Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) (8 page)

“Kai? Are you okay?” Salah asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Yeah, just…worried.” I said firmly.

“About Zenda?” He implored.

“Are you sure you’re not a mind reader?” I smiled, “Because now I have my doubts.”

He laughs with me for a moment, but then turns serious, “So why are you worried about her? You don’t worry about anything.”

“Did you know that I’ve never had an enemy that’s won against me?” I asked.

“No way! You’ve never been defeated?” He wonders, clearly shocked.

“Not by a real enemy. I’m afraid she’ll beat me. She’s got the entire police force on her side and I know nothing about her. We’d have to sneak into a records facility to even look her up!” I told him, exasperated.

“We can do that,” He reassured me, “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure nobody ever beats you. Except, of course, myself.”

“Thanks, but if it weren’t for my leg, I’d stand up and destroy you right now. But, we can wait until we’re in Ireland to do that.” I told him with a grin.

“Whatever you say.” He smiled, “But I wasn’t ready the first time we fought. There has to be a rematch – and don’t hold back this time.”

“Alright. I’ll be as tough with you as I am with my real enemies.”

“Good.”

“I hope you’re ready to be hospitalized.”

And suddenly, a burst of light appeared and suddenly the
Wasp
was in front of us, Rowan sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Hop in!” He mouthed the words through the windows.

“Or limp,” Salah whispered under his breath.

“Help me up?” I asked, after he had gotten to his feet.

He offered me his hand and I took it, feeling more helpless than I had in a long time.

Salah helped me gimp up to the
Wasp
, and when we got to the iron steps, I decided to just go for it and take a leap of faith – literally. My fantastic balance aided me in my great one-footed bound up the steps. When Salah was barely up the steps, Rowan gunned the engine, jolting us forward on the way to Ireland. Even though my little ship can handle light speed, Rowan knew not to push our luck since we were only going to Ireland.

I watched the scenery blur by once we were in the air, ignoring the pain throbbing through my leg well. The vast Sahara spread out below us, the dunes creating a wave like effect, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the Mediterranean Sea, glistening green in the light. Eventually though, we reached the coast of the Atlantic, leading us out over the gloomy ocean. Once we were over the vast sea, it became harder to ignore the garish mass that was my wounded thigh.

I risked glancing down at the wound, and was surprised by two things. The first was the fact that my leg was mutilated so badly it hardly looked like it could belong to a human and the second was that the pain wasn’t as bad as it should be. The hole was the size of my fist, at least the visible wound. The skin was pealed back, exposing the muscle underneath. But there was no blood pulsing out of it, as I would have expected. Instead, blood flowed over my muscles, as if there was no wound at all. Blood that had spilled earlier ran down my leg, At the center of the injury was my bone, poking out through my flesh. The grotesque image would be burned in my memory for a long time to come.

Curious
. Hard to believe how my body is – genes differing from any other’s, so different, in fact, that I could be wounded and my body simply continued functioning around the wound. It was genetic, of course – my mother simply healed, as if by magic, and my father could suffer massive beating without shedding any blood. It made sense that my own body would be able to suffer gashes without pain or bleeding. If could be my strange mind completely overriding my pain receptors instead of giving in. My will is strong and my subconscious was even tougher.

June 15
th
3:48 pm

Dublin, Ireland. Ambrosine.

Soon enough, we were in the car park of Ambrosine in Dublin, the leading nucleic facility in the world – the only one that caters to criminals and the like. This place realizes something the rest of the galaxy needs to learn:  those of us living under the radar pay for the best and will pay the most for it; anything to keep things confidential and quality.

“Rowan, help me out of here,” I said, attempting to sit up. When I did, the blood that was previously restrained came flooding out.

“We just got this reupholstered,” I mumbled stupidly at the tan leather under me. The pain still wasn’t hitting me, even though I could feel my tibia sticking through my skin and saw my femur slicing my flesh.

“Oh god. Kai! That’s really bad. Does it hurt?” Rowan asked.

“Not really. I swear – it’s really strange but it honestly doesn’t hurt that bad.” I decided not to shrug when I saw the bruises blossoming on my shoulders.

“Sure…” He replied, not giving up. Rowan pushed open the door, let Salah out, and looked me in the eyes.

“Once we’re done here, what are we doing?” He whispered, coming closer so Salah wouldn’t here.

“We’re training our new…accomplice. I’m going to teach him about will power, some-thing he obviously lacks – and something he crucially needs, as our will is our true weapon.” I smiled.

