“Yes, everything is fine,” the silver-haired man answered.
The guards nodded and exited the room, closing the door.
This was all getting to be too much for Mike. All these unanswered questions were beginning to make him feel light-headed.
“Where’s my wife?” asked Mike, his voice cracking. “And what the hell do you mean, I’m dead?”
“Listen, this will all make sense soon enough.” The man stood up abruptly, smoothing his expensive suit jacket. “I’ll return tomorrow, after you’ve had a chance to speak with her. Until then, try to take it easy, Mike.”
He strode out of the room without another word.
―
Mike was awash in the terror at the airport. The explosion coming from the airplane. The confused look in the wounded police officer’s eyes as he raised his gun…Mike lifted his hand to his sensitive face. Friendly fire by another cop.
The sound of an opening door brought him back to reality. Dr. Lisa Harrison Powell stepped into the room, and Mike had never been so happy to see anybody in his entire life. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, leaving him a clear view of her perfectly shaped oval face and striking blue eyes. A small cluster of freckles rode the bridge of her nose. She was dressed in a beige pair of linen pants and a white short-sleeve blouse. Mike could see right away that she was no longer pregnant.
“Oh, baby, I missed you so much!” exclaimed Lisa, kissing her husband gently on the mouth before he could speak. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. Dr. Webb told me you’d be in a coma for another week…”
“I’m just glad you’re here now,” Mike said, breathing in the scent of her hair. They held each other for a long time without saying a word.
“There is so much to tell you, honey,” Lisa finally whispered into his ear. Mike felt his wife’s warm tears run down his neck and embraced her a little harder, kissing her head softly.
“How are Melissa and the baby?” asked Mike.
Lisa slowly pulled back, and her eyes became overcast. He could see that she was fighting back more tears, but within moments, they came flooding down her face. “Oh, Mike…I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry,” said Lisa between sobs.
A wave of dread passed over Mike’s body and settled into the pit of his stomach. “What happened?”
“There is no way to tell you this without hurting you,” Lisa said, shaking her head as though she was trying to dislodge some thoughts inside her mind.
“Baby, you’re scaring me,” Mike said. “Please tell me what this is all about.”
Lisa took a deep breath and took her husband’s hands in her own. “Honey,” she began, “on the day you were injured, there was more than one terrorist attack. They didn’t just hit the airport. They hit the train station, too,” finished Lisa, trying to control her voice.
“The train station?” Mike asked, not liking where this was going.
“Yes. Where I was with Melissa and your mom, picking up my parents,” managed Lisa in a whisper. “Over a hundred people died in that attack. Melissa was killed, too, Mike.”
Utterly astonished, Mike opened his mouth but could not say anything. An unspeakable pain started to build inside his body, threatening to hurl him back into darkness. His breathing became erratic and shallow. “How?”
“Suicide bombers,” she said quietly. “After the train came in, I left Melissa with my parents inside the train station to bring the car around, and then…” Her voice trailed off. “They died instantly, Mike—Melissa, your mom, and my parents. The bombs were packed with nails. They didn’t stand a chance.”
Shock overtook Mike’s body. He felt like he was watching a tragedy that was happening to somebody else—to some other family. Entirely numb, Mike asked, “And the baby?”
“After I heard the explosion, I lost my head, Mike. I was hit by a taxi when I tried to run back into the train station. They took me to the hospital, but it was too late. Our baby was gone. Chloe was gone.” Lisa’s sobs wracked her body. “I’m so sorry, Mike. I’m so sorry…”
“Shush, baby, shush,” Mike soothed, smoothing her hair even as his heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest cavity. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
Lisa, emotionally exhausted, collapsed on the bed while repeating over and over how sorry she was. For the next hour, she cried helplessly in her husband’s arms. Mike stood fast, fighting to remain strong for the woman he so deeply loved. But he already knew that he would remember this hospital visit forever.
Everything, all that he held dear, had changed for him. Nothing would ever be the same.
―
Mike opened his eyes the next morning, feeling disoriented. He looked around blankly, only to realize he was still in his room at the hospital. So, it hadn’t all been a terrible nightmare.
His wife, curled up against him under the white hospital bed sheet, was breathing deeply. He debated if he should wake her but decided against it. Now that he was awake, he was plunged into despair again. How could his life have changed so drastically? How could someone kill his two children, his in-laws, and his mother in some senseless act?
He knew that the empty space his family’s deaths had left in his life would never be filled.
Feeling movement, Mike noticed that his wife was staring up at him.
“It’s so good to have you back, honey,” she told him. “When you were in a coma, I felt so alone…” She trailed off. Whatever dark thought she had made her sit up in the bed. “I think we should eat something. Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” Mike answered. With the news he’d learned the day before, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have an appetite again. “All I really want is some answers.”
“I know, Mike. But you need your strength. I’ll go downstairs and pick up a few things, and after we eat I’ll tell you everything I know, okay? I’ll be back shortly.” Lisa kissed her husband on the forehead and left the room.
