Breached: Far From Home

Kaeldon locked the door to his apartment, and walked down the stairs of the communal block. The cement echoed beneath his feet, along the narrow halls towards the exit with the flickering orange light.

The cold air was a contrast compared to the stuffy heat inside. The radiators was on full, warming every room. He sighed, making a mental note that the heating would be off again for a little while, not to return on until he was almost home.

His cat, a ginger tomcat, couldn’t care less, and spent most of his days sleeping.

“Time to go,” he muttered. He made his way to the warehouse on sixth street, where he was to pick up the delivery for the night. He looked down at the piece of paper, scrawled hurriedly in his handwriting, and made a mental note of the journey and the risk. It was packed in a duffle bag, though the bag wasn’t light. It meant one thing to him; it needed to inconspicuous—the less attention to it, the better. He felt his throat go dry, but forced himself to ignore it. That was why he was popular. No questions asked… at least, not until he’s handed it off to the buyer. Even then, he doesn’t always ask. He’s better off not knowing, especially if he doesn’t want people asking him questions. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him—and most importantly, it keeps him alive.

The rain was unforgiving, and every curb was hidden beneath a pool of black puddles that swallowed his shoes at every corner. He groaned in disgust, shaking the water from his shoes once again. His feet screamed in pain, a cold numbing pain that worsened with every step.

Finally, the street corner came into view at the far end of the road. He could just about make out the dim flickering of the streetlight, pointing the way. He tightened his grasp around the bag, shifting it to the front of his chest. His heart pounded, praying that whatever he was carrying, wasn’t going to result in him exploding at the scene—or shot.

Kaeldon clutched his duffle bag against his chest, walking into the icy cold wind. Rain fell hard, attacking the surfaces as if they were engulfed in flames. It had been like this all day, like thousands of tiny needles piercing his skin. Gritting his teeth against the cold, he finally approached his destination: Bakers Way. Despite the name, the road was anything but pleasant.

Four men stood huddled in the furthest corner, where the alleyway cuts behind the post office. Their hands were tucked deep in their pockets, and windbreakers covered their necks.

“You’re late.” The gang leader stepped forward, his voice sounding hoarse from the cold. His sharp clipped tone cut through the silence with undisguised displeasure.

“Yeah, well. I’m here ain’t I?” Kaeldon retorted. “There’s more security out tonight, so had to work my way around them. It’s not like I can carry this with me in plain sight.” He put the bag down on the floor, and sighed, taking a breath. Then, turned his attention back to his customers. “You got the money?”

The gang leader reached inside his coat and pulled out a large A4 envelope and waved it in front of him.

“It’s right here. But how do I know the stuff inside the bag is what I paid for?”

Kaeldon sighed. It seemed like most of the buyers were all reading from the same script. It didn’t bother him that much, and decided to do the same.

“I don’t pack the merchandise,” he explained, pointing to the bag. “And I didn’t ask, nor did I look.” He signalled to the bag on the floor. “Feel free to check it. As far as I am aware, the people who bought it from are the ones that packaged. As I said, I didn’t look and I didn’t ask.”

That seemed to have satisfied them. He didn’t even know their names, keeping the whole transaction as clean as possible.

“All right,” the leader said, giving a firm nod. He passed over the bulky envelope, hoping that the full amount was inside.

Kaeldon tucked it into his own coat, and stepped away from the bag.

The leader smiled, and gestured his men to pick it off the floor.

“Just so I know,” Kaeldon asked, hesitating. “How close to death did I come, on this delivery?”

The leader looked at him for a long minute before laughing. “As close as you are if you were going for a walk. The only threat is the people. The package itself is harmless.”

Kaeldon laughed, relief visible. “That’s good. Nice doing business with you.”

“You as well. Good night.”

Kaeldon waved, and headed down the street, back towards his home. In the distance, he could hear the zip being pulled on the bag as they looked inside, and laughed. If the sound of cheering was anything to go by, it sounded like they were happy with the results.

The way back was quiet. He arrived back home, with midnight approaching. Yawning, he dug his keys out from his pocket and slipped it into the lock.

The moment the door was unlocked, he stepped inside and closed it again. The heating had already kicked into life, welcoming the warmth like an old friend.

He followed his hall, passing the kitchen and the living room and stepped straight into the bathroom.

He turned the temperature of his shower as high as it would go, and pushed the button. Water jets burst from the hose head, whilst he stripped off his rain-drenched clothes and kicked them to the side.

Showered and ready for bed, he climbed in and pulled the blanket over his head.

A few hours later, he was woken by a pounding on the door.

“Kaeldon, open up you traitor!”

Kaeldon groaned, prying his eyes open slowly.

“What the hell?”

He rolled out of his bed and turned on the light to see the clock. It hung on the wall, each second sounding like a count down.

