Chapter Thirty
“Ben, I’m forever grateful to you for my daughters. And, it’s not my place to tell you how to do your job, but I’ve said it before, you aren’t being fair to Matt, nor are you using all of the tools available to you.”
“Now, Elizabeth, you know we have been over this a dozen times or so.” Ben was in the middle of a meeting when Elizabeth called. Just hearing she was on the phone put a little extra spark in his walk as he made his way down the hall to his office where he could speak to her privately. His staff was pretty astute, and if he lost his composure for even a second, a smile or a look could give him away, and he would never hear the end of it. It would not be appropriate for his underlings even to guess he had a soft spot in him, and if they suspected he cared about two of his agent’s mother, oh shit, what a ruckus that would cause. Elizabeth. He liked saying her name and tried to fit it into the conversation whenever he could.
“Elizabeth, I can’t just waltz Kate over to Matt’s place and lay that whole thing on him. We’re pretty convinced he is more than just a little messed up right now. Adding Kate to his welcome home party would not offer any further advantage I can see.”
“But you don’t know him as I do,” she insisted. “If he is in love with her, even if he doesn’t remember it, having her back might trigger whatever spark he needs to become whole again. You want him to find his missing work, don’t you? Kate may be the spark to help him.”
“Or it might be the biggest shock of his life and send him deeper into the abyss he’s in,” Ben countered. “How do you think he will feel about her when he finds out she was a plant in his life? Or learn their whole relationship was set up? Where is he going to run, mentally or emotionally or physically, this time, when he learns who she is? Think about it, Elizabeth ... we, the government ... Kate and I ... and a team of people have used him. We caused him a great deal of pain. How is he going to feel when he hears the truth?”
“Ben, if I didn’t know you better, I would think your main concern is the end game.” Even Ben had to laugh.
“I’m afraid you have me there. I must, and I will do whatever it takes to get the antidote, and it needs to be done pretty quickly. We know Khourmy’s cell is active, and timing is critical. I will use every tactic I have to get Matt’s head back together, but right now; it doesn’t include Kate.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Alright, I gave it my best shot. Lilly and I think you’re wrong but—”
“Oh, so you’ve got Lilly against me as well,” Ben smiled as he thought of his girls. “I guess I’ll have to have a serious discussion with her. Even though it won’t change a thing, just what does Kate think about reconnecting with Matt?”
“Oh, she doesn’t know I’ve even mentioned it to you.”
“What? Don’t you think she has as much right to a voice on this topic as you seem to think Matt has?”
“Yes, of course, she does, but given the circumstances, I know she would want to help in any way she could if she gets the green light from you.” Elizabeth didn’t want to share with Ben, what Lilly confided about Kate’s feelings for Matt. Knowing Ben’s penchant for professionalism, Elizabeth feared he would reprimand Kate for something, not her fault. Elizabeth knew all too well how emotions directed your life, with your permission or not. If Kate did fall in love with Matt, as Lilly seemed to think was the case, it might be rocky for them at first, but Elizabeth had faith in the two young people and hoped with time they could sort it out.
It didn’t take being her identical twin for Lilly to see how Kate cared for Matt, yes, even loved him and the safe, normal world she wanted so badly. But she knew her sister well enough to know her loyalty to the government, her work, and Ben took precedence over her happiness, and she would follow orders and leave him behind. Lilly had no doubts her sister would be happy with Matt, and she secretly had hoped Kate would have rejected the order to leave months before and would stay in Philadelphia with him. But, when Ben said, “Wipe it clean,” Kate followed orders. She would have left nothing for Matt to trace. She was methodical.
As they packed up the proof of Kate’s existence from the apartment, Lilly had already decided to change fate. She knew she was breaking protocol and could be punished for her actions, but there was only a little more than a year left of their commitment to Ben and their service to the U.S. Government. They would be free to build normal lives soon. Somehow, she must leave Matt enough clues to find her sister, but not involve Kate in the plot.
Lilly knew Matt had shopped at the antique store before and passed it on his way to and from work. Kate’s glass vases were too lovely to be forever buried in a government warehouse, and for some reason, it didn’t sound like Kate intended to take them with her. Lilly tucked them into a small satchel she carried. One of them was chipped, and the sharp edge sliced her finger as she slid it into the bag. Without drawing attention, she couldn’t stop to clean up the drops of blood that splattered to the floor. A few days later she gave the vases to the antique dealer. They were unique and looked stunning in the window of the shop, just like she suggested to the owner they would. Eventually, Matt would see them. It was just a matter of time.
If Matt was indeed half as smart as Lilly thought he was, and if he loved Kate like she believed he did, he would find her. Lilly, determined to help him, left several clues behind. Matt’s long days in the lab gave Lilly the opportunity she needed to slip back into his apartment and plant a book of Kate’s in a place he would find it. She knew Kate wouldn’t break the rules, even to follow her own heart. The book should have been enough to send Matt searching.
Although in hindsight, she had no idea he would run all the way to England to follow the postcard. She only meant it to be the impetus to send him looking. She thought he would search locally since the stamp inside the back cover was a downtown bookstore and should have aimed him toward a local quest. When she heard about his trans-Atlantic journey, she realized she was right about his love for Kate, and just how far he would go to find her.
