Edge of Tomorrow

by Wolf Wootan

  “I couldn’t get to sleep this early. I’ll be sorry tomorrow, I know. I had a warm drink earlier, but so far it hasn’t helped. I was thinking of having another, but I didn’t want to mess with Janet’s galley,” she said.

  “I know where everything is. What were you drinking? I’ll join you, if it doesn’t disturb you.”

  “I’d like the company. I had a hot buttered rum, and it was delicious. Warmed me through and through.”

  Hot rum? More déjà vu! Kat’s favorite drink!

  “I’ll be right back. That’s one of my specialties,” he said.

  He went to the galley and began preparing the drinks.

  When his leg touched mine, it was like electricity! I may never get to sleep now. My heart’s pounding loud enough to hear! At least these surroundings will save me from myself. I definitely must behave! she thought as she tried to control her breathing.

  He handed her a drink, and sat back down next to her. They clinked glasses and tasted their drinks cautiously, since they were steaming hot.

  “Did I fix it OK?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” she replied.

  “If you want to go back to your book, I’ll return to my seat to drink this.”

  “No, please don’t go. I wish we didn’t have to whisper. Do you want to move to the lounge? You don’t look too comfortable,” she said, not really wanting him to move.

  “I’m fine here, if you are. I’m enjoying the intimacy,” he replied with a smile. “What are you reading?”

  “Tom Clancy’s latest techno-thriller. I used to think some of his stuff was fairly far-fetched, but now that I have met you and some of your toys, I would say he needs to expand his imagination if he wants to approach reality,” she giggled quietly.

  She laid the book down and switched her drink to her left hand and rested her right arm on his knee.

  “Did you ever read his book called The Hunt for Red October?” he asked.

  “No, but I saw the movie on television. It was about a Russian submarine and the CIA wasn’t it?”

  “That, and more. It was published in October of 1984, and really reflected many of the Reagan-era themes at that time. That was the glory days of the CIA as the public likes to think of them: emphasis on national security; the Soviets were the Evil Empire; covert operations were the norm, not the exception. The Era of Confrontation, not negotiations. Things were actually more intense and sinister than the book portrayed. Did you ever think about how the timing of events affect your life?” said Hatch.

  You’re telling me! What if you hadn’t gone to The Blue Grotto for lunch instead of Lou’s Crab House? What if the hit men had attacked me a day later? Or sooner? I would never have met you, or I might be dead! Is that what you are thinking? she thought.

  “Yes, occasionally.”

  Hatch was thinking of something different from what she was, however.

  “In 1981, I was a Threat Assessment Analyst at a desk in Langley. No covert ops or scary things to make waves in my life. If Reagan hadn’t been elected President, I might still be there. The strong emphasis on covert operations to curb the ‘Evil Empire’ redirected my career. Without that change, I would never have met Kat, never have started Triple Eye, never have been at The Blue Grotto yesterday—and, of course, never have met you.”

  “I’m flattered to be on the list of major events in your life.”

  He paused, took a sip of his hot rum drink, and looked into her eyes.

  When he didn’t say anything, she chortled, “So you blame President Reagan for making you a billionaire?”

  He laughed, “Actually, yes. Without his policies toward the USSR, I would never have become a NOC assassin, and everything else in my life has flowed from there.”

  “I agree that sometimes events beyond one’s control can change a person’s life. For example, in my case, my parents’ murder. But I don’t believe that it is preordained by fate—some master plan chipped in stone somewhere. I believe we shape our lives mostly by the decisions we make. We nearly always have a choice. I could have gone back to Harvard. You could have said no to becoming an assassin. How do you explain meeting Kat and falling in love? A man who—by your own admission—had a heart of stone,” she asked seriously.

  He thought for a while, and absently laid his hand on her arm which was resting on his leg, and began stroking it gently.