“Kaeldon, I know you’re in there!!”

He sighed, wrapping his robe around him before answering the door.

He peered through the peephole, and frowned. The gang leader from his delivery earlier, was standing at the door with an angry scowl, looking visibly beaten.

He opened the door, despite his better judgment telling him to leave it alone.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” his words came out with spit spraying from his mouth.“I tried to use the penetration shields this evening, and it didn’t work! Not only did it NOT allow us to breach a magnetic shield, it also gave away our location. Did you know it was tracked?”

Kaeldon blinked at him as he tried to process the information.

“I did not know that. How could I have known. I didn’t know what was in the bag until you told me what you bought. I told you, I haven’t touched, nor packed any of the items. All I did was deliver, and I did.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Guy, I don’t even know your name. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Kane.”

“What?” Kaeldon frowned, confused.

“Kane,” he repeated coldly, as if it made any difference. “My name is Kane.”

Kaeldon sighed defeatedly. “Great. Kane, I’m not going to risk damaging it or getting it dirty. If I had been reckless, then I wouldn’t have been paid. And the reason I was sent as the courier, is because I don’t look and I don’t ask questions.”

Kane searched his face for signs of deceit. A twitch, a cough. Anything.

Kaeldon didn’t fight back, but simply watched and waited for logic to kick in—or his anger to fade.

“And what stops you from looking? You don’t have a crew, or a partner.”

Kaeldon shrugged. “My reputation, mostly. Like I said, people like that I don’t ask. My clientele isn’t exactly on the level. Then, there’s the question of whether or not I want to stay alive.”

Kane tilted his head, hesitation flickering on his face.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I value my life, and I need the money. I’m not going to screw up my business for shits and giggles. Nor do I take any pride in messing up other people’s lives.”

“Not even for more money?” He asked, suspiciously.

“No. I need money and my reputation. My clients need wont come to me if my rep dives. I’m telling you, you have the wrong guy.”

He yawned, the long day and lack of sleep was catching up to him.

“Now, can you let me go. I have work in the morning and I haven’t slept in two days.”

Kane’s glare hardened, but he let him go.

“You can sleep in the cruiser. If you didn’t touch the merch, then someone else screwed me.”

Kaeldon blinked, stunned. “What?”

“You heard. You’re going to show me exactly where you picked the package from, and who signed for it.”

“Fine. But just so you know, the next time I deliver from your merchant, I’m charging double the delivery fee. I did not get paid enough for this shit.”

Kane pulled Kaeldon through the door, eager to get moving.

“What the hell—no! Wait a damn minute!” Kaeldon snapped.

Kane stopped, and snapped his head round towards him, about to close the door. “What?!”

He gestured towards his figure, and took a step back. He was still in his pyjamas. “You want to be seen with me like you’ve just kidnapped me from my bedroom? Or am I permitted to get dressed?”

“Fuck sake,” he muttered, his face showing an odd mix of embarrassment and irritation. “Make it quick.”

Kaeldon rushed into his bedroom, leaving Kane and his goons at the door. He threw on a clean set of clothes, threw another outfit into a duffle bag, and hesitated. He had no idea if he was coming back. He glanced down at his cat, curled up on his bed. A pang tugged at his heart. Steeling himself, he decided he’ll just have to take the cat with him. He rushed into the bathroom, ignoring the men giving him impatient glares.

Inside, he closed the door and reached into the back of the cupboard and reached for his gun. Finally, he grabbed the cat carrier, lead the cat inside the crate and locked the latch. Satisfied that he had everything important, he threw his wallet into the duffle, and slipped on his boots. Kane leaned against the wall, watching his every move.

Kaeldon looked back at him with a wary smile, then strode towards them. “All right, I’m ready.”

Kane gestured towards the luggage with an raised brow. “What the hell is all this?”

“Look, I’m not stupid. The chances of this going sideways is a lot more likely than zero. So, if I’m not coming back, I’m making damn sure that I have everything with me.” He hauled the duffle bag over his shoulder, and carried the cat in the other. “Let’s go.”

Kane followed him out, watching as the door latched shut. The sound of their footsteps echoed down the hall, back towards the flickering orange light. Taking a deep breath, silently saying goodbye to the life he had built, he stepped out into the night.

“First car on the left,” Kane instructed.

Kaeldon nodded, doing as he was told. He placed his bag between his feet and the cat crate on his lap. Then, without another word, Kane tapped his driver on the shoulder. The engine roared to life and pulled away from the curb.

***

It was a twenty minute drive through the empty roads. With no traffic blocking the junctions, they made the journey to the warehouse in record time.

“Just here,” Kaeldon said, pointing to the worn warehouse across from them. The door was peeling and the walls were thick with oil.

“Are you sure?” Kane asked, challenging him.

