The small band of martyrs watched London unravel from various positions around the arena. Khourmy thrilled to the macabre show, euphoric as the actors fell on cue. Just as they knew it would happen when they opened small containers of the toxin and let it drift downward with the movement of the air currents within the terminal, his brothers watched death play tag with the infidels before them. Their prayers to Allah would touch his ears this day. They would be blessed with unbelievable glory. This day was their duty, their right, and their destiny.
Khourmy spied his best friend Samid Alhamad on the ground floor below him, with his arms outstretched, blessing the crowds with the small vial. Khourmy envied Samid. His friend would be in paradise today, but alas, he could not claim his eternal reward as well, there was still much to do. “Allah be praised. We come to you and join your resplendency,” Samid was praying. “You have vanquished our enemies. Your glory is forever. Death to all who would defy your name. Allah be—” His lips froze mid-sentence as he fell with the multitude around him, frozen in semi-death, his eyes staring straight ahead, but seeing only his ascent to the heavens. Khourmy slowly turned and headed for the exits. Allah was wonderful, indeed.
“It’s only been thirty-eight hours since we found the notes,” Ben yelled into the phone. “There have been five labs producing the serum for nearly two days, but they can’t expect us to produce vats of the stuff on such short notice.” With little sleep, Ben was pushing his people to push others to beat the attacker's timeline.
Already two shipments of the antidote jetted across the world in a race against time. Word of the horrendous occurrence in Heathrow had only come in four hours before. Thousands of travelers lay in near death conditions, with their vital organs barely functioning enough to keep them alive.
Teams of medical personnel in Hazmat suits descended upon the stricken hoards within minutes of the assault, but until the serum was available, there was little they could do to save a single life. As they moved from one dying person to another trying to make them more comfortable, only the squishing sounds of rubber-soled shoes broke the unearthly silence, totally unnerving the rescuers down to their toes.
Judging by Matt’s experiments, those affected by the plague would slowly die within hours without the antidote. British intelligence estimated nearly six-thousand people were dropped by the lethal product, and the dying would begin in less than two hours. Military jets were on the way as fast as technology could fly. The race to the finish would be a close one.
Quick to accept the glory for the deed, several radio stations in Tehran proclaimed Khourmy’s loyal cell responsible for the attack. They claimed credit for a vastly exaggerated number of people dying in the huge English airport. Celebrations broke out all over the territory as thousands of people spread the word they were dancing while thousands of their enemies lay dying. Gunshots rang out over the Iranian cities.
“Almost eight-hundred people so far.” Ben was poring over the reports coming in by the half-hour. “How many more will be lost before the antidote gets there?”
“It’s tragic,” Abe Curly, Ben’s boss was on the speakerphone. “At least the number is slowing. Hopefully, thousands will make it. It's too soon for anyone to guess what the recovery rate will be for the ones that do survive. Good job, Ben, on the progress so far, and for finding the serum. But we know the threat hasn’t been neutralized yet.”
“Yeah, we're aware we've only solved part of the problem,” Ben agreed. “The ‘Breath’ is still out there. Even though we now have a way to save people, it can still happen somewhere else, and we may not be on top of the site like we were at Heathrow, before it's too late.”
“The shit-heads keep popping up like mushrooms all over the world.” Abe lamented. “We squash them in one spot, and they stick their ugly heads out of the ground somewhere else to cause more grief.”
“I know sir, we're all frustrated playing games with the assholes, but we do our best to stay ahead of them. At least we win one occasionally,” Ben pointed out.
“I'm not sure if I'd call losing hundreds of people winning a round,” Abe chided, “but I do know what you mean. Well, I'm headed to Washington for a briefing with the President, keep me up to date.”
Ben's mind was already miles away as he disconnected the call. There was nothing more he could do for the poor souls at Heathrow, and other security matters already demanded his attention.
