Death & Other Lies

by Carol L. Ochadleus

  Three of his best men were already in place. They arrived in London by train the night before. Trusted men. Khourmy wanted only his most loyal people for this great endeavor. There must be no mistakes. Their last supper together was simple and humbling. Samid Alhammah, Rashid Kopranah, and El Ganah Mal Bennin were good friends. They grew up together in the streets of Pardis, Iran each vying for leadership of their neighborhood band. Khourmy had taken control early in his youth. He knew the pain each of his warriors carried within their hearts. He worked their pain. By the time he was seventeen, Khourmy was in control of several hundred soldiers for Allah who had come together from cities all over Iran and the middle-east. His plan was simple in its development, but promised maximum results, he chose four or five of his most dedicated soldiers for a chance at martyrdom.

  He promised passage to glory for Rashid Zand as well and mourned the fact it could not be. Rashid deserved this moment. He fulfilled his three-year mission in America to find a suitable weapon to serve Allah. If not for Rashid, they would never have developed the ‘Breath of God’ at all. But bad luck delayed his arrival in London. The plans they labored over for years were near at hand. He could not wait for Zand; there would be another day for his destiny to be fulfilled. Today the strike against the infidels must be completed. All was ready for them to grab their place in history. Standing at the railing overlooking the lower concourse, Khourmy smiled and prayed to Allah to blind his enemies to what was to come.

  AFTER DR. OWEN’S IMPROMPTU visit, Matt needed to get out of the apartment. He felt invaded. “How can anyone ever get used to having someone traipsing around inside their head like that?” he asked Agent Jensen. “Hey, still want to take a break and get something to eat?”

  “Absolutely.” Agent Jensen nodded his head toward the door. “I don’t know about you, but I’m nearly starved.” Matt would have made a flip comment about the condition of the agent standing in front of him having a way to go before starvation but thought better of the dig since he liked Jim. No sense needling the guy.

  Grabbing his jacket again, Matt rubbed his eyes. “What the hell are we doing here anyway? This is useless. We don’t even know what we are looking for ... and for all we do know, the data could be long gone. Since this place was taken apart a couple of times, I don’t think we have a ghost of a chance finding this proverbial needle in the haystack.”

  Jim nodded but kept his opinions to himself. He had worked for Ben Madison for eleven years and had a great deal of respect for the man. Ben believed there was a chance they would find the missing data in this guy’s apartment, or it would give Matt a clue to where it was, even after the vandals tore it all up and CIA inspected every square inch themselves.

  Something was bothering his charge, but Jim couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It was probably strange to be home where nothing looked familiar and with no memory of your life. “Where’s a good place to eat around here?” Jim asked, startled when Matt just stared back at him with a blank look. “I’m sorry.” Jim laughed. “Guess you're the wrong person to ask, huh? Well, we can head toward town and find something along the way.”

  “Hey, let me drive?” Matt was anxious to get behind the wheel of a car since arriving back in the country and now back in his territory; he needed to take charge of his life by whatever small measures he could.

  Unsure if it was a wise decision and probably against some agency rule, Jim thought for a moment then hesitantly threw Matt the keys. Maybe something as normal as driving on familiar roads might spark a memory. Ben told Jim to use his discretion and do whatever it takes, well this might help, Jim decided.

  As Matt pulled away from his apartment complex, he tried to keep his mind blank. He had driven those roads every day for more than three years; maybe his subconscious would take the place of his memory, which was being seriously obstinate in its recovery.

  A hazy sun was nearing the horizon as they made their way along the back roads scanning the side streets for a restaurant. A curious prickling sensation was working its way down Matt’s backbone as he swiveled his head back and forth in his search for a restaurant. Just out of reach of cognitive thought, a hint of memory tantalized him. Squinting against the glare, Matt pulled the visor down and was surprised when a CD fell in his lap.

  “What you got there?” Jim asked. “What is it?”

