by J A Heaton
Daniel winced. The suggestion, now coming from Jenny, hurt. But Jenny didn’t back down.
“You talked to my mom about this?” Daniel said.
“And I’m not going to apologize for telling you to move on,” Jenny said without answering the question. “That’s what friends do. They tell you the hard truths.”
Wanting to escape the awkward conversation, Daniel said, “Here’s something that’s depressing. The animal shelter won’t let me have a puppy. They say I’m not at home enough to give it the companionship it needs. I don’t think they believed me when I said I have since moved in with my mom. She’s around plenty.”
“That’s nonsense,” Jenny said. “Let’s have me adopt the puppy, and then I’ll give it to you. If they ask, I’m around all the time, without a job and all. They would have to let me take the puppy.”
“They do home visits and stuff,” Daniel objected. “Besides, your plan seems a little shady.”
“My place is perfect for a puppy, now that I think about it. Besides, since when does being shady bother you? You work for the CIA.”
“In a cubicle writing reports. I don’t exactly get my hands dirty.”
“Well let’s get out of here and watch a movie. My coffee’s gone.”
“I’ll pay for the rental,” Daniel offered.
“Thanks, moneybags. But I think we should watch that old one we haven’t seen in a while. The one you got me for Christmas a few years back.”
“I know the one,” Daniel said. “Sounds good to me.”
“Some things here don’t react so well to bullets,” Jenny intoned with her best Sean Connery imitation.
“I love that movie,” Daniel said.
“But you have to promise me you will go out with another girl on a real date by the end of the month. Or I’m going to tell your mom about this.”
“Even if I continue to buy you coffee?” Daniel said, only half-joking. He relented when Jenny returned a hard glare. “Okay, by the end of the month,” Daniel agreed.
Jenny continued her glare for another second before she got up and hefted her beige CPU from the ground and walked towards the door with Daniel behind her.
“You really haven’t met any guys?” Daniel asked, deciding to turn the tables on Jenny as they walked to her apartment. His bicycle clicked along beside them as they went, and Jenny cradled her CPU in her arms. They were almost at Jenny’s apartment building.
“You know computer guys,” she said. “They freeze when they meet a girl who’s interested in computers.”
“And better at computers than they are,” Daniel joked as he walked with his bicycle.
“That too.”
For a few moments, Daniel felt like he was back in college, before he had to leave the military and before he went to Afghanistan. He felt like he was going to watch a movie with a college buddy, something he had loved doing years ago.
“Hypothetically,” Jenny said as they stopped at a fountain in front of the apartment building, “would you be okay if I introduced you to a girl I thought could be a good match for you?” She said it nonchalantly as she set down her CPU while glancing at the fountain, now empty due to the cold weather.
Before Daniel could say anything, Jenny started into him.
“Come on, Daniel,” she insisted. “I know you don’t like me playing matchmaker, but I’m not kidding. You’ve got to move on from that girl from over there.”
But Daniel didn’t put up the resistance he had in the past.
“Both you and my mom can’t be wrong,” Daniel said. “I’m going to have to move on.”
They both paused and looked at each other.
“You sure?” Jenny asked. “So I can introduce you to somebody without you lecturing me about meddling?”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “Yes,” he said again, just to make sure he heard himself properly. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got an idea.”
Jenny gave Daniel a quizzical look.
Daniel pulled a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it into the cold January air. It clinked into the empty fountain.
“I wished we would both find somebody special,” Daniel explained.
Jenny let out a squeal and gave Daniel a quick hug before picking up her CPU and leading him into her apartment building and up the stairs.
When they approached her door, Jenny asked, “How does it feel?”
“Feel?”
“Yes, caveman. How does it feel? Do you feel lighter? Ready to reel in the catch of the century?”
“I guess I feel lighter,” Daniel replied. “Yes, I’m up for meeting somebody new.”
“I will get started on that soon,” Jenny said as she set down her CPU and went for her keys.
But Daniel sensed something that made him uneasy, and it wasn’t Jenny’s influence on his love life.
The apartment hallway seemed unnaturally quiet in a way Daniel couldn’t explain. As she fumbled for her key, Daniel noticed the doormat had more scuffs than was usual, including some grass that had been tracked in. Knowing that Jenny was the only one who ever came and went from her apartment, other than him on movie night, Daniel’s suspicions became too strong.
He placed his hand on hers to stop her jangling keys as his other hand reached for where he would have been carrying his gun if he had followed his dad’s advice. But he almost never did, and so there was no gun.
“We need to get out of here and call the police,” Daniel said quietly.
To his horror, Jenny playfully pushed him aside, and with a giggle and a, “Whatever,” she unlocked her door with one smooth motion and stepped into her dark apartment.
Daniel lunged in to pull her out.
All the lights in the apartment came on at once, and a chorus of voices yelled out: “Surprise!”
Daniel raised his hands defensively for a second and then realized Jenny had lured him into a surprise party.
“Chrissake!” Daniel said as he felt the adrenaline drain out of him. The feeling of embarrassment replaced that of shock.
