Stephanie Doyle - Calculated Risk

“Damn. I really thought that was it.”

Kahsan’s eyes grew dark and Sabrina could see the veneer of sophistication and polish he carried around like a cloak start to slip. In its place was the essence of evil that she knew was the bulk of his makeup. “Obviously not,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “Try again.”

This time Kevin seemed a lot less certain when he moved back to his computer. “He could be rotating the passwords. It’s what I do. So I would have to find the second to last thing keyed and assume it’s replaced the old password already.”

Both Kevin and Kahsan turned to her for confirmation. She bobbed her head. “Rotating passwords. Yeah, Arnold might try something like that.”

Kevin went back to work.

“Okay, I have it,” he announced. He walked back over to the monitor, but hesitated before he started to key anything in. “Uh…you might want to stand back.”

Kahsan didn’t have to be told. He was already as far away as the room would allow. Sabrina didn’t bother to move. Instead she moved up so she could look over the boy’s shoulder.

Shaky fingers carefully tapped out a ten-digit code. Each tap echoed in the room like a drumbeat. When he was done he pressed down on the enter key. Sabrina could see his eyes were closed.

The screen went blank for a second then it came back with a message. “Access Denied.”

Immediately, the kid jumped back expecting the machine to blow at any second. When nothing happened Kahsan turned to her for an explanation.

“Oh that’s right,” she said innocently. “I forgot. The older Arnold got the more his fingers would tremble. To give himself a break he allowed three chances to get the password right.”

“You lying bitch.” She watched Kahsan fight his inner demons, the ones telling him to kill her now. She hoped his common sense won out.

“Yes, but the good news is we get one more shot. Now, are we done letting the boy play his games? Because I really think it’s time for the girl to take over.”

His head hurt.

It was the first thought that penetrated through the searing pain. He moved his hand and reached for his temple and felt the wetness. When he opened his eyes even the dim light from the winter sun blinded him. So he closed them, marshaled his resources and tried again. This time when he opened his eyes he was able to focus on his fingers. They were sticky and red.

What had happened?

That his mind could form the question over the pounding beat that thudded against his temple was miraculous. Had something hit him?

No, someone had shot him.

Sabrina.

The events trickled through his brain like a movie preview. He’d found out through sources that she’d contacted Kahsan, heard from her that it was her plan to use herself as bait, decided that he could trust her and then…she shot him.

But he wasn’t dead. Instead the bullet had just grazed his scalp. Why had she done that? He knew enough about her skill with a gun to know that if she’d truly meant to kill him, he’d be dead.

You really thought I wanted to be some kind of hero?

No, he didn’t think she wanted to be a hero. For the most part she wasn’t hero material. But he did believe she was ready to get back in the game, ready to assume the responsibilities that came with her awesome gifts.

They hadn’t expected the kid. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen and was very obviously operating under duress. Had she changed the plan in an effort to save the boy? Maybe she was more of a hero than he knew.

It would also explain why he was still alive.

Quinlan shifted his head slightly and let his eyes refocus. Not two feet in front of him was Sabrina’s Colt Defender. There was no chatter in the area. No sound of a motorboat on the water, which told him they were probably already on the island.

There had been the driver who had been sent into the woods to serve as lookout. Where was he? Hopefully, not looking in Quinlan’s direction.

As cautiously as he could, he moved his hand away from his head and reached for the gun but came up short. Gaining purchase in the ground with his shoes, he pushed himself the necessary few inches forward and this time successfully gripped the weapon in his hand. There was still no sound from the woods and no indication that the driver had seen his movements.

Now armed, the only thing left to do was act. With a burst of speed he rolled onto his back, aiming the Defender at nothing, waiting for his opponent to act first. His eyes scanned the clearing and as far as he could see into the woods, but there were no sudden movements. More importantly no gunshots.

Confident now, and with a lingering suspicion, Quinlan sat up. His head protested by blurring his vision and he feared for a moment he would black out. But like the soldier he’d been trained to be, he fought through the pain and nausea and got to his feet. His first steps were more like staggers, but eventually he was able to find his balance. To clear his vision even more he lifted his right arm up using the sleeve of his jacket to stem the blood that was still dripping from his wound.

That’s when he spotted him. The driver was sitting in the grass. His back against a tree, he might have been taking a catnap. But the angle of his head on his shoulders told Quinlan otherwise. Nevertheless he approached cautiously, his weapon trained on him at all times. Within a few feet he saw the gaping hole in the back of the man’s head and the seeping blood that flowed down over his back in a morbid stream.

Quinlan looked back to where he’d lain on the ground, the puddle of blood visible in the dirt and studied the angle.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

Annie Oakley had struck again.

Kahsan still had his gun on the boy, even as he glared at her. “Why should I trust anything you say? You’ve lied. Twice.”

“I withheld information. It’s really not uncommon in these situations,” Sabrina insisted. “Hey, you gave the kid a try. He came up short. Now, I think we want to talk about my money. “

Kahsan’s arm pivoted and suddenly the gun was pointed at her.

“You’re kidding me?” she laughed. Then the laughter stopped when the gun remained pointed at her face. Coldly, Sabrina reminded him, “You have one chance, and only one chance to get into this computer. Wonder Boy here has proven he can’t get the job done. I don’t think you’re going to kill me. I think you’re going to pay me.”

Quinlan left the driver and headed for the only option left to him to cross the river. He’d considered and dismissed swimming. Though it might be faster, the temperature of the water was low enough to induce hypothermia. He could be halfway across before he felt the effects, but then it would be too late. The small rowboat had two oars tucked inside under the tarp he’d used to hide himself earlier. He untied it from the dock, jumped inside and fought against the raging pain in his head as he dropped the bottom half of the oars into the water and began stroking.

The boat seemed to move by inches over the water and Quinlan cursed even as he pushed himself harder to cover the distance. He had only one immediate problem right now. And that was time.

Kahsan’s and Sabrina’s eyes locked. She had to clamp down a shiver of disgust against his dark soulless gaze. The holdout for money was nothing more than a stalling tactic. She was running out of options and hoped that maybe a few more minutes was all Quinlan would need to reach them. If not, she saw only one chance but it would mean sacrificing Arnold’s work and quite possibly her hands, maybe even her life.

“Fine. You’ll get your money. Now get to it.”