  “I don’t know if I can. However, I had never been stationed in West Berlin for R & R before. I normally just passed through now and then. I had just finished a month in Moscow with the most stressful type of cover—I had posed as a KGB Colonel. It is so easy to screw up when you are trying to be one of them. I found out later why they chose West Berlin for my R & R, instead of somewhere out of Europe. In October of 1983, the U.S. Embassy in Beirut was blown up by terrorists, killing 241 Marines. Also killed was the CIA’s Director of Near Eastern and South Asian Analysis. You probably remember that,” related Hatch.

  “Barely. I remember everyone was wondering what the U. S. response would be. Remember, though, I was only fifteen years old and in high school,” she laughed.

  “God, that makes me feel old! I hope you have nothing against dating older men. You still owe me a second date!” he chortled. “At least, I can remember the incident, so I’m not senile yet!”

  She patted his leg and said, “I’m looking forward to our second date, unless you feel like you’re robbing the cradle! Ha! Ha! Just remember, everything is relative, and I’m no longer a teeny-bopper. So far, I feel that we are very compatible, unless you turn out to really be a dirty old man. Now, tell me what the bombing in Beirut had to do with you going to West Berlin.”

  “Well, like you mentioned, the U. S. had to formulate a response. Also, a month earlier, the Korean airliner KAL007, with 269 aboard, including 61 Americans, was shot down—these are Reagan’s words—‘by the Evil Empire.’ While President Reagan was formulating overt policy actions, the covert ones were already unleashed. The Company was ordered to hit the enemy hard covertly, with full deniability. My part in that covert punishment was Karl Steiner, the leading Stasi hit man in Europe, who was being sent into West Berlin to kill the American Ambassador. So, that was why I was in West Berlin; normally, I would have been elsewhere, and never had a chance to meet Kat,” explained Hatch.

  “Did the hit man come as expected?”

  “Oh, yes. That was his last mission.”

  “So, again, Reagan’s covert policies put you in the place where you met Kat,” opined Syd.

  “You could say that, yes. However, I don’t know that any of this has any deep philosophical meanings, but it’s been fun discussing it with you. I normally don’t have this sort of discussion with anyone,” he answered, stroking her arm absently. “You’re so easy to talk to.”

  She sipped her drink without saying anything right away, just enjoying his presence, and the warmth of his thigh against hers, his hand on her arm.

  If we were in a snowed-in mountain cabin in front of a roaring fire, this evening could actually lead to something. I guess I have to wait for Hatch’s Fate God to act in the future and put us together at the right place and time, if anything is meant to be between us. This is certainly not the right time or place.

  “I like talking with you, too, Hatch. I really enjoyed our lunch today, also. With what’s scheduled, I guess it will be a while before we can have our second date,” she smiled.

  “Maybe we can find some time in Istanbul. I don’t want to rush the planning of the mission. It may take a day or two.”

  “I’ve never been there. It must be exotic—and romantic!”

  “Maybe you can do the Dance of the Seven Veils for me,” he leered.

  “You make me blush, sir! I don’t think I have the talent for that,” she said, trying to look coy.

  “You definitely have the body for it! I’ll teach you to dance!”

  “I think I’ll change the subject! You’re making me self-conscious. Do you still play the piano and sing
, like you did with Kat?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. We’re on a ‘share your feelings’ kick, remember? Yes, I still play and sing when I get a chance. It’s what keeps me sane. I’m writing my own Broadway musical—that is, when I have time. If I ever finish it, I guarantee it will be produced! Even if I have to buy my own theater! I have enough money to do that! I need a female lead. Do you sing?”

  “You are full of surprises! A multi-talented man if I ever met one. I don’t have enough fingers to count them all! I’d like you to play and sing some of it for me when we get a chance. And I have a surprise for you! I do sing! I love to sing! I started in high school drama classes, then at UCLA. I took voice lessons in my teens. I helped produce some musicals at Harvard, just to keep my hand in,” she bubbled.

  “You’re amazing! Talk about multi-talented! We’ll have to sing together next time we’re near a piano. I have a great music room back at Klaus Haus. That’s where I usually spend time alone, winding down. When I’m there, that is.”