Now that the crisis was out of his hands, on a less serious note he thought of Elizabeth and the twins who would be heading home soon to Grand Rapids. Ben smiled, knowing her as he was growing to do; she would visit him before she left Washington to plead her case for reuniting Kate and Matt. Only partially did Ben admit to himself the reason he kept refusing Elizabeth was to keep her in close contact with him. But the main reason, he argued in his head, is Kate's duty. I can’t afford to lose a good agent just because of a silly love affair. There are more important things at stake in the world than a lost boyfriend.
Ben hadn't voiced his idea to the twins yet, but he was already planning on having them re-commit to the agency when their contract was up next year, and adding a love interest would hamper his efforts at recruitment. The girls were young; there were plenty of years ahead of them for romance. Another five or ten-year contract was doable, at least from his point of view. They just hit their stride. “Nope,” he said out loud to the walls, Matt would just have to find someone else to help him heal. Kate was an agent of the U.S. Government, a damn good one too. Not a nursemaid for some guy in need of TLC.
Heading down the hall to the conference room, a nagging thought played at the back of his mind. How did Matt recover his memory in the antique store? What was the trigger? Agent Jensen hadn't known for sure according to his report, but it was a question, and Ben wanted an answer. He didn't have time to dwell on the issue right now, but he would make certain he got to the bottom of it soon. Maybe at the same time, he would finally discover what sent Matt flying across the world in search of Kate's mother, to begin with. “Yep, another mystery,” he smiled at the warm feeling thinking about Elizabeth always gave him. I'll have to investigate this thoroughly.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“You did what?” Kate was staring at her sister as if she had just sprouted a second head. “Are you out of your mind? What would make you do such a thing? I'm a big girl, you know. If I wanted to leave a trail behind me, I could have done it myself. You had no right to do such a thing!” Kate was sitting quietly looking out the window of the plane on their way back to Michigan, her mind a million miles away when the conversation between Lilly and their mother broke through to her.
“Now, Kate,” Elizabeth hushed her. “Lilly only meant something good for you. She understood how much you felt for Matt.”
“That didn't give her any right to break the rules or take my life in her hands. I can't believe you are sticking up for her. Did you plan this together?”
“No, you idiot, Mom didn’t have anything to do with this,” Lilly shot back, “at least not at first, but she’s okay with what I did now. Aren't you, Mom?” Without waiting for a reply, Lilly went on, “I left a few clues for Matt. Mom didn't know about it until I told her everything after she couldn't figure out how Matt had found his way to England. That's all.”
“That's all? That's all?” Kate was bright red from anger. “Do you know what happened to that poor man because of you? He could have been killed. He has lost his memory, his job, and his future because of what you did. It was only an accident Mom got involved in his care. What would have happened if she wasn't there to take care of him? He might still be lying in some antiquated hospital with no identity, no money, and no nothing. And all you can say is ‘that's all!’”
Miffed her sister was missing the point of her heroism, Lilly was beginning to see red herself. “Listen, dummy, he wouldn't have been run over by a motorcycle if he hadn't seen Mom to begin with, and he wouldn't have been in Wales if it hadn't been for the murder of Aunt Lau
ren. I didn't cause his amnesia, nor did it change his life for the worse. He wasn't going to be happy without you anyway, so missing a few months of time finding you, is not the big deal you seem to be making it.”
Kate was seething inside from the deception, but beneath the anger, a tiny spark of joy was trying to get her attention. Matt was looking for me. He loves me. It didn't exonerate Lilly, and she would never admit it to anyone, ever, but Kate felt the spark growing and the prospect, no matter how remote, of being back in Matt’s arms again, made her feel warm all over. As quickly as the flame grew, she stomped it down. How can I ever explain all that happened to him? How can I explain myself to him? A single tear formed at the corner of her eye. Staring out the window so her mother and Lilly couldn't see, Kate deliberately squashed the hope inside her again. Matt could never be told the truth. He would hate her. It was better he never saw her again, never know how she betrayed him than to have him look at her and turn away. The tear fell, and she let it drop in her lap.
“MATT, PLEASE COME IN and sit down. So good of you to come back.” Ben waved to the familiar chair by his desk.