“Hold on.” Rowan grimaced as he lifted me out of my seat and into his arms – like in some lame romantic comedy, if we weren’t siblings, of course. I don’t even know why he grimaced for two reasons: he’s very,
very
strong, and second I’m only about one hundred and forty pounds – not that much for someone packed with muscle.

Rowan carries me to the inside of the facility – a great white building with matching interior – and sets me down before rushing to a desk.

“Kairee and Rowan Dunham. My sister needs to get in immediately!” Row tells the receptionist, a slender brunette wearing an atrocious pink suit.

“Dun…D-Dunham?” The woman was practically cowering behind her desk.

“Snap out of it!” Rowan yelled, “We
need
to get in.
Now.
” He allowed the power to escape from behind his midnight eyes, virtually hypnotizing her.

“Alright…I…” the receptionist was gathering her wits and took a few seconds to recover, “I’ll go get Doctor McKinley.”

At the name of my favorite doctor, I perked up a bit. Doctor Hearthwood McKinley, originally from my home planet, was the best nucleic doctor in the galaxy, and also a personal friend of mine – a mentor, if you will – who helped with my mind training when I was younger. She’s the very reason my amazing mind can perform seemingly impossible deeds, like shutting doors without touching them; the sole person that caused my IQ to skyrocket off the charts and into unknown territory. I haven’t seen her in a few years and now I’m eager to show her how my powers have progressed.

A few moments later, my godmother, Hearthwood McKinley stepped out of a door at the corner of the room, one I had not previously noticed. That worried me. Lately I’ve noticed my sense of danger dulling. Anyways, she looked the same as she had five year ago. Her straight caramel hair fell down to her shoulders, long bangs falling in front of her gray eyes. Her ever smiling thin lips were coated with light pink gloss, making her look much younger than her thirty six. Her outfit was typical of an ND – knee length labcoat and green surgical gloves – even though they hardly ever had to do anything related to surgery. But, unlike most ND’s, Hearthwood was wearing a pair of spiky red heels that clicked on the floor as she walked to me.

“Kairee!” She smiled at me, but then looked at the fractures in my leg, and grew somber. “I see things are urgent. I’ll get you in right now.” She offered me her hand, and I took it, leaning against her. As she had trained even me, I knew she was strong enough to uphold me for a few moments.

“Hello again, Hearth. Sorry we have to meet on these terms.” I told her as we walked – well, she walked, I hobbled – off towards one of the rooms I had so often studied.

“What were you doing this time?” She grinned.

“The usual: being chased by the intergalactic police. I tried to jump onto a building and fell through a skylight.” I informed her.

“Just another day in the life of Kairee Dunham, I suppose.” She led me down a hallway, and into a large white room. I knew the process, as I had been in this room before. The room itself was not much, an octagonal space with some counter space towards the back. Around the center there was a hospital bed, surrounded by jars and vials of various liquids and gels.

“You know that drill,” Hearthwood said, nodding towards the bed. She helped me over to it, and I calmly sat down, attempting to keep blood from rushing out of the gash.

“Alright, Kai, relax.”

While she was working, I thought about my mother and Hearth. She and my mother had been best friends all through their youth, growing up on Saize together. When each of her children was born, my mother chose one of her friends, in order of favoritism, for her children. My aunts are my siblings’ godparents, but Rowan and my godmother was mother’s best friend. It was odd, but wonderful as I had grown up with Hearthwood’s kids, and she was practically another mother of mine. More of a mother, really, than mine had ever been.

Hearthwood stuck a needle into my arm, and I quietly drifted off into a drug-induced sleep, horrifying dreams quickly coming to mind.

June 15
th
3:55 pm

Ambrosine Lobby.

Rowan was tense in the lobby, waiting for his sister to be fine.

Thoughts raced around his head at a million miles per hour – thoughts of his sister, his family, his entire life. It was like Kairee and he were connected through a telepathic link. When she was hurt, Rowan became exceedingly on edge, and vise versa.

“So…what’s Kairee really like? I mean, she probably hates me, but what is she like with you?” Salah asked.

“Why do you care? She’ll never care about you like she cares about me.” Rowan replied angrily. Salah knew not to take it personally – Rowan had to be tenser than usual with his Kairee all banged up.

“Because…I like her. And I-”

“Listen, Salah,” Rowan snapped suddenly, “Back off my sister.”

“What?” Salah laughed, “Is this one of those ‘you break her heart and I’ll break your face’ kind of things?”

“No.” Rowan grimaced, “It’s one of those ‘If you lay a hand on her, I’ll kick your ass to the next millennium’ things. Got it?”

“I think I could take you.” Salah told him.

