Price of a Bounty

-Keira-

Dinner at Tony’s



After April left the park, Scott and I had some time to talk privately. I shot him a dark look.

“I’m sorry, Keira,” he began. “I should have told you, maybe not right away, but long before now. Just before your sixteenth birthday…that would have been a good time. Maybe I could have convinced you to join the military by telling you about the Resistance.”

“The two don’t exactly seem to go hand-in-hand.”

“That’s why it’s a perfect cover! Don’t you see? Nobody in the Gov expects military personnel to be working for the Resistance.”

“So, is everyone in the military initiated? Is that how you learned about it?”

“Initiated? No! Not all soldiers are part of it, but many are.”

“How did you get involved?”

“Through Rick,” he paused. “Keira, he can help you. Don’t give me that look! You don’t even have to be part of the Resistance if you don’t want to. Rick will help you no matter what. He cares about you. Please, just call him.”



***



Later that day, I returned to Tony’s for dinner. I found an empty booth and ordered the daily special. It was the best value, and other than an occasional beer, it was all Cole would allow his boarders to order on his tab.

While I waited for my food to arrive, I thought about what Scott had said. Could I have been wrong about Rick? Does he have feelings for me? Could he even love me? What does that even mean? I’d never known anyone besides Scott and April who meant anything to me before.

Rick was the opposite, I realized. He seemed to believe that most people were important, that life was important. Maybe that’s why he became a leader in the Resistance.

But Scott seemed to think that Rick cared for me specifically. Did he? Then why had he walked away? Could I ever be more important to him than the Resistance was? Could the Resistance become as important to me as it was to him?

Cole spotted me across the bar, sauntered over and sidled into the other seat. My food arrived, and he placed an order for himself. He studied me for a minute while I picked at my food.

“You’re thinking again. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. I’ve seen you dark and gloomy before, but this time it’s different.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“When you arrived, you told me this was temporary, until you could get back on your feet.”

“Yes. Do you want me to leave?”

“Want you to leave? Nah…but someone else has expressed an interest in boarding. You can both stay. It could be fun.” He winked.

“I’ll pass. I’ll take the sofa and try to be out in a day or two.”

“All right, but if you stay past the weekend, I’ll have to insist on another week’s rent, even if you’re not into that.”

I nodded. I’d be gone before then. “Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve never hurt me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t into that either.”

“I’m not, but what makes you different than the rest of the men around here?” I nodded my head toward the bar.

“Can you keep a secret?”

I rolled my eyes, more secrets!

“Image.”

“What?”

“It’s all about image. People around here, they know what you’re like. They tread carefully for fear of losing, appendages. Having you around helps my image, and I know that you’re more likely to come around if I don’t hurt you. It also keeps me in possession of all of my…appendages.” He smiled. “You get what you need, a safe place to stay, and I get what I need, image.”

“Oh.” I looked away. It was like I thought. People didn’t give without receiving something substantial in return, and apparently, Cole was receiving a lot more than just the rent.

“Well, it’s been…quiet, having you around this time. It was unexpected, but it’s been a nice change in my routine.” He sounded sincere. His food arrived, and we ate in comfortable silence.

I continued to think about the latest news. Scott said there had been an attack at the Ramsey estate. Had Rick ordered a hit? Had he meant to kill her? Even from the little I knew about him, it seemed unlikely. Now Eberhardt…bombs and guns were his style. Had he taken it upon himself to do what he knew his boss wouldn’t condone? But why? Especially after I’d accused him of lying to me. What would either of them gain? It was time to find out.

I smiled at Cole and stood, then walked over to a public transceiver in the back corner and entered Guy’s number. I turned on the vidscreen.

“Keira! How are you?” He sounded concerned.

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt about that. May I see you?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “Where?”

“Would you meet me for dinner at the Café de Rivoli tomorrow at 6:00?”

I smiled at his choice of restaurants. “I’ll be there.”





-Guy-

The Road Less Traveled



I stood when I noticed Keira walking toward my table. I almost didn’t recognize her. Short curly blond hair framed her face and dark blue jeans enhanced her curves. A lacy green shirt caused her emerald eyes to sparkle.

