You can't force her-"

"Counselor, I would advise you to sit back and shut up. No one is forcing anyone to do anything. I'm simply giving her options. She's old enough to understand the law, and to know the consequences of breaking it. What I'm doing is offering her a choice. Turn her life around, or continue on the road she's currently on."

Judge Woodward stared at Kenzie. She gave no outward indication of where her mind was going but he had his own suspicions. "If you're thinking of going AWOL once you're in training, the two years at WCCW will be on the table until you have served your entire obligation to the military."

Kenzie, her arms still crossed over her chest, raised one eyebrow. "A few years playing soldier? Not a problem. Where do I sign?"

Forty-eight hours later, Katherine Mackenzie LeGault stepped off a bus at Fort Lewis and into the care of Sergeant "I eat recruits for breakfast" Carter. He knew who she was and why she was there, and he wanted to make damn certain she knew there was no "playing soldier" under his command.

Kenzie thrived in the military. It taught her discipline and responsibility, two things her life had been seriously lacking. She got three meals a day, a place to hang her hat, and a chance to make something more of her life. Academically it was challenging at first, since she had never applied herself at school. However, she was top of her class in all the physical training, even though she was smaller than most of her fellow recruits. Soon everyone knew her name, and the direction her military career was heading.

Halfway through Kenzie's training, two monumental things happened. First, her Grandmother Helen passed away, leaving her with no family and making her feel quite guilty for all of the trouble she had caused her. Second, she sent a letter of thanks to the man who had changed her life. A few weeks later, she was surprised to receive her first piece of civilian mail. The return address surprised her even more: Judge B. W. Woodward, Seattle, Washington.

The letters between them started out short, but soon their length grew, as did their friendship. Kenzie liked having someone in her life, and Judge Woodward liked the spirited fire he had seen beneath the young woman's anger. Since she excelled in all levels of her training, he was not surprised Kenzie graduated top of her class.

With no family left to invite to her graduation, she sent an invitation to Judge Woodward. She could not hide her smile when she saw him sitting in the second row.

The U.S. Army was where she belonged and somehow Judge Woodward had known that. He was there when she received her first promotion, clapping proudly, shoulder to shoulder with the others who were there to see their family members promoted. On her twenty-first birthday, the judge was there to watch her open an envelope that had come from the legal firm of Broughton, Greene, and Hanson. Unbeknownst to Kenzie, her grandmother had set up a trust fund for her. It was not a lot of money, but it was enough for Kenzie to purchase her first off-base residence - a twenty-eight-foot Catalina Mark II sailboat. No one knew about it but the judge. It was the first thing she'd really owned, and it was a home without roots, just like her. In honor of her grandmother, she named it
Helen's Gate.

The judge was there for Kenzie, cooking her dinner before she left to begin training at Fort Bragg. Soon after, her duties took her all over the globe, opening her eyes to many of the misfortunes that the rest of the world endured. Kenzie wrote the judge often, but she wrote less and less about what she was doing and where she was doing it.

The first time he saw her after she returned from Europe, Judge Woodward was surprised at the maturity in Kenzie's features. He saw her in a new light. The short-cropped dark hair he was accustomed to was starting to lengthen, showing off her natural wild curls. She had always been a beautiful, intelligent woman, but now there was a different side to her, an inner awareness of who she was and a new attentiveness that told him some of what she had seen. It was also the first time he saw how quickly she could change her outward appearance, slipping into another language, almost changing her personality. Judge Woodward knew then that the Army were grooming her to be something more than an average soldier. The next time he saw her, he was not surprised to see Kenzie sporting a new set of stripes on her uniform.

It was over a year before he saw her again. Her hair was a little longer, her demeanor a little quieter. He noticed more ribbons of action decorating her uniform, and her eyes bore the darkness of someone who had seen death - close up.

Only those in the highest ranks of the chain of command knew Kenzie had been training as a sniper, one of the few female snipers in the world. She loved it, even though it entailed long hours of lonely work. Friends had never been a part of her life, and she didn't miss what she'd never had. Girlfriends were a rarity and those there were, were discreet and disposable. It was the military after all - don't ask, don't tell.

But someone in her life did know, a young man from South Dakota, Corporal John Mifflin, the other half of her sniper team. Miff, as she called him, was her spotter and her first real friend besides the judge. Only a few years younger than her, Miffs job was to overlook the area, assess the wind speed, and clarify the distance to the target while she lined up the kill shot. His eyes were her eyes when she took aim through the scope. They were a great team, and with time had learned to work as an efficient unit; two people who worked together toward one goal - bringing down the enemy target. They took pride in what they did. It called for a special kind of person to crawl around in some of the worst conditions the world had to offer, to lie in wait for hours, sometimes days, for that one clear shot. Nerves of steel, attention to detail, and the patience of a saint were some of the primary attributes of a sniper.

In those long hours of waiting, hidden within the shadows, camouflaged from life, they spoke to each other in veiled whispers. Things she had never even said aloud to herself, she told to him. They shared their dreams and aspirations, and spoke of the women who had come in and out of their lives. Miff never judged her. She always knew he had her back and her trust.

