Cole
Cole sits at his desk flipping through footage of the last known sighting of The American crossing the Texas border into Mexico, three days ago. He leans back and rubs his face.So, this man was stepping back onto Mexican soil while we were all having dinner.He wonders where he was when Savannah first came here. There’s always the possibility they were followed, though it’s highly unlikely. They changed cars twice since the airport in North Dakota. Once at the border, and again before they climbed the mountain roads in Montana.
A ping alerting him to an email brings him back from his thoughts. He opens the message from Frank, his main contact within the Army. He clicks the attachment, and it opens to a video of Mayor Doug Fox sending out yet another media message about his daughter. Cole rolls his eyes as he presses play.
“It’s another cold New York day that I wake up and do not have my daughter to call. It’s been eight months since I’ve last heard her voice, gave her a hug, or told her I loved her.” He pauses for a breath while his chin quivers. “Please, return my sweet Savannah to me.” He claps his hand over his mouth. A woman steps up to the microphone, thanking the media for listening. The shaking mayor removes himself from the crowd.
Cole flicks the screen back to The American, deciding something does not add up. The American was normally involved with high profile men, not young women.Why the mayor’s daughter? They’d get more money if they took the mayor. The Cartels normally get more media coverage then, and they love to show their power. However, the mayor is doing a stellar job in that department.Cole leans into his hands, letting out a long breath.
“Cole?” He looks up to see Savannah standing in his doorway. “Sorry, your door was open.” She looks around his office. “Bad time?”
He’s barely seen her since the dinner with his father three days ago.
“No.” He drops his hands, trying to shake his stress. “Come in.”
She walks toward him, stopping when she gets to the chair. Her small fingers clasp the back of it.
“What can I do for you?”
“May I?” She points to the chair.
“Please.”
She sits and crosses her legs, running her hand through her hair and tossing it over to one side. A hint of apples reaches his nose. Focus.
“I think we should talk.” She clears her throat, as Cole’s stomach twists. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been avoiding you. I thought I should explain myself.”
He was not expecting this. He waits for her to go on.
“When I first met you, I called you my carrier because that’s what you were to me until I heard Abigail call you Logan. Then one night when I was in the living room, I heard some of the guys talking about this man Cole and how he—” She stops, fumbling with her hands.
“He what?” He wants to know where she is going with this.
“How he killed a rat by popping three between his eyes.”
Cole closes his eyes briefly.
“They talked about how many kills this Cole had, as well as the number of barehand kills. I was terrified to meet him. I was starting to let my guard down with you. I like that you did things that—” She blushes, pushing her lips together.
He leans forward in his chair, interested to know more about these things she likes.
“I was caught off guard when you told me your first name. I couldn’t believe that Cole was you. After taking some time to think it through, though, I realize I was judging you unfairly, because I don’t know you enough to judge you, so for that, I’m sorry.”
He watches her carefully, realizing it took a lot for her to come in here and tell him what she has been thinking. He leans back in his chair, a little annoyed at the same time.
“I imagine hearing something like that would frighten you. Sadly, the guys may spill more details as time goes on. I guess you can choose to understand what we do, or you can choose not to. I won’t say I’m sorry for killing those people. They were evil. In my line of work, there are the good guys and the bad guys. There can be no blurred lines. It’s black and white.”
“Okay.” Her voice is quiet.
There it is again. This is the problem he has with people. They don’t understand his life. They judge and run away. Anger rises in him, but he fights it down. How could she realize what his life is like?
“Now that we have that cleared up, is there anything else?” he asks, letting his temper ease up.
“Yes, actually. I know the rules, but can I get my hands on the internet?”
His back stiffens. The internet always poses problems.
“I’ll get Abigail to show you to a study where you can use the computer in private. Remember everything is being monitored.”