He knew that his wife was right about regaining his strength. The day before, he’d tried to walk to the bathroom by himself, but his legs had collapsed under him. Lisa had needed to support him the whole way. By the time he’d gotten back to the bed, he was exhausted.
Lisa returned fifteen minutes later with a freshly baked blueberry muffin, two cups of applesauce, and two small bowls of vanilla yogurt. The muffin was still warm and smelled good. Mike felt guilty when his stomach told him he was hungry.
As if she’d been reading his mind, Lisa said, “Your body will appreciate it, you know. You’re not yet ready for a muffin, but the applesauce and yogurt should do the trick. I’m sure you’re sick of having nothing but meds and mashed potatoes, or whatever else they put in all those tubes.” Her lame attempt at a joke fell flat, for he could see the sadness in her eyes.
Mike rewarded her effort to make him feel better with a weak smile. He immediately regretted it, as his face burned with pain. “I wish we could go back in the past, but we can’t; we never will,” he said tenderly, trying to comfort her. “I don’t know what plans God has in reserve for us or what the future will be like, but it’s important that you know this—I love you, and I’m grateful I didn’t lose you.”
“I wonder how you can say that, Mike,” Lisa replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What do you mean?” Mike was surprised by the curt retort.
“That you choose not to say it aloud is understandable, even admirable, I might add, but you and I both know that I’m responsible for our daughters’ deaths,” Lisa said glumly.
Mike was lost. He could see she was upset but couldn’t understand her reasoning.” Why are you saying that, Lisa? Surely you recognize you’re not responsible for the death of Melissa and Chloe. By that token, I am responsible for the dozens of innocents k
illed at the airport. It doesn’t work this way, baby.”
Whatever evil mood had overtaken her erupted with his comment. “Don’t ever compare people we didn’t know with Melissa and Chloe, understood?” she shouted.
“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to—” he said, trying to defuse the situation.
“Don’t honey me, Mike,” Lisa went on, still fierce. “I can sense it, you know?”
“Sense what?” asked Mike, confused.
“How you feel about me.” His blank face in reply only inflamed her more. “How detached you seem to be from all of this. You didn’t even shed a tear yet!”
“I want to be strong for you, Lisa,” Mike said, reaching for her hands. “That’s all.”
“Nah, I don’t think so.” Lisa was shaking her head. She moved back, out of reach. “You want to know what I think?”
“I’m not sure I do,” Mike said, knowing that the situation was spiraling out of control. He couldn’t remember his wife losing her temper like this before. For a few seconds, Lisa’s cold eyes locked with his.
“Whatever,” she said finally.
They finished their meal in silence, with Mike trying to make sense of what had just happened. A part of him wanted to comfort his grieving wife. Yet another part deeply resented that she was taking her grief out on him. What had he done to deserve that?
―
“Okay, Lisa, why don’t you start from the beginning,” said Mike, who was now sitting in a wheelchair that Christina had brought. It felt good to be out of bed at last. They’d just finished the yogurt, and Lisa had regained control over her emotions. Her aggressive behavior had disappeared as suddenly as it had come on.
I’ll have to talk about this to the doctor. Maybe he’ll be able to help her in a way I can’t.
“Let’s see if there’s another room we can use,” Lisa said, heading toward the door.
“Why? What’s wrong with this one?”
Lisa didn’t answer him. She stepped out of the room and returned a few moments later. “You ready to go on a road trip?” was all she said.
She wheeled him to a small office in an eerily quiet wing of the hospital. One of the plainclothes security guards had accompanied them and taken up a post outside the door along with another suited man who had been waiting for them when they arrived.
“Lisa, please tell me what I’ve missed,” begged Mike as soon as they’d closed the door behind them. “I feel like everybody knows what’s going on but me.”
Lisa nodded. “What do you want to know first?”
“For starters, what happened to Paul?” Mike asked.
Lisa shook her head. “Paul’s gone, Mike. He died the day you were shot. I’m so sorry. He was shot twice but was still able to kill the two terrorists that were on the airplane.”
“Hassan and Fadl?” Mike asked.
Lisa nodded. “He died a hero, Mike. He did what he was trained to do. He never quit.”
“My God,” Mike said. “What about Mary?”
“After Paul’s funeral, she and the kids moved to her parents’ place in Seattle,” Lisa said.
How could it all have happened in a single day? He had lost his two children, his mother, his in-laws, and his best friend. He started shaking with barely controlled rage.
“And Zima?” he suddenly remembered. “She was there too, Lisa!”
“I know, Mike. I know.”
“Is she okay?” he pressed on.
“Yes. She’s fine. Shaken, but fine.”
“She did well, Lisa. She fought hard and saved countless lives. Did you speak to her?”
“No, Mike. I didn’t. Couldn’t.”
Mike looked perplexed. “Why not? You’ve known her for over ten years.”
Lisa didn’t reply. Her phone was vibrating. She reached into her pants pocket for her smartphone. “Dr. Lisa Walton speaking.”
Mike looked at her strangely. Dr. Lisa Walton?