“Yes.” He unfastened his seatbelt, already grabbing his bag and cat carrier to climb out of the car.

“It looks locked.”

Kaeldon grunted. “Well, it’s gone three in the morning, of course it’s locked. You didn’t seem to care about that back at my place—if you recall, you almost had me here in my PJs.”

Kane fell silent, dragging his hands down his face. Kaeldon was right. He had been impatient and now, they were standing in the cold with no plan.

“What would you suggest?”

Kaeldon looked around, then pointed to the hotel Inn across the road. “How about what I wanted to do in the first place? Get some sleep and deal with it in the morning.”

Kane glared at him, but agreed. “Fine. We’ll sleep for a couple of hours. When do they open?”

He gestured to the timetable pinned to the entrance, clearly labelling the opening hours as 8AM to 11PM. “See this thing here? This tells you when the warehouse opens and closes. Take a look.”

“Thanks,” he replied, matching the sarcastic tone. “I guess we’re coming back at eight then.”

“Yes. That gives us less than two hours to sleep. It’s no where near enough, but it’s not my problem. As soon as this is done, I’m gone.” Kaeldon pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, and scribbled a note with a pen that didn’t work. The ink was almost unreadable, as Kaeldon pinned the note to the top of the crate.

“Please look after Tom. He’s 12. — K.C.”

He walked towards the house beside the hotel and knocked on the door with three sharp bangs.

As soon as the sound of footsteps was close, he dipped into the hotel’s porch and watched.

A woman looked around frowning, then lowered her gaze to the step in front of her. A sob escaped her lips, as she wiped a tear and carried Tom inside. “Goodbye Tom,” he whispered sadly. “You’ll be safe here. Maybe, one day, I’ll come back for you.” Even as he said the words, it sounded like a lie. A lump caught in his throat, feeling his chest tighten. He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting back the urge to cry. His only friend was safe, now, he just needed to make sure that he didn’t die himself.

“Come on,” he rasped. “I’m tired. Let’s get some sleep before we run out of time.”

Kane and his musclemen followed him inside, and paid for a family suit. The receptionist raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment. With a wary smile, she pointed to the top floor. “Eighty eight,” she told them. “Third door on the right.”

The family suit had two rooms. Kaeldon took the smallest room whilst Kane and the two goons—now identified as Solaninski and Skylo—took the other.

Kaeldon smirked, his back turned to them. Their names were definitely… something. He closed the door and laid on top of his bed. His head sank into the soft pillow. Sleep took him in minutes.

***

The alarm from the next room blared before cutting off mid-blast of what sounded like a fog horn. Bolting upright, he snatched his bag with his hands, and his heart pounding in his chest. It took a moment to remember where he was and what they were doing in the hotel. He groaned, realisation sinking in. Kane, Solaniniski and Skylo were right on the other side. He calmed his breathing down, opening the door with a forced yawn.

“You gonna buy me breakfast, or are we waiting until you’ve spoken to your merchant?”

“Breakfast comes with the room,” Kane replied. He glanced at his watch, his face falling. “Which we apparently missed. Fuck!”

Kaeldon sighed, not at all surprised. “Yeah, they tend to open at six. Look, the warehouse will be opening in a couple of minutes. We have enough time for a coffee before we leave. Then, I’ll show you to the merchant and I’ll disappear.”

“Not before we get answers.”

“Which,” Kaeldon said, his tone hardening, “is why we’re out here. I told you, I deliver. Now, I’m delivering you. That’s me done. Anything else, you speak to them.”

“Yes. We’ll speak to the merchant, and get our money back for the package. Then, maybe, we’ll let you leave. But not before.”

Kaeldon froze. “You said nothing about a refund.”

“Of course we’re here for a refund. The product is not what we ordered. Did you think we’d just take the loss?”

Kaeldon laughed. “In this line of business? Yes! You take the loss and not use the same merchant the next time. You buy from someone else. You do not, however, get a refund.”

“Why the fuck not?” It was Skylo that asked this time.

Kaeldon looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “Look at that. Your pet speaks.” He took a deep breath, trying not to shake from rage. “Refunds get you killed.”

“Said who?”

Kane watched, irrigation growing, as he waited for an explanation.

Kaeldon slumped back on to the bed, defeated. “The last person the merchant upset. Wanted a refund on a booster mod. He got a booster with a sticker slapped on the side. He asked for a refund, and he said no. They argued. Then, he was… resolved.”

“Resolved how?” Kane asked cautiously.

Kaeldon didn’t look up.

“Bullet to the back of his head.”

They fell silent, processing the risks.

After a long pause, Kane shook his head. “He was stupid to turn his back. We won’t be doing that today. Either he pays, or you do. But I’m not leaving until I get my money back—every single cent of it.”