The Predator
Chapter I
THEY CAME THROUGH THE REVOLVING DOORS, knowing they had only a few moments to relax and enjoy the sun centered high in the sky. Clusters of workers filling the vistas, blending and congregating, all escaping from their perches from within the glass menageries; now only interested in the fair offered at the assembly of kiosks waiting with sizzling entrées.
High from above he looked down into the crowds scattered and scurried along the street; reminding Kayn of worker ants busy and all absorbing in their quest. As mirrored in his own life, Kayn stood confidently behind reflective glass from the 50th floor wondering how many of those ants are within his match. The exterior blueprint of this great structure was designed to be welcoming and unpretentious in its power. The architects had been successful with their mandate, to eclipse the immeasurable footprint of fifty-two stories of immeasurable plate glass, framed in hammered copper, successful in reflecting only the beauty of the long weaving tree lined vistas crowned by the imposing skyline.
Kayn, with no further authority required, placed an X on the blue prints where his office was to be located. A vision of boundless landscape, presenting authority and domination; traits he was confident living through. He would occupy the 50th floor, as well as a loft area off the 49th floor, designed as his conference room and much more.
Arriving in the City years before, lacking education yet sheathed in confidence and personality, Kayn set his agenda and knew his targets. After researching long term prospects, he took a job as a clerk at a small bank and within a short while had managed to secure his footing with the President, who was from a formidable family residing in the District for several generations. He surrounded himself with as many influential people as possible. At night, in the silence of his small boarding room, he mimicked the mannerisms witnessed each day through his reflection in the mirror. After a year of forging his front he had successfully positioned himself to travel in the clique of the inner core, attending family gatherings, summer parties, successfully resulting in his marriage to the family’s eldest daughter and opened the door for his placement as a Vice President at the Bank. Within a short while his family had grown to include four children. His wife prideful in duplicating her own upbringing and without disappointment to him, raising the girls in her image of a picture perfect homemaker and the boys to respect from afar, their father.
Decedents from England Kayn’s parents had arrived in the foothills of the Rockies at the turn of the century. His grandfather, an English Baron, sent his youngest son to the Americas, with orders not to return to England; accompanied by his wife and nothing more than the family coat of arms and a commitment to a monthly living allowance. They soon became a dominant force in the cattle industry, purchasing primary quantities of lands throughout the foothills. Begrudged by the locals for the pretentious English lifestyle that Kayn’s mother rallied to perpetuate, they remained isolated deep in the foothills. Kayn, together with his two older brothers busied themselves on the farm, under the daily dictatorship and brutality of their father. Kayn was taught at an early age the principals of deceit and deception. When he turned 16, his father told him that he would inherit sections of the family land, though not suitable for sustained ranching or grazing, yet he was charged with its care. His older brothers would accept the titles of the many hundreds of sections of rich viable lands. Kayn had always been an embarrassment to his father; since birth always favoring his mother’s heritage of English refinement. He had no interest in living amongst livestock for the remainder of his life. He preferred to travel with his Mother on her trips to the local Hamlets for supplies. There he would listen to the stories of the other English remittance families and learn of their lifestyles, including private boarding schools, polo and cricket matches and the Sunday hunts; an upper class society that Kayn vowed he would be part of.
He successfully built a library, from A to Z, on each and everyone as he passed through the tiers of the Bank always remembering the importance of each person, regardless of the location of their perch. Time allowed him to become a master in immaculate endings; as a manipulative chess player his victory was not set out to be fleeting, his traps hidden, yet all in clear view. His opponent, never knowing the match was underway, until check mate was called; his game ended with less humanity than the ease of being swallowed by quicksand.
Losing is not a badge he accepts under any circumstance; compromise was another handicap he would not entertain, yet when life took control, regardless of his wealth and the multitude of dedications he challenged the Specialists with, time was taken from his wife, ending a ten year battle to a hideous and undefeatable cancer. He was respectful and astute in greeting all those who came to her service. Of course, Kayn had ensured prior to their children arriving at her bed side and her comas, all family interests together with her 49% stock share in the Bank had all been placed in his name.
Within a month of the funeral and the children all returning to their lives and families scattered along each coast, Kayn sold the family estate. Over the last months, if not at the hospice with his wife, or at work, he was viewing riverfront Penthouses preparing for his future life. He had selected a gated community close, but not obvious to his latest acquisition, an attractive widow who had been offering him comfort and support over the last months of his wife’s life.
He was comfortable blending into the surroundings of his new home. He had befriended many of the personnel in the community, stopping each day to chat and listen; always establishing their capacities for a position on his chess board. He acknowledged as his neighbors pass through the lobby finding time to only acquiesce those around them, considered as nothing more than the hired employees. Kayn on the other hand waited patiently for their stories, the stories behind the impenetrable fortress; they all held chapters, bits and pieces that he would learn.
This day he carried onto the mailroom greeting a neighbor, a successful real estate broker, who he had done business with on many previous occasions. A well known family to the community, known to be blessed in both family and profession. Yet Kayn was aware of the repeated visits by his wife to the battered women shelters, her cocaine habit resulting in several visits to various centers throughout the country. He knew, while she was away, of the never ending parade of women that would again pass through the lobby. He also knew of the occasion when a rather forceful young lady, deciding to confront his wife with their affair and so determined she had successfully found her way into the locked fortress by taking refuse in the trunk of a cleaning ladies car, then moving undetected up the stairwells; until by chance, a passing maintenance man, long dedicated to the family and their gifts, identified her and called the police. The security breach was written up in the newsletter as nothing more than an unknown intruder.
But of course this was not the time or place to move his positions on the chess board; after exchanging pleasantries they each turned and went their appropriate ways; one to the mother of his six children waiting to greet her husband after 28 years of marriage; the other to his waiting lady friend who, unbeknownst to Kayn, had spend most of her day under the acute watchful eyes of her own children questioning their mothers recent acquaintance.
For a few minutes of each day Kayn found this modest community entertaining and amusing but always looked forward to returning to the 50th floor.
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