  “Based on the cover, it’s a Christmas album. Nothing special. Looks like a homemade mixture of old tunes. I suppose it’s mine.”

  “Probably,” Jim added, “but let me see it.” Matt tossed the disc to Jim, surprised at his interest. “The department wants to know of anything unusual,” he nodded at the silver disc in his hands. “It could mean something.”

  “Yeah, it could also mean someone else drove my car while I was gone.”

  “Why, who else would have access to it?”

  “How should I know?” Matt said, half laughingly. “I didn’t even know it was my car until you told me.”

  “Oh, yeah, right! But I’m sure Ben will want to check it out,” he said, dropping the CD in his pocket.

  Not as sure about the importance of the piece of plastic, Matt just shook his head. “Well if some guy broke into my car, although there is no evidence of any such act, and took a spin around the block in it, and even if you found out whom, what could it possibly tell you about me your department hasn’t already learned?”

  “Well, for starters, maybe why you have a no-name Christmas CD in your visor and were too cheap to spring for someone more famous ...”

  “Oh, like Nat King Cole or Bing Crosby doing White Christmas you mean,” Matt interrupted, laughing at the turn of the conversation. Matt found he liked Jim. Of all the agents he met in the past couple of days, Jim was the most normal, down to earth guy yet.

  “Yeah, like them.” Jim retorted. “And, by the way, how is it you can remember those guys but not your own name?” Jim threw back, making a strange face. “That’s weird, you know.”

  “No kidding.” Matt laughed again. “Things like that freak me out all the time. The worst part is this selective memory thing. It's playing frigging games with my head. I think I start to remember something and it slips away like mist. I can’t—” Matt slammed on the brakes, making Jim wonder at the wisdom of letting him drive, and motioned to a small restaurant across the road. “Hey, that place looks good! How about it?”

  “Looks clean anyway,” Jim added. “Yeah, fine with me, don’t know what else we’re going to find around here.”

  Matt saw a parking spot a few doors down and maneuvered the car into the tight space like a pro.

  “Pretty good job,” Jim noted, impressed.

  “Hmm, I don’t know what that says about me,” Matt laughed, “but it’s good to know that whatever else I’ve done in my life, I can park a damn car.” Both men were hungry and headed down the street into the lowering sun. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Jim was ten paces ahead of Matt before he realized his companion was no longer at his side. As he spun around, he saw Matt staring at an old, dilapidated building on his left, apparently hypnotized by something in the window. Mouth open, his arms limp at his side, Matt stood glued to the spot; frozen in time and space.

  “What? What’s wrong, Matt?” Jim hurried back to Matt’s side, aware something was up, and dinner was going to have to wait, again.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Matt answered as if speaking from a distance. “I need to go in here.”

  “Now?” Jim asked. “It’s probably closed.” Jim wasn’t up to wild goose chases on an empty stomach, but the look on Matt’s face made him forget his urge to eat. “Right, let’s check and see if it’s open, maybe someone is still here even if it’s not.” Matt was already heading toward the door when it opened right before he reached for the knob.

  “Sorry, fellas, I’m closed for the day.”

  “Uh, sir,” Matt stammered, “I am not sure why, but I know it’s important I go into your store, right now, while the sun is shining through
your window. Please, sir, it is important. I mean it’s urgent. I just know I have to do it now.” Matt was practically babbling, and even Jim looked at him in surprise.

  Saucy Abernathy just stared and scratched his head. “Why?” he said. “You can come back tomorrow.”

  “No,” Matt shouted. “I have to go in now.”

  “Hey now, listen here young man, this is my store, and I say when it’s closed or not. You want to start trouble with me, I’ll scream for the police, they’re usually eating right next door at that little restaurant. See there is even a cop car out in front now. Better not do anything stupid. Now get on with you, and I don’t think I even want you coming back tomorrow. Go find someplace else to freak out.” Saucy put one foot in the door to go back inside and get away from the wacko on the sidewalk, when the older guy braced a large hand against the door, pulled out a badge and flipped it in his face.