“Your agents never give me much choice,” Matt added sarcastically.
“Yeah, hmmm, well, anyway, I wanted to personally thank you for your contribution to the Heathrow efforts. A rather nasty bit of business over there, you know. Don’t know how many more lives would have been lost if you hadn’t been able to produce the notes when you did.”
Matt refused the seat and continued to stand, just looking at Ben as he spoke. With arms crossed belligerently across his chest, Matt gave way to the months of frustration bottled up inside of him. “I have done all that you asked; I have given you what you wanted. Why am I here?” Matt demanded to know.
“Matt, there is more we have to talk about.”
“Like what? I don’t know anything else about your spy business. I barely remember who I am. But I’ll tell you this, I have just gotten a taste of my life, and I would like to get back to it. I don’t belong here in your world. I would appreciate if you would stop dragging me here, there, and all over the place. I understand the pressure you had to find the antidote and why it was important to make me remember, but it will haunt me until the day I die. I was responsible for the deaths of those poor people, and I swear to you and everyone else, I had nothing but good intentions when I worked on that research project. My lab ... and your government, I may add, wanted that specific work done. It was supposed to be used for good in spite of how it turned out. I don’t know how the whole damn thing went wrong ... or how it got into the wrong hands to be used so brutally on innocent people. I’ve asked your agents to explain it, but all I get are the blank stares they are so good at. At this point, I’m still damn curious about the whole thing, but I doubt you’re going to give me any more answers than they did. So, I’d just like to say I’m glad I could give you what you needed to fix it, but I’m done now. Let me go home and get on with my life. There are things I have to get back to.”
Ben’s face grew solemn as he rode out Matt’s tirade.
“I know Matt, I ... we here in the CIA believe what you say to be true. International terrorism is not your battle to fight, even though it could be argued it does indeed belong to the entire country, but be that as it may, you deserve to get back to your life. However, because of your relationship to the product created at Marsh Labs you have a responsibility, a duty, in fact, to spend a bit more time being briefed on all that has transpired since you last shut the light off in your lab, so you may shed whatever further knowledge you have on the catastrophe.”
“Further knowledge, such as?” Matt demanded in a little less irate tone. “You know a whole lot more than I do about every detail of my life.”
Ben took his time responding; he had to make a decision before he spoke again. “Alright, Matt, what do you want to know?”
Doubtful he was going to get the truth; Matt was ready to stay defensive. But something in Ben’s tone and body language lessened the static in the air. Hesitant at first, not exactly sure what he would get, he tentatively asked, “I would like to know about everything. What happened to my work? How did it get around the world?” Before long, without realizing how it happened, he was sitting in the previously offered and declined chair. Matt and Ben were about to have their first real discussion, and neither one of them knew how it would change their lives.
Matt sat in silence while Ben finished his tale. No shock registered when he learned about Phil’s betrayal of his work to the Iranian terrorists, nor did he doubt for a second Phil was capable of such treachery. But it was hard to swallow that Phil was killed in Matt’s apartment, and by the superintendent of all people. He always thought Fred was squirrely, but he was surprised he could commit murder.
Theft was probably Fred’s motive, although they would never know for sure. After the sound of the gunshot that took Phil's life, the neighbors called the police, and the bodies were found. Fred’s apartment was inspected and turned up a stash he was growing for years. He amassed quite a collection of odds and ends picked up from his tenant’s homes. When the items were returned to their rightful owners, some were grateful, some cursed the thief, and others felt violated by a man they trusted in their homes and around their families. No one missed him.
Several hours after they began their discussion, Ben walked Matt to the door of his office and instructed an agent to take Matt home. Ben told Matt what he could about the events which led up to the mass murder in England. He tied all the loose ends up and neatly presented them to Matt to sort out in his own time. Ben explained the brother in Las Vegas and the microchip in the Bible, he told Matt about Phil breaking into his apartment, and the destruction of his things as the Iranians took the place apart looking for the lost data. The only piece he left out was Kate and the government’s surveillance of Matt and his apartment. Matt remembered Kate on his own in the antique shop, but there was no way of tying Kate to the CIA, and if Ben had anything to say about it, and he did, Matt may never find out that piece of the story.