“What’s this for?” Daniel said as he turned to Jenny. She embraced him in a friendly hug and explained: “This is a party to celebrate getting your Ph.D. And there’s somebody here I want you to meet.”
Daniel felt his face go pale. Not only did he hate surprise parties more than Jenny playing matchmaker, but he also didn’t need to be reminded that he had not, in fact, finished his thesis and gotten his Ph.D. yet. He dumbly shook hands with people and took a sip from the beer they handed him while calculating how long he would have to stay before he could leave without offending Jenny. He wished he could watch a movie with an old friend and wait at least one more day before meeting somebody new.
Daniel already hated surprise parties of any sort for himself, be he especially hated everybody calling him “Doctor,” and congratulating him when he hadn’t finished his dissertation as he had expected.
He soon discovered Jenny had other plans for this party other than celebrating his not-yet-real Ph.D.
“Go talk to her,” Jenny said, pushing Daniel towards a woman with dark hair about his age. “She’s a runner too,” Jenny said as she walked off.
Daniel could tell the woman was fit after one glance. He resisted the temptation to later complain to Jenny about trying to hook him up. Daniel reminded himself he was moving on, even if Jenny had planned this before Daniel had said so. He imagined Jenny and his mother plotting together to find him somebody to get him past “that girl from over there.”
But it wasn’t the woman’s fault, so Daniel tried the best he could despite the awkward situation.
Daniel didn’t catch her name over the loud music and laughter as she extended a hand with perfect nails. The other hand held her margarita.
“Jenny said she told you about me,” the woman said. “Nothing bad, I hope.” Daniel was too embarrassed to ask her to repeat her name.
“Jenny told me about you?” Daniel fumbled. “Oh, right. Of course she did. Sorry, I’m so surpr
ised by all of this. Of course she told me about you.” Internally, Daniel struggled to recall what Jenny might have said. He had always stopped listening whenever Jenny talked about women she had met for him.
“I’ve seen you running, too,” she said. “You’re no slowpoke.”
“Really? Thanks,” Daniel said. He couldn’t honestly say he had seen her running. He said the best thing he could think of. “When I run, I’m in my own little escape world, so I’m pretty clueless about what’s going on around me.” He hoped it was an acceptable apology for not noticing her while running.
“I understand. I used to run with my dad, so it’s my way to get away too before the busy day begins.”
“You ran with your dad?” Daniel asked. Daniel’s father had always made him run alone for training. Never together.
“He was a cop and hated that fat-cop-and-donuts stereotype, so we always ran together,” she explained. “I think that’s why I’ve wanted to work for the FBI.”
Daniel nearly spit out his beer.
“FBI?”
“What? A girl can’t pack?”
“Not at all, I just thought you…”
But Daniel already knew his foot was too far in his mouth, and he couldn’t say she was too pretty to work for the FBI. Or any government agency, for that matter.
“If you don’t believe me, I’ll kick your ass right now.”
Daniel hesitated, unsure if she was serious.
Her smile told him she wasn’t.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said.
Happy to have backed out of the disastrous conversation, Daniel gave his usual song and dance about his job.
“Linguistics, translating stuff that is ninety-nine-point-nine percent tame, all in hopes we’ll find the needle in the haystack that will stop the next terror attack.”
Instead of the confused look he normally received, she instead lit up and asked: “You help catch terrorists and spies?” Daniel was unsure if it was a statement or a question. Before he could respond, she said, “I like that. I wouldn’t have guessed a guy like you could do that.”
“Okay, honestly,” Daniel said, “this is all incredibly awkward for me. I’m really glad I got to know you, but there’s something I’ve got to tell you. Tell everybody here, really.”
Daniel stood on top of Jenny’s coffee table, afraid the particleboard furniture might collapse, and called for everybody’s attention.
A hush came over the party, and the music volume was turned down.
“Thank you all for coming, but I can’t hold back the truth. And the truth is, I’m not, technically, done with my dissertation yet, and so I’m no doctor. I mostly sit in a cubicle and fetch coffee. Sorry, just had to get that off my chest.”
Most of the people at the party had already drunk too much to understand what Daniel had said. One such party-goer yelled, “Bilbo!”
Daniel wished he could disappear, but instead stepped down from the coffee table. The music went back up, and the party continued.
“You are such the honest boy scout,” the woman said. “And an anti-terrorist. I like that mix.” She looked at him as she took another drink from her margarita. “I’ll still call you doctor.”
“You shouldn’t,” Daniel pleaded, embarrassed even more that he hadn’t finished his Ph.D. yet. “And, by the way, I ride a bicycle instead of a motorcycle. And I moved back in with my mom.”
Instead of giving a look of disappointment, the woman’s eyes went to the apartment door behind Daniel. She stiffened slightly.
Daniel turned and saw two men in dark suits standing at the open door.
“Doctor Knox,” one of them called out over the noise as he scanned the room. “You must come with us immediately. There’s a situation, and your presence is required.”
Before Daniel knew what was happening, two men in dark suits stood in front of him. One took Daniel’s elbow to lead him out of the apartment.
“You got some ID?” Daniel demanded after one hesitant step.
Both men gave Daniel a glare as if to say, “You serious?”