  “CIA, sir. We would like to take a closer look at your store right now.” Jim advised in a quiet but unmistakable voice.

  “What’s going on here?” Saucy was not going to be intimidated by a suit with a fancy badge, “I’ve got lots of cop friends around here. I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t push me around.”

  “No sir, we’re not trying to push anyone, but we would appreciate a few minutes of your time. My friend here has lost his memory in a bad accident, and for some reason, he is attracted to your fine store. Now I’m sure you don’t mind helping the guy out a little. Huh! What would it hurt if we just looked around for a couple of minutes? Whaddya think?” Jim knew there was no time to get a subpoena the way Matt was acting and was grateful he had won the match. Saucy grudgingly stepped aside to let his visitors in.

  “Two minutes, that’s all I’m gonna give you. You want any more you can go get a warrant if you can.”

  “Thank you, sir, we appreciate your time.” Jim's eyes were on Matt, who seemed to be lost in some other place. He floated through the door. Seeing Matt’s puzzling behavior sent shivers down Jim’s spine. Something was happening right in front of him, and he wasn’t sure if it was going to be good or bad.

  “Where did you get those colored glasses? Those little vases.” Matt was practically sobbing as he shoved aside furniture and junk, antique hat stands, and old washtubs, anything that got in his way. Matt neither heard nor realized the damage he was causing as he single-mindedly reached for the vases high above his head on the shelf which ran across the window.

  “Stop that, you son-of-a-bitch. Look what you’re doing to my shop!” Saucy leaped forward in an attempt to grab Matt’s arm but was spun away by Jim’s huge hand.

  “Let him go. I’ll compensate you for whatever happens but let him go.”

  “You’re damn right you will. He’s making a goddamn mess of my store, and you got the balls to tell me to let him just keep on doing it.”

  “That’s right.” Jim calmly stared down the agitated owner; all the while hoping Matt was on to something good, or Jim's ass would be in the hopper tomorrow with Ben.

  Matt saw her hair, golden, shining in the sun as he watched it curl around her face. So sweet, she was smiling that special smile at him. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Look what I found today!” she told him. Pulling a small bag out from behind her back, she held her treasure out for his inspection. A miniature vase winked with the lights behind it. She was so pleased she lit up the room. And he loved her. He reached the shelf and fingered the shape of the vase. The feel of it caused him to shiver all over. Cool and smooth. He saw her smile again. Blood pounded in his ears. Music played, and they danced. Matt swung her around, and the tinkling of her laughter filled his soul. Mindless bliss washed over him, and his knees buckled. The glass trinket hit the floor and shattered into a million shards of light.

  “Matt! Are you alright? Matt, look at me. Can you focus?” Jim was concerned and not at all sure what was happening. He probably should have called for backup when the whole scene started getting weird.

  “She’s gone. I couldn’t find her. I tried, and everyone thought I was crazy, but she’s real. These vases were hers. I remember them. I remember her.”

  It was a forlorn picture Jim and Saucy shared of Matt sitting on the floor holding his head in one hand and trying to scoop up sliver size pieces of his memory with the other. His vision reeled as his past swirled around him and clung to his senses. Kate, in his arms, Kate dancing, Kate dangling a bare leg out of the shower. The parts involving Kate were clear, but everything else was like swimming through murky shadows. The past came at him with the roar of a freight train, racking his body with waves of nausea and leaving his chest heaving as his memory returned. There was no stopping the flood once it began, and his mind field cleared. He knew who he was. He remembered his life, and there wasn’t much in it he’d welcome back.

  Jim was immediately on the phone to Ben’s office, and within ten minutes, Matt was bundled off to a twenty-four-hour Emergency Clinic, and two more of Ben’s agents arrived. His hands were embedded with slivers of glass.