  “I don’t know how you do it all! When do you find the time to run all of your companies?” Syd asked.

  “I’m very fortunate to have found some very great CEOs and management teams. The companies need very little of my attention any more. I meet with the CEOs twice a year. I’m always available by satellite phone—the Blue Phone. I keep an eye on the figures by computer. I structured things that way so I would have time for LRD. That’s where I spend most of my time. And doing things like this, of course,” he replied, waving his hand in a swath.

  “I’ve kept you up long enough. Why don’t you go back and get some sleep? I’m going to have another of these drinks if you’ll show me where the fixings are,” she said.

  “I’m not the least bit tired now. You’ve stimulated me. I’ll fix us another drink. After all, it is only nine o’clock.”

  He got up and went to the bar in the galley and began fixing two more drinks. Syd got up and shook her right leg. It was going to sleep because she had not changed positions for a half-hour. It began to tingle as the circulation returned. She walked over and stood next to Hatch and watched him prepare the drinks. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms under her breasts, lifting them a bit.

  “My leg was going to sleep. I thought I would shake it out,” she explained.

  “You might be more comfortable if we sat here in the lounge for these drinks,” he said.

  “I kind of liked it the way we were,” she whispered.

  He looked sideways at her, and she met his gaze.

  “So did I,” he said.

  Chapter 17

  Gulf Stream V, 45,000 Feet

  Friday, August 3, 2001

  11:05 A.M.

  Syd awakened when she heard Janet start coffee in the galley. She checked her watch as she sat up and looked toward the rear of the aircraft. Everyone was still asleep, including one of the pilots. She waved at Janet, who waved back, and grabbed her duffel and went to the restroom. She stripped off her sweats and panties and used a wash cloth to clean up as best she could. She brushed her teeth and put on clean panties and bra. She applied her makeup, and dressed in black pants and a dark green linen blouse. She brushed out her hair, grabbed her duffel bag, and returned to the lounge.

  “Hi, Janet. That coffee smells good!” she whispered.

  “Good morning! No need to whisper. It’s time to wake up Hatch and Sara. We’re landing in about forty-five minutes. Pour yourself some coffee. I’ll go roust ’em out,” she smiled, heading for the rear of the cabin.

  Syd poured herself a mug of steaming, black coffee and sat down in the lounge. She watched as Janet roused Sara and Hatch. They got up and headed for the restrooms. Syd saw that the two prisoners were stirring, finally.

  • • •

  “That was delicious, Janet,” commented Syd as Janet cleared the table. Janet had served a Continental breakfast of sweet rolls, a choice of juices, and lots of hot coffee.

  “Yes, it was,” agreed Hatch and Sara in unison.

  At that point, the pilot’s voice was heard on the loud speaker.

  “Buckle up, folks. I’m turning onto the final approach.”

  They all found a seat and buckled their seat belts. The aircraft touched the runway like a gentle kiss. Following instructions from the tower, the pilot taxied to the far limits of the airport and shut down the engines in front of a large hangar with its huge door open. An airport tractor hooked up to the nose wheel and dragged the jet inside the hangar.

  “Now, no prying eyes can see Uri take custody of our guests,” explained Hatch to the others.

  As the pilots exited from the cockpit door, Janet opened the passenger door. A stocky, brown-haired man was standing near the door. “Permission to come aboard?” he boomed.

  “Granted, Uri! Come aboard,” answered Hatch. The two men shook hands when Uri was aboard the aircraft.

  “This is my right arm, Uri. Meet Sara Smith. Uri Stein, Sara.”

  Sara shook his hand. He had a strong grip.

  As Syd moved into the group, Hatch said, “I think you know this young lady.”

  Uri saw Syd and rushed to her, crushing her in a bear hug.

  “Anna, my dear! I’ve been so worried about you! I don’t know why, though. You’ve always taken good care of yourself! Your current predicament is all my fault! How are you?” he babbled with emotion.

  “I was fine until you crushed my ribs!” she laughed. “How are you, Uri? I’ve missed you!”

