Coming Home (Closed for Drewk570)

[AlwaysFaithful]

Katherine Doyle stood at the airport. She was dressed properly, a black pants suit, a white button up shirt beneath her open suit jacket. What couldn't be seen was the white Kevlar vest beneath the shirt, and a gun tucked under her jacket at the small of her back. Her long mahogany hair was tied back in a sharp tail, her nearly colorless grey eyes scanned the quiet, private airport as she waited for her client to arrive. She was 5'6" an athletic 120 pounds and didn't appear to be a threat to anyone. Though she has served six years in the military before moving on to private security. She had four black belts, and was an excellent marksman. She was 28 and had been the head of this family's security, for the last four months, since her predecessor unexpectedly died.

Now she was waiting for the oldest son, to decide to show up, so she could escort him back to the family's estate. She had never had much interaction with the eldest son, yet she knew all there was to know about him, seeing as she'd read his file, talked to the rest of her team, it was her job to know everything there was to know about him. She waited patiently, in the soldier resting position, feet, a little less than shoulder width apart, her hands resting behind her back, right hand gripping her left wrist. She looked entirely comfortable, as if she could stand there for hours. Her eyes travelled around the small airport, there wasn't much going on, as it was a private airport, meant only for those rich enough to own their own plane. She appreciated the quietness, it meant less security measures, and logistics of managing a busy airport. While there wasn't often serious threats against the family, it did happen occasionally, and Kat was always careful when in public with any of the family.

 

[Drewk570]

“Mr. Quinn,” a dark haired flight attendant whispered pleasantly into the ear of her sleeping passenger. He didn’t respond. She glanced around the cabin of the sleek executive jet to make sure no other crew member was present. She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to his ear. “Owen, time to wake up.” Still he didn’t move.
“C’mon sleepy head,” she said as she tickled his neck with one long maroon painted finger nail.
He twitched and reluctantly cracked his eyes open. “What are you doing, Ash?” he said in hoarse, dry voice.
“We’re landing soon. Wanted to give you a chance to freshen up,” she said as she stood up.
He released the seatbelt buckle, stood and stretched. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
“Always happy to be of service, Mr. Quinn,” she said with a smile and a barely perceptible wink as she turned and walked towards the cockpit.
He watched as Ashley disappeared into the forward galley before turning and heading to the restroom in the back of the plane.

Owen started at himself in the mirror. He was unshaven, his wavy brown hair tousled and his button down Brooks Brothers shirt wrinkled and disheveled. “What a mess,” he muttered to himself. He splashed water on his face and rinsed his mouth with a travel sized container of mouth wash, sharp mint flavor replacing the stale sticky taste of Irish Whisky. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be returning to the family estate he was looking forward to a long hot shower. He toweled himself off and returned to his seat for landing.

Within minutes they were on the ground and taxing towards the gate. Owen glanced out the window. The landscape looked hot, hazy and brown and he pulled the shade closed. His heart wasn’t here. Despite the dark times he faced in Paris; the accident, the accusations and the police inquiry, France still felt more like home than the large residence with his scheming siblings and overbearing mother.

Ashley reappeared from the galley. “Comfortable flight, Mr Quinn?” She asked.
“Yes, of course, you always do a fantastic job.”
Ashley beamed and batted her eyes at Owen. Behind her the pilot emerged from the cockpit. “We’re all set, Mr. Quinn.”
“Thanks Thomas,” Owen said in a very business like tone as he stood and shook the pilot’s hand.
“Say hi to your mom for me and my condolences about your dad,” Thomas said softly.
Owen nodded and headed out the cabin door onto the ramp to the terminal. It only then occurred to him then that he wasn’t sure who was going to be there to pick him up. His mother had said she was sending someone but don’t mention who.

 

[AlwaysFaithful]

Katherine saw Owen Quinn and walked over. "Mr. Quinn. I am Lieutenant Doyle, the head of your security." She said, introducing herself him, her voice was a unique mix, it had a faint western drawl, with a whisper of Irish. She doubted he would remember her, and did not expect him to. "I have been assigned to escort you back to your estate." She said, as she shifted her stance, automatically, looking at their surroundings. "The truck is parked right out front." Katherine led him outside, walking just half a step behind him, this insured she could see what was in front of him, as well as both sides, it also made it easy to block from behind if necessary. Directing him to the black SUV that was parked in one of the first slots, she waited until he was inside before she walked around and slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine. "Do you need to stop anywhere before returning home?" She asked.

 

[Drewk570]

Owen stared out the window and thought for a moment as Katherine pulled the SUV into the flow of airport traffic. He wanted that shower and some fresh clothes but had another stop in mind first. “Yes.” He stated plainly. Owen fumbled in his pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He did an online search and pulled up the address of the cemetery where his father had been buried. “Please take me here,” he said handing the phone to Katherine. She simply glanced at the phone, nodded and handed it back to Owen.

The rest of the ride was in silence. Owen watched the world slip by behind the shade of tinted windows. He marveled at the wide streets and shopping plazas. So much had changed since he’d last been here. Suburbia. Such a big difference from the narrow cobble stone streets and intimate sidewalk cafes that he had grown accustomed to.

Minutes later they were pulling into the cemetery. “You’ll need to go towards the back.” Owen said.
“I’m familiar with your family plot,” Katherine replied.
She probably knows it better than I do, Owen thought. And sure enough, within seconds Katherine had pulled the SUV to a stop just yards away from his father’s grave.

Before Owen could slide across the seat and figure out the door handle Katherine had already jumped out the drivers’s side, whipped around the car and opened the door for Owen.
“Thanks,” he said. “I just need a minute.”

Owen kneeled by his father’s grave for the first time.
MARTIN J. QUINN it read, etched handsomely in the gray shiny stone.
1960-2016
BELOVED FATHER AND HUSBAND

He was surprised at the mixed bag of emotions that he felt; anger, frustration, confusion but mostly sadness. He had been close to his father and the loss hit him hard. Not just the loss but the circumstances of this father’s death also clouded his emotions. The accident, the mysterious missing female passenger that witnesses say ran from the car after it crashed, the police report that claimed that the car had been tampered with which caused the accident, the fact that Owen had been a suspect and detained in France which caused him to miss his father’s funeral, it all came at him in a rush. He felt dizzy and then the whole world went black.