“Don’t keep Officer Carter waiting,” one of them said.
Daniel dragged his feet but allowed them to continue pulling him towards the door.
“I’m not a doctor, yet, by the way,” Daniel said weakly as the two men hustled him out the door.
The party continued without Daniel.
5
The men in the vehicle with Daniel had been silent. They wouldn’t answer any questions, even though Daniel knew they wouldn’t know anything. He couldn’t figure out what could have been so urgent.
Has an Uzbek-speaker carried out a terrorist act on American soil? Daniel wondered to himself.
Officer Carter was waiting for him as the car pulled up to a building Daniel had never been in but recognized. He couldn’t recall its name, but it was the building in D.C. where people way above his contractor pay-grade made major decisions. Daniel hoped Officer Carter would be able to give some answers.
“What the hell is going on?” Daniel asked as he followed Carter hurriedly into the building.
“There’s been a development,” Officer Carter explained as she turned to walk down the hallway. Daniel instinctively followed. Armed men hardly noted their presence.
“The briefing will include a man named Peters. He’s the real decision-maker behind the President’s National Security Adviser, and he has the President’s ear. Others in the meeting will include some military brass and Command from Afghanistan will be beaming in,” Officer Carter went on to explain. “I never thought you were important enough to have a beeper. I guess I was wrong.”
“So, what am I here for?” Daniel struggled to keep up as they rushed down the hallway.
“Sign here,” she said, pointing to a paper by the guard at the doorway. “You have clearance now. You’re giving the briefing on that murder victim in Berlin.”
“Me?”
Officer Carter turned abruptly to Daniel. “All I know is that there’s been a development in Berlin. When people of this rank call the meeting and request our presence, we need to be ready to answer their questions. Tell them what you can about the murder victim, give the best estimations you’ve got—nobody knows his culture better than you—and then it will be up to them to decide.”
“What happened in Berlin?” Daniel asked.
“Not even I know that,” Officer Carter said as she paused outside the briefing room. “You and I both know that the work you and all your translating gophers do is important to the War on Terror. This is your chance to prove it.”
For the first time since he had done linguistic research in Afghanistan several years prior, Daniel felt he was in the right place at the right time. Whatever had happened in Berlin, Daniel was confident his suspicions about Rustam were paying off. Daniel hoped he had begun to uncover the elusive .01% of intelligence that was going to make a difference. Daniel felt he was about to make a major contribution to the War on Terror by giving the decision-makers in the briefing room all the information they would need to save innocent lives. He sat down in one of the chairs outside the conference room, waiting for his summons and pondered the case’s details.
Daniel ran through all that he knew about the murdered Uzbek in Berlin. He recalled his photograph and thought through how he would characterize the man to important people.
But he couldn’t figure out why they cared so much. Had they learned something about what he had wanted to give to the West during the Cold War? Had they discovered a motive behind his murder?
Recalling the poetry, Daniel began to flip through the briefing packet, and then he found what he was looking for in the supporting documentation: the Stasi file with the poetry. Reading it again, he didn’t feel it was code, but it felt like the man was trying to say more. He had something inside of him that was bursting to get out. Parts of the poetry seemed somehow familiar to Daniel, but he wondered if he was just going paranoid, trying to find something when there wasn�
��t anything there.
The wait outside the conference room dragged on longer than Daniel expected, but he loved the Uzbek poetry. His mind drifted to the best time of his life. The year he had lived in the Uzbek village in Northern Afghanistan. The family he lived with came back to his mind. The son in his host family, Oybek, had become like a brother to him. He smiled as he remembered all the hours Oybek took to patiently explain how and why he said things the way he did in Uzbek. It got even more confusing when he tried to explain how it was different from even nearby villages, especially the one they had a feud with.
Daniel chuckled to himself when he recalled Oybek trying to teach Daniel how to shoot a gun. To Oybek’s surprise, Daniel already knew how.
“You know books, but you know guns too?” Oybek had asked in shock.
“I learned books, and my father was good with guns,” Daniel had said, which was true. Daniel wasn’t excited about guns, but he knew the reality that all men in Afghanistan had to be able to handle a gun. After the Soviet-Afghan war from 1979 until 1989, lawlessness had reigned, and the Taliban had only hurt matters after the Soviets left in 1989. Although neither his host father, Bobo, nor Oybek in Afghanistan, had ever taken up the fight, Daniel knew that both of them always slept with a pistol under his pillow.
Recalling his Afghan host family inevitably brought back the memory of Nigora. He hadn’t seen her many times up close, but he was entranced each time. She was the “girl over there” he couldn’t get over.
At the time, in 1996, the girl was about sixteen years old, and Daniel learned that it wouldn’t be unusual for her to get married. Or, rather, it wouldn’t be unusual for her father to marry her off.
“So why hasn’t he married her off?” Daniel asked Oybek.
“He says we need a woman around to help in the house,” Oybek answered. “But we could have a niece to help until I get married. He really doesn’t want to part with her. Giving her away to another family would hurt him too much. Since my mother passed, he has treasured my sister even more. I think she reminds him of my mother.”