  “Matt, congratulations, you’re back!” The Ben who strode in the door twenty minutes later was a strikingly different man than Matt met days before. This Ben was calm and smiling, genuinely pleased at the turn of events. “So Matt, where did you put your notes for safe keeping?”

  Without any further hesitation or need to consider his response, Matt blurted out, “Ask Jim. He has it. The Christmas CD is in his hands. I remember making the CD before I left for Europe. The notes you want are on it.” Ben spun around. The smile was gone.

  “You better be sure. We're not playing any more games with you.”

  “What do you mean games? That’s what I remember. If you think I’m wrong, go check it out.” Matt was angry at Ben’s attack, and something snapped in him. “I have given you everything I can, and I’m sure you’ll find what you are looking for on that damn CD.” Without batting an eye, Ben walked out motioning for Agent Jensen to follow, letting the door close behind them. Within seconds, the two new agents filled the spot Ben vacated.

  “Mr. Madison wants you to accompany us to his office as soon as possible,” one of the guys informed him.

  “Get your coat,” the other agent added.

  A young doctor with a tray in his hands heard their remarks as he joined the group, “Uh sorry, guys, I’ve got to sew up his hand before he goes anywhere. There are some nasty cuts in need of attention, possibly some shards of glass still in there. You guys can watch if you want or wait in the hall until I’m done.”

  One agent looked to the other who shrugged at his companion.

  “I don’t mind the blood. I’ll wait if you want to get a coffee.”

  “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, make sure he’s ready,” the departing agent shot at the young doctor.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll have him good as new.” As the door closed, the resident smiled a slow lopsided grin. “Sorry to interrupt, but it seemed to me like you could use some help,” he said in a low voice gently turning Matt’s hand over to check the wounds. “Those two sounded a little heavy-handed,” he added, nodding his head at the lone agent now leaning against the far wall.

  “Thanks, I guess. It’s been a difficult day.”

  “No problem, how’s the hand feeling?”

  “Funny thing about my hand, I’m not sure how this happened, and I can’t even feel anything. It’s pretty numb. Guess I’ve got too much crap to think about to worry about a few cuts.”

  “Well let me take a look at it anyway, you’re bleeding pretty bad. While I do, you can go ahead if you want and tell me what’s going on. I’m a good listener.” He hadn’t intended to say much, but almost without hesitation, Matt poured out most of his life in a torrent of remembered words, and once started, he was helpless to stop the flood. He never felt a single stroke of the doctor’s needle, just sat there staring at the neat stitches as each one pulled the flaps of skin closed.

  “Wow, what a story.” The young intern, Dr. Joe, exam
ined his handiwork and cleaned the blood away from the wounds; pleased it was one of his better jobs. He bandaged Matt’s hand before he spoke again. “You’ve had a rough go of it, are you sure you can go with them now? I can get an order for you to stay here for observation if you want to collect yourself.”

  “No, thanks, I’m okay. Don’t know why I dumped all that crap on you, guess my head was so full of all my new, or my old, memories, it just exploded, and you got the full load. More than anyone else I want to finish this garbage and get my life back.”

  “Well, that’s good because your escorts are ready to go.” The returning agent was seen through the window of the treatment room, heading in Matt’s direction.

  Ben's office discovered the CD held what Matt told them it would, and it was on its way to the lab for analysis and to start the serum production. For the first time in days, Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Heathrow Airport, suspected as it was to be the target for whatever attack was to come, was relieved of as many flights as possible, which still left it nearly bursting at the seams with hordes of scurrying travelers. Loudspeakers announced incoming and departing flights over the cacophony reverberating within the vast enclosure.

  Two small children fell first. They dropped to the floor at their mother’s side, causing her to stop and reprimand them for their misbehavior. The laugh on her face froze as her muscles and bones no longer held her up, and she too hit the floor. As she fell, her eyes brimmed with tears as she helplessly watched her thrashing children. All around her pockets of unearthly quiet mushroomed, spreading from one cluster of people to another. Whole families dropped simultaneously onto the cold, ages-worn floor.