I Own the Dawn: The Night Stalkers (17 page)

“Sergeant Kee Smith answering a page.” She’d snagged a pay phone at the Castello. She still hadn’t completely caught her breath from their run back.

“Location?” The operator’s voice was Army impersonal.

“Castello Sonnino, south of Livorno, Italy. On a nonsecure phone.”

“Understood.” The silence stretched for thirty seconds as a keyboard rattled at the other end of the line.

To Archie’s raised eyebrows, all she could offer was a shrug. He moved close enough that they could both hear. She could feel his body heat, but how long would it be before she found another chance to do something about it?

“There is a northbound bus that will be stopping your location in one hour and five minutes. Proceed all haste to Livorno. From there,” more keys rattling, “you’ll have an hour to catch the bullet train to Rome. Tickets will be waiting at the airport.”

“I also have contact with Lieutenant Archibald Stevenson.”

“Roger that. Same. Confirm?”

Boat? She mouthed at him.

Dad. Archie nodded it would be okay.

Dilya? He asked in turn.

Kee smacked her forehead. Who knew what they were flying into?

Parents? She asked.

Archie waggled a hand, then shook his head. He mimicked signing a piece of paper. Right. Dilya’s travel documents required she be in Kee’s care.

“Do you confirm?” The voice on the other end, clearly impatient.

“Um, make those tickets for three.”

“Everyone else paged has already reported in.”

“I have a dependent traveling with me. Check your records.”

“Hold… She’s a kid.”

“She stays with me.”

“Your head.” On a platter. And his tone told her that he couldn’t care less if it were cut off or not.

“Confirmed.” Definitely her head.

The line clicked dead. The operator, safe in some Fort Campbell billet, didn’t care how much trouble Kee got in. As long as they were moving.

But what else was she supposed to do?

If she was lucky, they were being called back to their same base and Dilya could drop right back into her old routine.

If not… She didn’t have time to think about it right now.

***

Dilya took the sudden uprooting with the same flexible calm she always maintained. Archie’s father knew from experience that Archie could be gone on a moment’s notice.

It was his mother that Archie worried about. They’d built their first fragile connection and he didn’t know what to do about it. Given a couple days, with the start Kee had given him, they might begin to bridge the misunderstandings and hurt feelings that kept them apart. But now instead of days, they had minutes.

He knew he should be doing something about that, but he didn’t know what. They’d all rushed out to the boat and gathered their belongings. Now they stood at the Castello’s bus stop with a bag of sandwiches, sodas, and a large collection of cookies Kee had thrown together.

They had ten minutes. Maybe less.

He inspected the pretty sailboat anchored out in the cove along with a dozen others. The wind carried the soft sound of the surf up the hill. He’d thought to have time to teach Kee how to sail. Not even three days aboard, not enough time. Never enough time.

Kee swore loudly in Spanish, clearly ready to unleash a stream of profanity but stopping for Dilya’s sake. The girl knew so little English, they’d all agreed to be careful not to start her off speaking like an Army grunt. Even Tim and John had bought in.

Kee grabbed both his hand and his mother’s. She dragged them five quick steps along the road, away from Dilya and the worried look furrowing his father’s brow.

She turned to his mother.

“Betty, it has been a great pleasure meeting you.” She gave the woman a hug that was returned tentatively at first, and then, with a sudden strength, his mother wrapped her arms tightly about Kee’s neck and held on.

Archie could feel envy for that. Kee grew close to people so easily. They trusted her, and she them, with an ease he had never achieved.

When they parted, his mother nodded. Archie knew how hard the words were for her, he hoped Kee understood how much his mother had unbent in her presence.

Kee turned to stand toe to toe with him and looked up into his face. He raised a hand to brush her cheek, but she slapped it aside. She’d thrown that internal switch she had, faster than the blink of an eye from lover to Army sergeant. Was lover the right word, or perhaps—

“Okay. Remember, it was you who asked.”

“Asked what?” Had he asked anything in the hectic hour they’d just spent rushing to ship and back to shore?

“I grew up on the Street. Capital
S
. It’s a place all its own. Daughter of a coke whore and who the hell knows. She sure didn’t. She’s dead now, I guess. I couldn’t find her when I went looking after basic training. I didn’t look too hard. Didn’t see her much before the Army either.”

Archie opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked over Kee’s head at his mother. She didn’t look surprised, as if she already knew. Just accepting. Perhaps sorrowful.