“Hello, I’m Guy Bensen, and you are?”

“Keira Maddock. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand.

Instead of a handshake, I gently pressed my lips to the back of her hand. I looked up to see a genuine smile. I pulled out her chair, and Keira placed a black pack at her feet as she sat down.

The waiter arrived, and I ordered drinks, imported Chardonnay.

I leaned forward and spoke quietly. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

She nodded and responded just as quietly. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner…Elaine Ramsey, that was you?”

My smile disappeared. “Eberhardt. I wish he hadn’t done that. It’s not like him to take matters into his own hands. He usually follows orders. It does complicate things.”

She nodded. “I know. If she thought I was dead, she doesn’t anymore. Even Scott thought the bomb was my doing. It’s why I dyed my hair.” She reached up to toy with a few curls.

“You should change your name.”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t have a bank account anymore. My apartment is gone. Madeline Jones is gone. All my paperwork on her was in my apartment when…anyway, as long as I continue to lay low, Ramsey shouldn’t be able to track me.”

I nodded. I wouldn’t bring it up again, but I would get the process started, just in case.

The waiter returned with our drinks, and I placed identical orders: the house salad, tilapia and steamed vegetables.

When he left, I noticed a question in Keira’s eyes.

“Why did you want to see me?” she asked.

I picked up a thin book, opened it and began to recite:



Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair…



Keira concluded the poem:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and II took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.



“The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost. Where did you get that?”

I handed her the book. “It was your father’s. Scott wanted you to have it. That poem means a lot to me too. I’ve never been one to take the popular route.” I hesitated, but only for a moment. “I hope I haven’t missed the right road,” I finished in a rush.

She smiled. “But how can we know which is the right road?”

“I think I know.” I looked directly into her radiant eyes. She held my gaze.

Our food arrived then. I looked away and took a deep breath.

During dinner, we talked about our childhoods. They had been different, to say the least.

Afterward, I asked, “Do you have anywhere you need to be tonight?”

“No, nowhere.”

“Will you walk with me? It’s such a beautiful evening.”

“All right.”

“May I carry that for you?” I indicated the black pack into which she’d placed the book of poetry. I wondered what else was in it. It probably contained everything she owned.

“I can carry it myself.” She spoke quickly but then looked at me and appeared to have second thoughts. “Um…okay.” She handed me the pack. “Thank you.”

The setting sun cast a pink hue on the horizon. As we walked, I gently took her hand in mine. Keira didn’t pull away so I laced my fingers through hers. We continued on, enjoying each others’ company.

“Hey, I know where we are.” She stopped suddenly and looked up at a tall apartment complex. “Didn’t a man named Oren Johnson used to live here?”

“Yes, he was renting from me, but I haven’t heard from him in some time,” I teased. “I think he skipped out on the rent.”

“That’s too bad! He’s giving up the most amazing whirlpool bath.”

“Let’s go in.” I led her into the building and opened the front door.

“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” I handed her the key.

Keira stepped inside. When I didn’t follow, she turned. “Where will you be staying?”

“Tonight, I can stay here if you’d rather not be alone. Then I’ll be at my apartment downtown.”

“Well come in! How much is the rent?”

“It’s a gift.”

Keira hesitated. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why not?”

She turned and noticed a painting on the wall. “The Degas! What’s it doing here?”

“Oh that. It arrived the same day as the “accident” at the Ramsey estate, along with a card. Just so we’re clear, Eberhardt never admitted to planting the bomb. This was his way of letting me know what he’d done for you.”

“What did the card say?”

“It had a symbol on it – a serpent in the shape of an S striking at a gold coin with a G imprinted on it.”

“A gold coin representing the Elite and a snake representing?”

“A serpent representing the common man,” I said. “Disliked and mistrusted by many. It’s a creature that will strike back with full force when pressed into a corner.”

Keira continued thoughtfully, “An ‘S’ and a ‘G’.”

“The letters stand for the founders of the Resistance,” I explained.

She was quiet for a long time. “He didn’t tell me,” she said. “Not even during our last conversation. Why wouldn’t he tell me something that important?”

“Secrecy is our way of life. It’s the only way the Resistance can thrive.”