“In your dreams. If you couldn’t take Kairee, you can’t take me.”

“I bet you I could. What are the stakes?” Salah inquired.

“How about this: I win, which I will, and you have to stay away from Kairee and listen to me, and if I lose, which I won’t, you have my…blessing. You can try to date Kairee, if she doesn’t kill you herself. That all right for you?”

“So we’re basically fighting for your sister’s honor?” Salah smirked.

“No, we’re fighting so you know where your place is. My sister may be the head of this mission, but I’m her right hand man, and you’re just our dummy.”

“When I win, I hope you know where my place really is.”

“You’re on.”

ﻬﻬﻬ

“Your will, I see, has progressed significantly since we stopped your training a few years ago.” Hearthwood said after my operation was done, which I did not remember.

“Not as much as I would have liked, but at least now I can move things with my will, break bones and such, and hopefully it’ll give me an advantage in future fights.” I told her with a light shrug.

“You’re being modest. My sources tell me you can break bones with your mind now.” Hearthwood protested. Her gray eyes were wide with interest, wondering, like everybody else, how strong my powers really were.

“Sure I can break anything from bones to steel, but I wish I could do more.” I confessed to her, not worried about her judging me for me controversial morals.

“What more is there?” She seemed honestly confused.

“This may sound crazy to you, since you’re on the right side of the law, but I want to be able to stop a heart with my mind.” I told her.

“What?!” Her eyes were literally bursting from her head, “Why would you want to?”

“Because I’m a cold-blooded killer.” I smiled almost sarcastically.

“Oh but Kairee, I remember when you were little – before you were a criminal – and you were the sweetest girl.” She reminisced with happiness.

“Yeah? Well that was before everything. Before I dropped out of school, began training, before my parents were separated. I was happy because life was simple. Now, I have changed along with life, and I’m really living.” I told Hearth.

“So running around killing and stealing is the good life?” She asked seriously.

“Yes, it is. I love my life, and this is what I want.” I said earnestly.

“Well, if you want to stop a heart, keep training. Lift larger and larger things, break stronger things,” She grinned tightly, “I know you can do whatever you want. And Kairee, I don’t want to see you under these circumstances again, so take these.” She said, reaching behind her and pulling over a large vat of blue gel, a tube of clear cream and a spray bottle of green liquid, “It’s some of the ingredients I use to heal people. The blue one compresses down, but the other two are small enough to carry around. The blue is the actual healing one – spread it on your wound and it’ll heal. The spray bottle is for smoothing your scars over, unless you keep your cool scars. The cream fixes bone fractures and breaks. I can’t do anything about bruises though; you’ll just have to let those heal. And, if the wound is
too
big, it will only heal underlying tears – muscles and bone, but it will leave a flesh wound. Any time you need more, just give me a call and I’ll send some to whatever planet you happen to be on. ”

I slipped the bottle into my purse after Hearthwood showed me how to compress the healing vat down to the size of the other two. I felt a rare sense of gratitude after receiving this gift I would actually use frequently, especially with the training I planned to do over the next few weeks on Salah.

Hearth gave me a wide grin and hugged me. In a rare moment, I hugged her back.

June 15
th
4:45 pm

The Auburn Estate, Dublin, Ireland

My mansion in Dublin is the best on Earth, second to none. Though this planet has some extreme limitations (i.e. its lack of various stones and metals), I’ve managed to build a formidable mansion, more modern than my usual taste. I was inspired when Rowan and I visited the Prime Minister’s house on Saize. My estate, of course, is much larger than the Prime Minister’s.

The property itself is several hundred acres; I had invested in so much land to avoid paparazzi, and there’s a huge crystalline lake, emerald forests, and a large, flowered field where we kept horses. There’s a team of hundreds of men and women working here around the clock to simply keep the place intact in my absence. Unlike the country-feeling land, the house – and I use the term loosely, as the place is larger than any other – is partly white plexiglass and the majority is half-silvered glass that allows us to look out, but no one can gaze in. My favorite feature of the place is the tall glass tower on the edge of the building, six stories high, where my room is located. Directly opposite, on the third floor, there’s a large wide deck where an Olympic-sized swimming pool sat, crystal-clear and glistening in the afternoon sun. The sparring area is on the top floor, covered by a blue glass and tile dome. I spend most of my time there, fighting with a few of the staff that have training as body guards and assassins.

“What do you think, Salah?” I asked when we pulled up a little ways from the mansion.

“Oh my god. Where don’t you have mansions?” He smiled at me, and I saw Rowan, out of the corner of my vision, roll his eyes.