Kee didn’t turn to check on her reaction, her attack had a single point of aim. Him.

He tried to think if he even knew anyone whose mother was dead. Divorced, sure. But dead? And not caring?

“I grew up stealing for food, fighting for a place to sleep, and trusting absolutely no one at any time for any reason.” Kee’s voice continued like hammer blows battering against him. He fell back a step but she didn’t stop. Her words shot out short and sharp as if fired from her minigun in a rapid-fire stream he couldn’t dodge or evade.

“I slept with men or women for food. Not for money, though in a way I did. Anna fed both of us. When the hunger gnaws at your belly long enough and deep enough, you don’t care anymore. I killed to stay alive. My best and only friend was a whore,” Kee reached for the small braid of blond hair, “who died in my arms at eighteen. I killed her murderers in a gunfight, and I don’t have a single regret about that. If I could have known beforehand, I’d have killed them first and taken the Murder One charge. It wasn’t self-defense. I was alive. They were leaving. It was an execution. But they’d taken down cops. They were on L.A.’s Most Wanted. The judge gave me a choice of prosecution or the Army.”

Each phrase so foreign, so alien. From another life.

“This is your mother.” She turned to his mother. “This is your son. You two have no idea what a gift you each have in the other. Now get with the goddamn program!” Fury suffused her face, making it dark and more dangerous than he’d ever seen. She stalked away still in full warrior mode past Dilya, past his father. Finally grinding to a halt a dozen yards down the road.

Archie looked at his mother. They stood two steps apart, a chasm that neither had really crossed in as long as Archie could remember.

It always felt like she hadn’t been there, but he could remember she had. She’d rarely missed a school event. Was aboard for the maiden voyage of every sailboat he and his father had ever built. She was the one who had taught him Cat’s Cradle, Jacob’s Ladder, and all the string figures he shared with Dilya.

He’d gone to West Point to impress her, but now he saw that he hadn’t needed to. That he had grown to love it as well had been a gift of its own.

He closed his eyes against all those years with so much distance between them. So far apart. Yet here she stood, right now, living and breathing.

He could hear the sound of the bus as it crested the hill out of Quercianella and put on the brakes at finding their party waiting at the stop in front of the Castello.

He opened his eyes and saw the tears running down his mother’s cheeks, felt them on his own.

All these years they hadn’t needed words.

They both took a step forward and wrapped their arms around each other.

And they didn’t need words now.

Kee feigned exhaustion on the bus and the train. She couldn’t keep it up forever, but it wasn’t all a sham. Stepping back into her past had drained her to the core. Keiko Sato was a screwed-up, nasty, vicious little shit she’d left standing at the curb five years ago. Hadn’t even bothered to toss her gun in the sewer. Just stood there and watched Anna bleed out. The hole in her forehead didn’t bleed much, but it made tending any of the other injuries a waste of time. The cops were a long time coming.

She was better than that girl who’d had no concept of life beyond the streets. She changed her name the day she signed with the Army and no one complained. Kee Smith, the all-American kid from absolutely nowhere. Now she was SOAR. And that was more than she’d ever expected to achieve. A member of Emily Beale’s crew, and Kee now knew that meant something. People trusted her. Trusted her not to screw up and get them all killed.

And that was where the convictions rose.

Anna had depended on her. Had called Kee her own personal lifesaver. Kee was always finding little gifts of bright, round Life Savers in her pocket, under her pillow, in her shoe. Anna had been a gentle, dark-eyed, golden-haired beauty. Willowy and fragile against Kee’s strength. When a trick tried to rough Anna up, Kee was crouched in the hallway ready to pound the shit out of him.

And she’d died in a random drive-by, not something even Kee could guard against. Even the best guard couldn’t stop that, but she’d been the one to fix it. Personal risk was never an issue. On the Street, living past sixteen wasn’t all that common. It allowed a certain mental freedom to take on all comers.

The Army offered a different view and a better life expectancy. For one thing, you had to be eighteen to join. It already selected for the survivors. Still Kee’d lost so many squadmates in the 10th Mountain and later in the Green Berets that it was hard to keep track. Usually they lived, if you got to them fast enough. Field medicine and medevac were so good that if you found ’em alive, they usually stayed that way. But no one who’d been in combat deep really counted themselves alive if they were blind or crippled or one-armed. Especially not the guys who’d been hurt.