“Yes, sir. No problem at all. I’ll let him know. We’re in a clean room. The guard outside the door knows where we are.” There was a pause. “Okay. See you soon,” she said before returning the phone to her pocket.
“What’s going on here, Lisa?” Mike asked, searching his wife’s eyes for answers.
“I guess I owe you an explanation,” said his wife. “That was Charles Mapother. He’s the man that you spoke with when you woke up yesterday. He’s leaving Washington now and should be here in twenty minutes. He wants to speak with you.”
“He’ll be here in twenty minutes? I thought DC was a good hour-and-a-half commute from Baltimore.”
“Well, it is…if you drive. He’s taking a helicopter.”
Mike narrowed his eyes at his wife.
“Who is this guy, anyway? I asked him that yesterday and he avoided my question.”
“He’s the director of the International Market Stabilization Institute. He’s my new boss, Mike.”
CHAPTER 12
Royal Canadian Mounted Police Headquarters
Ottawa, Canada
Zima Bernbaum could only shake her head in disbelief. How slow could these elevators really be? Moving from the ground floor to the third floor could take the better part of two minutes. But today the delay was welcomed. Since the shooting at the airport, she had been ordered to stay home. Of course, she’d received a commendation letter from the CSIS director, and numerous agents from both CSIS and the RCMP had stopped by to congratulate her on a job well done. She had smiled at them and thanked them for their support, but inside, Zima was torn apart. Her instinct was to move forward and forget the whole incident. Yet at the same time, she badly wanted to stick around and participate in the investigation.
She welcomed the phone call she had received this morning. The RCMP commissioner wanted to see her. She hadn’t allowed herself to speculate on the reasons of the call. She’d tied her hair in a bun, applied some makeup, and put on a pair of blue jeans with a red blouse. The drive from her downtown apartment to the RCMP headquarters had taken twenty minutes.
As the door of the elevator opened with a series of jerks, Zima saw the commissioner’s aide waiting for her. He was dressed in a nicely cut gray suit, and she immediately noticed his shoes. They were black and had been polished to a high shine like her father’s paratrooper jump boots.
“Good morning, Agent Bernbaum. How are you?” he said.
“I feel great. Thank you for asking,” she replied.
“Excellent,” said the assistant. “Follow me. Everyone is waiting for you.”
―
The office of the RCMP commissioner was vast and luxurious. It had previously belonged to the director of the JDS Uniphase campus. Acquired in 2006, the nine-hundred-thousand-square-foot complex, which included seven buildings linked by an atrium, a three-hundred-seat auditorium, a gym, and a gourmet kitchen, had cost over six hundred million dollars. To be fair to the commissioner, he wasn’t the one who had chosen his office. The Treasury Board had assigned it to him. When Zima entered the office, two men were waiting for her. She recognized both of them.
“Agent Bernbaum, it’s a real pleasure to meet you,” said Arthur Green, the Canadian energy minister.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” Zima said, accepting a cup of black coffee from the RCMP commissioner.
“Please have a seat,” continued the minister, sitting in one of the four armchairs set up around the coffee table.
“Thank you.”
“I assume you’re well rested, Zima?” asked the commissioner, taking a cautious sip of his steaming coffee.
“The last four weeks have been a blessing,” Zima replied, reaching for the sugar. “Nothing beats waking up late and watching television all day.”
Green and the commissioner looked at each other.
They are wondering if I’m yanking their chains or not.
Am I?
“Well,” the commissioner said, “I’m pleased to hear that.”
Zima poured a cloud of milk in her cup and used a silver spoon to add more sugar. “I’m ready to go back to work though.”
Green smiled and leaned back in his armchair.
“We were hoping you would feel that way,” said the commissioner. “Would you be interested in continuing to work with the RCMP for a few more months?”
Zima knew that if the commissioner was asking, he had already cleared it with the CSIS director. Furthermore, the energy minister’s presence indicated she was about to be tasked with something significant.
“I serve at your pleasure, sir,” said Zima. “As long as CSIS gave its consent, I’ll stay for as long as you need me.”
“Excellent,” Green said, standing up. “I had a feeling you’d say that.” He grabbed a folder he’d been keeping in a brown legal-size briefcase and gave it to Zima. “This package contains all the information you’ll need to prepare for your next assignment. I want you to read it thoroughly and to forward any requests or questions you might have directly to the commissioner.”
Zima could feel her excitement growing.
This is why I joined the CSIS. But also why I have to lie to my family, my friends, and everyone I care about. And probably why I’m still single…
She opened the file and quickly scanned the first few pages.
“I’m going to France?” she said, trying to keep her enthusiasm in check.
C’mon, Zima. Stay professional, she ordered herself. They’ll think twice about sending you if they see how excited you are.
“Yes,” said Green. “I’ll let the commissioner give you a brief overview of what will happen.”
The RCMP commissioner placed his empty cup on the table. He then leaned in toward Zima. “What we’re about to discuss doesn’t leave this room. Understood?”
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