“Maybe it’s the way for the Resistance, but it’s not the way between family and friends. He shouldn’t have kept something that important a secret.” She looked at me. “Please don’t keep secrets from me, Guy. Can you promise me that?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I won’t tell you other people’s secrets, and I would never tell anyone something that could compromise another person’s safety. But I won’t keep any unnecessary secrets from you. That’s the best I can promise.” Would it be enough?

Keira returned her attention to the painting. “Can you get rid of it?”

“But it’s worth a fortune!” Then I noticed her expression and said, “I’ll make it my second priority.”

“What’s your first priority?”

“You.” I reached for her hand. “There are some things I promised to do for you, and I always follow through on my promises.”

“What promises?”

“Well, Scott says you’ve never been on holiday. We can leave in a couple of weeks. Before that, I should have time to take you to a museum and to the ballet, as promised.”

“Where?”

“To a museum and to the theater.”

She grinned. “No, I mean where would we go on holiday?”

I smiled back. “The lake.”

“The lake? As in away from the city?”

I nodded. Her smile was the only response I needed.





-Keira-

Who Do I Want to Be?



Guy wasn’t like other men I’d known. He said the apartment was a gift, but was he really giving it to me without expecting anything in return? I wanted to trust him. Guy had demonstrated trust in me by telling me about the Resistance, and I would never betray that confidence. But trusting him completely…well, that would take more time. What was important was that I wanted to give it time, wanted to give us time.

Again, he asked, “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“Yes,” I said.

In the darkening bedroom, I removed my jeans and shirt and hung them in the closet. I dug through my pack and hung up my other pants and shirts as well. After pulling a simple white tank top over my bra and panties, I decided I was ready for bed. I climbed under the comforter.

Guy waited in front of the mirror that hung over the dresser. Then he followed my example and climbed into bed wearing only his boxers.

He caressed my shoulders and back. At first, my muscles tensed. Is this what he’s been expecting? Then why didn’t he…that night? No matter, it’s a fair exchange for giving me a place to stay. When I tried to roll over, he nudged me back and continued the massage. Eventually, I began to relax, and I fell asleep.

When I woke, sunlight streamed in through the open window. Guy was gone, but I found a note on the dining table.



Keira,



I had to go to work. Buy whatever you’d like for our trip to the lake. You can reach Eberhardt at 55-53-75-30. Call him for a ride when you’re ready to leave. I’ll stop by tonight. Dinner’s on me.



Love,

Guy



Love? I picked up the pile of gats that had been left near the note and studied them. Then I took Guy’s suggestion to call Eberhardt and go shopping. At noon, we stopped for lunch.

I wasn’t very hungry, so I picked at my salad while Eberhardt enjoyed a triple-decker sandwich. He hadn’t said much today, so I began. One of us had to.

“Thank you.”

He waved his hand. “It’s nothing. I drive Guy around all the time.”

“No, I mean thank you for everything else. For being my backup, for saving my life, for pulling me out of the bushes that night, and for that thing you’re not admitting to.” I sighed. “How can I ever repay you?”

He looked up in surprise. “You’ve got it all wrong. You don’t owe me anything. This is my way of paying off my debt.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“I owe them: my wife, my children. When they needed me, I wasn’t there.” He set down his sandwich. “The people who did this to me.” He indicated his scar. “They went after my family to get to me. Someone within the ranks…someone told them when I’d be gone. They went after my family when I was on a mission. I wasn’t there to protect them. My children are gone now. They didn’t survive the attack. My wife…well, everything I earn goes to pay for her care, but it isn’t enough. It’s never enough! That’s why I helped you. That’s why I do what I do. You don’t owe me anything.”



***



That evening, I sat on the sofa and waited for Guy. I began to sing quietly:



Yes, it’s only a canvas sky

Hanging over a muslin tree

But it wouldn’t be make-believe

If you believed in me.



I was willing to open up and try this wholeheartedly. Guy had helped Eberhardt when he was in a tough spot. He’d helped many others too, I was sure of it. Who is Guy Bensen? How is it that he’s always giving, without expecting anything in return? Could I ever be that selfless? I realized then that Guy might be able to help me answer the question I’d been asking for so long. Who do I want to be?