In no time, LeGault and Mifflin were the top two names in their field. If the military wanted a target out of the picture, they were high on the list to get the job done. Until something went wrong during an assignment, very, very wrong. They were waiting in the mud in the driving rain in South America, watching for their target. They didn't move or speak, communicating only with hand signals. Without warning, two shots rang out under the canopy of the jungle, echoing deep into the night. Corporal J. Mifflin died instantly. A high caliber bullet hit him in the eye, splattering his brain matter all over his partner. Kenzie survived with a near miss, the bullet slamming into her shoulder, inches away from a kill shot. Badly wounded and devastated by her partner's death, Kenzie barely made it out of the jungle alive. Regrettably, all she could bring back for his family were his dog tags.

There was a cursory investigation, but so much of the incident was confidential the only answer the government gave was that Mifflin died in the line of duty. His family received a medal for his bravery and a crisply folded flag. Kenzie had a hard time after his death and took a leave of absence, during which she had many long phone conversations with the judge. However, due to the sensitive issue of security, she couldn't speak about what was really bothering her. He tried to console her, but survivor guilt was a hard thing to get over. Having served in Vietnam, he understood that.

When Kenzie was finally able to see Judge Woodward, he knew by the look in her eyes how painful it had been. He couldn't help her, but that didn't keep him from wanting to try. When her leave of absence was over, she returned to the only life she knew.

One afternoon she received a message to report to a Colonel Manuck off base, which was unusual. However, in the military, she had learned not to question, but to follow, orders. She had heard of him - a man of color, who wore his rank proudly on his uniform. She knew he was a man who required the utmost respect and that had nothing to do with his rank. He had a reputation of being a good soldier, a quiet man who let his actions do most of his talking. However, she also recalled some disturbing stories she'd heard about Colonel Manuck, rumors about covert operations and a very high mortality rate among the soldiers under his command. The mortality rate didn't scare her, and the thought of covert operations sounded like an intriguing challenge.

Kenzie found the address that she was looking for belonged to an old, rundown office building. She double checked the piece of paper in her hand and confirmed the location was indeed correct. She paused outside the door, took a breath, and straightened her uniform before she knocked. The door opened immediately and Kenzie entered the nearly empty room. She was surprised to see two men there.

"I'm looking for Colonel Manuck?" she said, looking at each man.

"I'm Manuck," the man with the large barrel chest said.

"Colonel." Kenzie started to salute.

Manuck waved off the pomp and circumstance. "Not needed. You know who I am?" the colonel asked as he offered her one of the three chairs in the room.

"Yes, sir," she said as she sat down on the cold metal chair. The other man wasn't introduced, but after a quick observation of his crisp dark suit and tie, athletic build, and military haircut, Kenzie guessed he was a Fed. He was a Kevin Costner look-alike, and she decided to call him Kevin, since no name was offered.

Kevin sat down, his eyes never leaving Kenzie's as Colonel Manuck quietly laid out the reason as to why she was there. Manuck did most of the talking. Now and then Kevin would supply a few details. At first, the colonel explained a military career change; however, as she listened longer, it became plain that it was more than just a career change. Many times over the following years, she would wonder what would have happened that day if she'd declined their offer.

FBI, CIA, SSA - the initials didn't matter to her. She would be performing the same function, but the proposition came with strings attached. She weighed the offer very carefully. More responsibility, less military operations, and it all came with a fat pay raise and a security clearance at the highest level. Kenzie was ready to jump at it until Kevin made one final statement. He cleared his throat dramatically and then informed her that any perceived benefits would come at a very high cost.

"Your life in the civilian world will come to an end."

"Meaning?" She looked to Manuck for clarification.

Manuck hesitated for a moment, weighing his words as he studied her face. "Any and all contact with persons not within the unit will cease."

"Your existence will be terminated - permanently," Kevin added coldly.

Kenzie glanced from one man to the other, not sure what to ask, but somehow she knew there would be nothing more forthcoming.

That afternoon Judge Woodward received a call from Kenzie, asking if she could meet him for dinner. It had been a while since he'd seen her, and when she walked through his door, he couldn't help but notice the concern creased into her brow. He was surprised when Kenzie brought up the subject of her financial estate. Money was not something she typically discussed. He listened carefully to her words and wishes, and though she had not mentioned anything specific, he suddenly had his suspicions. The mood became happy and light as they made and ate dinner together, and then enjoyed one of their highly competitive games of chess. When Kenzie pulled on her black leather jacket to leave, the dark foreboding feel from earlier in the evening returned. They hugged tightly to one another at the front door and again in the driveway. It was hard for her to leave, but she tried not to show emotion as she climbed onto her motorbike.

With a simple nod, she was gone and the elderly judge stood and watched as Kenzie rode out of sight. Somehow he knew this good-bye was different.

When Kenzie reported to Colonel Manuck the next morning, she handed him all her signed papers, her dog tags and identification. He gave her a new security clearance ID card - with no name and no picture, just a laser scan of her thumbprint. Just like that, Katherine Mackenzie LeGault ceased to exist.