However, in a debriefing session with Ben, Kate mentioned Matt’s job offer from the Washington laboratory. If he accepted it, he would be leaving soon. Lilly realized a broken-hearted Matt may go, unaware the missing Kate loved him too.
She would have to take further action to ensure her sister’s happiness. The envelope instructing Matt to go to Washington, in script nearly identical to her sister’s, was the clinching detail. Matt would realize Kate cared for him. It was easy to pose as a man, trail him to his destination, and slip the paper to Matt before he knew what happened. The fog, a bonus, helped her quickly disappear into the night.
BEN’S ORDERS WERE SPECIFIC. Agent Jim Jensen was not to leave Matt alone for a minute. Spend whatever time it took but find those notes. Matt knew about the events which took place in his home. His apartment was ransacked. Twice. First by the Iranians, then by the CIA. Some of his furniture was smashed and his belongings scattered like garbage over every inch of the floor. Two people, he couldn’t remember killed each other, leaving a huge bloodstain it took experts days to remove.
With the help of pictures Kate took of Matt’s home before she moved in, Ben’s agents put the place back together as best they could. The agency was able to reassemble his home with nearly identical furnishings. Every piece of broken furniture or belonging of Matt’s, too badly damaged to be repaired, was replaced. The scraps were wrapped and secured in a government warehouse, just in case, they were identified as holding the missing notes.
“I don’t know what I expected,” Matt said. “I had hoped something would trigger at least a glimmer of who I was, or I mean who I am. But so far, all I get is a recurring message, like a neon light flashing in my face.”
“And what’s that?” the agent asked hoping it would add some insight to the day.
“It’s not right! It doesn’t feel right. That’s all I can tell you for sure. I don’t know what ‘it’ is supposed to be, but ‘its’ not here.”
Several ho
urs in the apartment weren’t productive. Matt went through the rooms twice. Several things in his home had been replaced or restored and what was left of his personal belongings were back in the drawers and cupboards. No clue jumped out at him about where the hidden data was. Pressure from Ben Madison and his agents and the increasing feeling of impending doom weighed on him, and although it would have been his highest priority if left to himself, there was no time to give a great deal of effort to recapturing his life.
“How about a trip uptown?” Jim asked, grimacing over the cup of instant coffee in his hand. They were sitting in the kitchen at the end of the fruitless day. “We can follow the path you probably took on your way home from work each day. Maybe something will hit you.” Nodding in agreement, Matt grabbed the jacket off the back of the chair, and they headed toward the door, but stepping outside, they were surprised to find Dr. Owen just getting out of her car. The trip downtown would have to wait.
Matt’s memory was as cloudy as it had been since the day he woke up in Wales. Learning who he was and the details of his life only added to his frustration. With relief, Matt accepted Marcy’s suggestion to allow her to relax him back into a hypnotic state. If Matt could find a narrow thread with her help, maybe he could find his way back.
“Flying, I’m flying,” he told her. “It’s so pretty and blue.”
“Where are you flying Matt, are you in a plane? Are you taking a trip?” Marcy’s voice rose and dipped as if she were a bird in flight. “Where are you going, Matt?”
“No, I am the plane. I can see to the horizon. Oh, it’s so still and quiet. Franny is here too. Franny is afraid of me. She is very old; I’m afraid I won’t see her again.”
“Matt, I want you to open your eyes now,” Marcy spoke in a bare whisper. “You will stay deeply asleep, but you will be able to see when you open your eyes.” Matt’s eyes popped open as if loaded with springs. “Matt, can you tell me what you see?”
“I see you.”
“And where are we?”
Slowly Matt’s head rose from the couch, and he swiveled it as far as he could to look around the room. “This is my apartment,” Matt confirmed in a slow, dreamlike voice. “This is my home.”
“That’s right, Matt, this is your home. You have lived here for several years. Do you recognize your things?” Matt hesitated, then nodded.
“Yes.”
“That’s good. Is everything the way it should be in your apartment?” Again, Matt slowly swiveled his head, seemingly taking in the room’s details before him. When no answer came forth, Dr. Owen asked him again. “Is everything okay, Matt?”
“No. I don’t like it like this.” A sob nearly broke his voice, and a violent shudder went through him. “It’s all wrong. Where are her things? Where is Kate?”
“Kate? Why do you want to know where Kate is? Are you expecting her to be here?”
“Yes, she’s late, and I can’t find her. Something happened to her, and I’ve looked everywhere for her.”
Dr. Owen was clearly startled by the vehemence of Matt’s answer and tried to redirect his subconscious back to the job at hand.
“We will look for Kate later, please calm yourself, Matt. I want you to relax, relax. Lie back down and close your eyes once more.” Matt’s eyes clamped shut, and his head dropped like a stone onto the pillow. “Where are you now, Matt?”
“There are people on the floor. There are some children here too. I don’t want to look at them. I can’t walk without seeing them.”