  “I don’t think so! You are just being polite! I’m sure that you never wanted to see me again!” he chuckled loudly.

  Uri looked toward the rear of the aircraft and saw the frightened prisoners. He stepped to the door of the plane and motioned to someone on the ground.

  “I’ll see that those two are properly taken care of. Why don’t you all come and have some lunch with me while they refuel your plane,” Uri stated. “Bring your travel documents and I will have Customs take care of them for you.”

  Two soldiers with sidearms came aboard and went to the prisoners. Hatch followed them and unlocked the handcuffs from the seats and handcuffed them again behind their backs. He handed the key to one of the soldiers, who then took the prisoners off the plane and disappeared out a door in the back of the hangar.

  Hatch and his harem joined Uri in a small room at one side of the hangar where a light lunch of kosher cold cuts and salads had been set out on a table. Syd fixed herself some lox and cream cheese on a bagel, something she had acquired a taste for during her stay in Israel. Besides, she was not very hungry, since she had eaten only a half-hour earlier. When they were all settled at a table nearby, Uri said, “I’m on duty, but I have a cooler of cold beer here. Also, some soft drinks, if you prefer. Help yourself. Now, let’s get down to business. I think it wise if you leave as soon as your plane is refueled. Fewer questions that way.”

  He passed a folder across the table to Hatch.

  “These are copies of documents which came from files marked TOP SECRET. So, I suppose I’m committing some sort of security breach here. However, these bastards make no secret of where they hole up, so all you have to do is watch the news, but this will speed things up for you. To be safe, however, destroy these after you have gleaned whatever information you are seeking,” said Uri.

  “I appreciate this more than I can say, Uri. No one will ever know that we saw these,” answered Hatch, taking a pull on his cold bottle of beer.

  “I do this in the hopes that it helps Anna—or I should say, Syd. I’m so used to calling her Anna. I can’t imagine what good these documents will do you, however. Attacking their stronghold will be very difficult, and politically sensitive,” said Uri. “As wealthy as you are, Hatch, I don’t know that you can get any mercenaries to attempt this—failure is highly probable.”

  “Well, Uri, greed is a powerful thing. We’ll see what we shall see. And failure is not in my vocabulary. Something has to be done or they will continue to s
talk Syd relentlessly. I will not allow that. There must be something that I can do. I will study these documents thoroughly,” Hatch answered.

  “My heart goes out to you, Syd! I wish my hands were not tied, but they are,” Uri said to Syd. “My thanks for bringing those two bastards to me. We will make the proper example of them. That will, perhaps, enrage Hamad enough to attack us on our on soil. Then I can act! I will be ready for him.”

  “Very iffy, Uri, but good luck! We must leave now,” replied Hatch. “Thanks for the lunch and the info. I owe you one.”

  • • •

  En route toward Istanbul, Hatch had spread the documents on the lounge table. There were pictures of Hamad and many of his henchmen, as well as maps, and satellite photos of their headquarters.

  “I’ve been to this city before, Hatch. Their building is on the outskirts of Tabriz. From these documents, it appears that it is heavily fortified and filled with armed men most of the time. It is so flat around the building, it’s hard for a sniper to get close enough to do much good. That’s why they feel so safe, I guess,” said Syd.

  “They won’t be safe from us. The Shadow will level that place, and kill everyone in it. I like the fact that they are so isolated: no collateral damage to civilians,” he replied.

  He got up and moved to the NAV/COMM Center and sat down in front of the computer screen.

  “I’m going to program one of our satellites to take some pictures of this building and its surroundings. That will help us plan our attack.”

  His fingers typed in a few commands. He entered the latitude and longitude of the building, then typed in more commands about the angles of approach, and other information he would need to view this place in 3-D later. He returned to the lounge table.

  “It will take a while to gather the info I need, a couple of passes from two satellites. Then we can build a 3-D model of the area,” he explained.

  “Sounds very technical,” observed Syd.

  “You’ll learn. It’s simple once you accept it, and use it a few times.”