“Rowan, don’t be a sourpuss, he’s just admiring how we have more money than he does.” I slyly glanced at Salah, trying to gauge his reaction.

“How do you know anything about my family’s financial situation?” Salah was utterly surprised by my extensive knowledge.

“You continue to underestimate me. I keep records on just about every criminal in this universe.” I explained.

“That reminds me: are you going to take me off of Earth? I’ve never been off my home planet.” Salah told me.

“You’ve never been off of Earth?” I asked, stunned, “Then how did you know about the Xeron?”

“My father was planning something to do with it, before he…” Salah trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“Before I killed him? You can say it. I have no problem working with my last accomplice’s son. I’ve been meaning to work with someone my age for a while, and you just happened to approach me first.” I shrugged and got out of the Bentley that had been waiting for us in Ireland, driven by one of the numerous servants I kept here. “Come on boys! We don’t have all day. I haven’t trained in days and I need to hurt someone!” I commanded, and Rowan was out of the car first.

“I’ve missed this place. It’s definitely my favorite mansion of ours,” Rowan smiled, slipping an arm around my waist.

“So, I need to destroy Salah in a fight soon, he told me back in Egypt that he could beat me. What do you think?” I solicited.

“I still think he’s too cocky to beat either of us,” my brother replied, looking over his shoulder and smiling at Salah, as if at some inside joke made between friends.

“I completely disagree.” Salah said, coming in step with us, “I think that I can beat both of you. Today.”

I stopped in my tracks, “You’re on. And I’m not going to go easy on you. The only thing I won’t do is stab you right through your tiny heart.” I narrowed my eyes and jabbed him in the chest with my finger, “I’m going to put you in your place.”

He smiled, “I look forward to it.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Rowan said, and to me, “Salah seems to think he can beat the both of us.”

“Oh?” I mocked Salah, “Listen. Rowan’s the only one who can trounce me, and you can’t even beat me in a fight.”

“You say that like it’s a small task to beat you.”

“It should be, if you really want to come on this mission.” I replied, stone-faced, “Boys, meet me in the sparring area in an hour and we can have a little fighting match.”

I stalked inside the house.

The walk to my room is long, as I don’t like elevators. Too quiet. If somebody was in the mansion, looking for me, I wouldn’t hear them unless they were running up stairs. The walk, though long, is beautiful, since all the walls are glass, and I was walking up a spiral staircase. The valley that the mansion was located in was so vibrant that each day when you looked out a window, there was a different view. Each day in Ireland brings new mystery in the landscape, each passing moment changing the world. Going higher and higher into the sky, I could finally see the lake a mile or so away. It was so perfect and clear today that I could not bear to look away until I had to. The mountains to the left were almost covering the sun on its descent to nighttime.

When I reached my room on the top floor, I was, as always, awestruck by it. The large circular room was full of sunlight. A large marbled fountain was directly across from the door, gallons of water flooding over marble slabs and stones. It was beautiful when the sun hit the water, creating a glistening rainbow of light across the room. The rest of the décor was themed around the fountain. My queen size bed was marble with white silk cover. The bureau, bedside tables, and mirror were all the matching cream marble. The carpet was pristine white and soft under my feet as I took off my shoes.

I placed the shoes I was wearing on a rack and walked to a door, one that I kept athletic clothes behind. I pulled out a custom tailored tank top in dark blue that shows off my surprising curves and a pair of white spandex biker shorts. I prefer sparring barefooted as opposed to with shoes on. I don’t know why. My mother always says it’s because when your feet are bare, all of your chakras are aligned so your strength is restored. Whatever.

Once I was dressed in my more comfortable outfit, all of my jewelry off, I walked back into my room and sat down at the glass desk, thinking. I opened a drawer, and pulled out a nanobug that hadn't yet been programmed and put in a piece of Mahar’s hair.

“Target acquired.” A voice rang from the small helicopter as it flew off. I suspect it will arrive in Cairo early tomorrow morning.

Next, I stretched.

Salah would regret ever underestimating me.

June 15
th
5:45 pm

The Auburn Estate.

“Stop gawking and choose your weapon.” I told Salah before we began sparring.

He picked up a medium-length sword, weighed it in his hand, and held it up.

“A sword? Really? You just set yourself up for a loss.” I smiled, walking over to the rack. I hefted my favorite sword, at least my favorite that I keep here, and looked at it. Black metal, thick hilt. Most importantly, the blade was longer than Salah’s. One basic rule of swordsmanship: the opponent with a longer blade has the upper hand. I now have the advantage of my skill and my sword.