OPENING THE DOOR OF his apartment, Matt was surprised how easily the lock turned. In a flash, the memory of his former frustration with the door returned. Hmm, well the dead maintenance guy did something right before he got himself wasted, Matt thought to himself. It was an eerie feeling going home alone. No agent to dog his footsteps, no feeling his every move was open to inspection. It was the first time in many weeks his life was his own again. He wasn’t sure what it meant for his future, but at least he was free to figure it out himself. Back on home territory, with nothing and no one to stand in his way, he was free to think about her. His Kate. The golden dream at the end of the path he took to find her. All the pain and suffering of the past months would have been whisked away with no more substance than a cobweb if he found her in the process. He remembered her all right, and he remembered why he went to England. Although his memory was still pretty foggy about the events leading up to the accident in Wales, he was slowly putting all the pieces together about what happened after.
He would sort it out. His scientific mind wanted to analyze everything that happened. There were so many pieces to the puzzle, Phil, and the Iranians, Elizabeth supposedly drowned in London and then nursing him back to health in Wales with Franny at the cottage. Are they tied together? Can they be, or is it all a coincidence? The reason he had been attracted to Elizabeth in the road was obvious; Kate was a ringer for her mother. But why did the Royal Arms deliberately concoct a story substituting Elizabeth’s death for Lauren’s? In spite of the mystery, he marveled that it was Kate’s mother who nursed him back to health. That was something he hadn’t thought to ask Ben about, but Ben seemed to be pretty foggy himself about what happened to Matt while he was in England, or so he said.
Matt reflected as he sat on the new couch staring at a blank wall, it was Interpol’s men who tracked me down to Elizabeth’s cottage hadn’t they, so ..., Matt mused, how did they do that? Ben hasn’t been telling me everyt
hing he knows, after all. First thing in the morning he was going to call Ben and ask more questions. What he needed now was a hot shower, and then a good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow I need to get in touch with Dr. Nowak and see about my job. Matt had no idea how he was going to explain the whole affair to him, but he needed his job, and that was the best place to start. Maybe Marsh would understand how stress drove me to leave the country. I don’t owe them an explanation for my time off. But I know they won’t be happy why I didn’t return on time. But after all, it wasn’t my fault what happened to my notes. It should earn me some points I followed my instinct not to leave everything behind in the laboratory. Shouldn’t it? Phil is to blame for what happened. Him and his greed. There was always something wrong about him; now I know what it was. Poor Dr. Nowak, he’s going to get a lot of heat for hiring Phil.
Matt continued his mental defense; I did save thousands of lives with the serum, yeah, yeah, even if it was also my work that caused the tragedy in the first place, well that’s what they paid me to do. It would take some doing, but Matt was ready for the battle to reclaim his place in the lab. No doubt the position in Washington was already filled, but that was okay as well. He enjoyed working with Dr. Nowak. He would give it his best shot and be happy just to get his old job back.
Then there was Kate. She was the last thing on his mind before sleep claimed him. He knew he would find her now and have the chance to ask her what went wrong between them. All he needed was to contact Elizabeth, and she would help him. Considering all that happened, it was a stroke of luck in the end. The link to Kate was right there in front of him the whole time he was in Wales. How astounding it was to know where to start. Matt was smiling as he drifted off. He slept well. His reunion with Kate was only a phone call away.
MATT’S CALL TO DR. Nowak was anything but fruitful. He couldn’t get past the secretary and was only able to leave his number. What the hell is going on there? The woman was evasive and kept repeating the same line; ‘someone would be in touch with him.’ What the hell does that even mean? Is my career blown? He couldn’t believe Dr. Nowak would blow him off like that. He should at least give him a chance to explain. But it didn't look like it was going to happen easily.
Death & Other Lies Page 24