“All right, don’t be afraid. I want you to look up Matt, look away from the people. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, is that better?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Will you take me to your lab now? Please tell me about your work. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I make death.”
“Who told you that?”
“Franny.”
“Did you know Franny said you could also help people?”
“Franny said that?”
“Yes. She wants you to help us to save people. Can you help us do that?”
“I don’t know. What do I have to do?”
“Remember, Matt. Remember. You finished an important project. You created a serum to save people. Do you remember the project and the serum Matt?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, good. Can you tell me what you did with the notes about your serum?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful Matt, it will make Franny happy if you can tell me where your notes are. What did you do with them, Matt?”
“I destroyed them.” The tension affected Dr. Owen, who was not prepared for the answer he gave. She nearly sprang from the chair she was sitting in across from Matt.
“Why would you destroy them?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level. Matt didn’t move or make any attempt to answer her. A strange look came over his face. She asked him again.
“Matt, you spent years developing an important serum, one which had the potential to save lives if it was needed. You are a dedicated scientist. When you were finished with your research, what did you do with all of the notes?” Matt’s face turned almost hostile, and Dr. Owen thought he might fly from the couch at any moment.
“Don’t you understand what I did,” he shouted at her. “I’m to blame for people suffering, dying. Me, I killed them.”
“No,” she said, in as calm a voice as possible. “You help people Matt. You are not responsible for the evil people do to others. Your work is good. You are good. When you finished your research, you knew it was good. You wanted to protect it. You put it someplace safe, didn’t you? Can you remember where that safe place is?” A calmer Matt peered into his mind. A safe place, he thought in his dreamlike state, a safe place?
Pieces of places and things swam past his mind’s eye. A woman called to him, and the man next to her stood quietly pointing at the stars. Yes, he was safe, but the mist swirled, and there was blood. Blood on his hands, blood on the road. Bodies sprawled on the ground dried up and crinkled like fallen leaves before they blew away and the particles turned to thousands of twinkling colored lights that sparkled in the air like fireworks. And then he saw her. He knew the taste and the smell of her. Oh, so beautiful she was. Curled up like a cat on his couch. Enticing him to kiss her. Her lips were wet and inviting, but as he bent to kiss her, the image started to change. Her hair turned gray and tangled. A bony finger pointed in his direction and a voice sadder than anything he had ever heard before called to him. ‘Remember,’ it said.
“No, come back,” he pleaded, don’t leave me again; spinning around in the rain, he spied his love. “I love you,” he called out. But, the woman of his dreams gently glided through a door and disappeared. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. “Come back,” he pleaded again in a near whisper.
“Where are you, Matt?” Dr. Owen gently asked him.
“I’m lost,” he answered. “I’ve always been lost.”
“HOW’S IT GOING MARCY,” Ben asked as she plopped into one of the overstuffed chairs in his office.
“Not so good, I’m afraid. There is a massive wall Matt can’t get beyond. Stops us every time I try regressive therapy. For some compelling reason, he doesn’t want to remember.” Ben’s brow furrowed.
“I thought you could get past those kinds of obstacles. We don’t have the luxury of slow therapy here, you know. Our reports indicate a catastrophe is imminent.” Ben was tired, and it showed in his patience. Or lack thereof.
“I know,” Marcy nodded, I know what’s at stake, but there is only so much these techniques will uncover. If he is blocking his memory, it will take time to break down the wall. I’ve given you other options before; there are drugs that will work better. And some shock treatments are possible, but there are no guarantees any one method will be better than another. And, there is always the possibility of further damaging his memory.”
Ben stood before the large window in his office, hands thru
st deep in his pockets, eyes squinting in the low afternoon sun. “Do what you have to do, Marcy, but we must find that antidote. I don’t have much confidence our guys can duplicate his work any time soon. It was his baby, and it took him nearly a year. Just get me the information. I’m depending on you, Marcy.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Heathrow security was on full alert for days, and the strain was affecting each of their employees. With such a huge and diverse population streaming through their gates each day, the constant stress of watching for signs of covert activities rubbed the guard’s senses raw. No one wanted a crisis on their watch, but the constant search for minuscule clues caused a contradictory effect. Eyes grew tired, and suspicious details were increasingly overlooked.
Khourmy knew this and flagrantly took advantage of the lapse of attention. His people were ready. The venomous poison had been painstakingly duplicated in sufficient quantity to bring the infidels to their knees. He would have his day, and Allah would be pleased.
It was only seven-fifteen in the morning and the airport already hummed with thousands of travelers, each preoccupied with their journey. Families herded together corralling youngsters; some showing the obvious fatigue at a trip’s end or others full of anticipation just beginning their holiday. There were hundreds of soldiers recently arrived from a base in Spain; they were sleeping in chairs, reading or calling loved ones during the brief layover in London. An announcement was repeated about a young boy, eight-year-old Sammy Campbell, who could not be found. The child had become separated from his parents, and all visitors were asked to report any sightings of lone children to the nearest concierge desk. Loudspeakers blared with flight information, and various service announcements played every ten minutes. Vendors hawked maps, sandwiches, fruit drinks, coffee, and magazines.
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