For now she had a crew and a little girl. And whatever Archie was. She glanced over as covertly as she could, picking up Dilya’s cat from the floor where it had slid while the girl slept. Archie stared off into the distance not seeing the outskirts of Rome flitting past their window. He’d kept to himself since they’d left the bus stop.

Had she chased him off? Too much reality for the Boston blue blood? Easy answer of yes. Bastard. Well, it had just been one night in the sack, plus some fooling around on an Italian hilltop. She’d certainly had enough one-night stands in her life. No biggee.

While it proved hard to be surprised, that it hurt like hell shocked her. Kee’d certainly enjoyed his body. She hadn’t gone with the long and lean often, but what he could do with it had made her a convert.

And running. There were men who could outrun her, a few. She’d always enjoyed running in unison with a squad, even while wearing full gear and a pack. And there were always other grunts who loved to run. Archie was a step beyond. Their run over the Italian countryside had filled her with a harmony, an ease, a joy that even the sex in the grass hadn’t really matched. Their bodies constantly found a state of soundless communication that just flat-out worked for her.

Now… Walking away from a lover had never felt like a knife in the gut. Not before this.

On the flight from Rome to Kabul, he still hadn’t come back. Even Dilya was watching him strangely.

“Thousand-yard stare.” That look when someone’s thoughts were turned so far inward, you could slip a grenade down their pants and they might not notice. Usually happened to forward-deployed grunts who saw one buddy too many wiped off the face of the planet. Archie looked as if Kee’d just been shot dead in front of him. Maybe she had. Gone from a cuddlesome quick bit on the side to way too real. He looked full-on shell-shocked.

That had been one of the things that had perplexed the psychologists at her pretrial assessment. Her best friend had died in her arms. She’d shot the three perps dead in cold blood. And the psychs couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t in shock.

She could have told them, but they never asked her.

They were measuring how they would react with their own little college backgrounds and their safe little families and their little hopes for the future. Sure. No big surprise. Death would shock the shit out of them.

After the twentieth member of your gang eats it before the age of fifteen, it’s no longer a surprise. The surprise is surviving. She and Anna had often talked about their own life expectancies. Certainly neither had thought to hit sixteen, never mind eighteen. They were old for the Street. Anna’s time had come. Sure, Kee mourned her, but there was no surprise. No shock. She’d been absolutely clearheaded when she’d gunned down the three assailants. She knew it for the cold-blooded murder of scum who had it coming, not the “momentary insanity” the psychologists put in her file.

She and Anna had held no dreams of adulthood, just as they’d never had a childhood. The Street never let anyone out.

But here Kee was. And she’d made it to the old age of twenty-four. The Army had already extended her life by six more years. Damn good deal even if some raghead deep-sixed her tomorrow.

Well, if Archie couldn’t deal with the shit that was her past, to hell with him. Just as well, officer and enlisted had no way to work except in some sailboat dreamworld.

And with that, she slept most of the way to the front.

***

Dilyana waited and watched. The Kee and the String Man had changed twice after leaving on their run. Almost like different people in the same skin.

First, they had come back from their running, all in a hurry. That was fine with her. She’d liked the beach but had worried that The Kee would forget her promise. Dilya knew the chances of finding her parents’ killers were small. But other girls might be losing their parents and Dilya worried that The Kee would spend the rest of her life on the boat. She’d promised to kill the killers if she could. They wouldn’t be on the sailboat or the beach. Then she saw The Kee packing Dilya’s drawings in her bag and knew she hadn’t forgotten.

The second change worried her. It had started with all those words The Kee had spilled on Calledbetty and the String Man. The
domla
, the Professor, had held his mother and they both had cried. It had looked like happy crying.

But The Kee hadn’t been happy. She had crawled inside herself so deep that Dilyana wondered if she could find her way back out.

At first the
domla
failed to notice, too lost in his own world. On the bus and the train he kept his silence, and neither she nor The Kee broke it. On the plane, he came back to himself. Enough to look at The Kee sleeping. He watched her a long time, a soft smile on his face.

Dilyana knew that look. The Kee raged and fought and struggled, but the
domla
would again teach his lesson in his language of patience and they would be together.

As sleep finally overtook her, Dilya daydreamed of an image. One she couldn’t quite see. A dream of three.

Tall, medium, and the last one Dilya-sized.