by Terry Toler
I felt completely numb. I could hear her words, but they weren’t registering.
“Alex,” she said gently. “We need to get you out of your clothes.”
She helped me pull off the shirt. Then my shorts. Jamie walked into the bathroom and returned with a robe. She put it around me.
“Do you want to take a shower first?” she asked.
“No. You go ahead. I want to watch the news.”
“Are you okay?” she asked hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if she should leave me alone.
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, really tightly, to try and loosen them up.
“I’m okay,” I repeated. “Go get your shower. That’ll feel good.”
Jamie was gone for at least twenty minutes. When she returned, I was still in my funk, not feeling better at all. Worse, if that were possible. The news reports kept saying the same thing over and over again, so I turned down the sound and just stared at the screen. I kept reliving the events. Playing it over and over again like a movie in my head. Trying to figure out what I should’ve done differently.
Jamie came back in the room and sat next to me.
“Any more news?” she asked.
“No. They haven’t updated the condition of the woman.”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Alex. You did everything you could to save her life.” Jamie said the words kindly, and I appreciated them, but they weren’t true.
“You and I both know that’s not true,” I said roughly, speaking aloud what was in my head. “I should’ve listened to you. You knew the man was a terrorist, and I ignored it.”
“I didn’t know for sure. The man seemed strange to me, that’s all.”
“If I’d listened to you, that woman wouldn’t be in the hospital, near death.”
“Like you said, we’re not on a mission. We can’t be expected to spend our time seeking out threats. I could’ve confronted him too.”
“We’re always on a mission. God’s given us a gift. You knew that guy was bad news. That’s your discernment. We’re trained to spot threats and take them out. We were the only people on that subway who could’ve stopped him. And we didn’t. Now I have to live with that.”
“What would you have done?”
“Confronted him! Made him show me his hands.”
“Then what?”
“Made him show me what was in his pocket.”
“So… he shows you a knife. That’s not a crime.”
She had a point. I didn’t have the right to go around searching people because they looked suspicious to me. If I’m working a mission thread, that’s different. We’re authorized to take down anyone we deem a threat to the mission. As an ordinary citizen, Brad would’ve never wanted me to confront that man.
Neither of us said anything for a good minute. Jamie kept alternating between rubbing my shoulder and stroking my hair. I could feel the difference in our relationship. Even though we’d only been married a little over a day, we were closer. More one flesh, like the Bible says, even though we hadn’t yet consummated things. Something I hadn’t thought about since the event happened.
“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “But… why does this feel so different?”
“What do you mean?”
I turned to face her. “We see innocent people hurt and killed all the time. It comes with the job. This time it feels different.”
“It feels the same to me.”
“I don’t know. I’ve always been good at compartmentalizing my feelings. All the bad stuff gets locked in a vault. I guess… since we weren’t on a mission, this is affecting me like it would if I were a normal citizen. I don’t think I’m making any sense.”
“No. You are. I get that. For me, it always affects me the same way. I’ll never get used to the evil in the world. That there are people who would attack an innocent woman with a small child like that. It’s so senseless.”
“Despicable.”
“That’s why we put ourselves through this. For them. The problem is that we can’t save everyone. Every victim is hard for me too. Even now, I want to go out and knock some heads together and save somebody. All over London there are girls in sex slavery. Right this very minute. And where am I? I’m in a five-star hotel, with my new husband, who I’m dying to make love to. Those girls are going through hell. Why am I so lucky? I have a great life with you.”
The mention of her wanting to make love to me, sent a wave of desire through my body. I tamped it down. It didn’t seem like the right time.
“The grace of God, I guess.”
“For sure.”
“I’m going to take a shower. That’ll make me feel better.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Jamie said, with a glimmer in her eye.
I knew what she meant.
That didn’t make me go any faster. The hot shower felt so good I didn’t want to get out. The water soothed some of the pain I was feeling. The luxury shower had several different pulsating features. It felt like I was standing up in a jacuzzi.
Even then, it couldn’t take away all the pain. The soap scrubbed off the blood on the outside but couldn’t fully erase the sorrow I felt on the inside. That would take time, I decided. Being with my wife for the first time would go a long way to helping me recover.
While I felt refreshed somewhat, I was still exhausted. The hot water had relaxed me to the point that I was suddenly sleepy. It had been nearly thirty hours since I had closed my eyes and slept.
Once I was dry, I slipped the bathrobe back on. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I stopped in my tracks.
Jamie had tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She pointed to the television screen. The sound was on. The headline on the screen in bold red letters blared in my head like an ambulance siren.
ONE PERSON DEAD FROM KNIFE ATTACK ON LONDON TUBE.
6
“I’m so sorry, Alex,” Jamie said.
She stood from the edge of the bed and was now next to me, her arm wrapped around mine as she tried to comfort me. I’d just learned that the woman on the subway platform had died.
It felt like a knife had been thrust deep into my heart as well. I didn’t remember feeling such pain.
When I tasted blood, I realized I was biting my lip. My lame attempt at fighting back the tears so Jamie wouldn’t see me cry. Why I thought that was necessary, I hadn’t a clue. Jamie knew what I was feeling as much as I did. I’m sure she felt it herself.
Remorse. Anger. Sadness. Guilt. Rage.
I wanted to kill the man who did this.
Jamie must’ve sensed what I was thinking. “We have to let it go,” she said gently. “If we don’t, this will consume our honeymoon.”
“I want to find him,” I said, as I pulled my arm away from her and began pacing the room. “If I could get hold of the security footage, I might be able to hunt him down.”
“You know as well as I do that he’s disappeared. He’ll blend into the Muslim community and won’t come out for weeks. If he’s still in the country.”
“We have to do something.”
“Let the authorities handle it. Like you said, we’re not on a mission. We just happened upon that attack.”
Jamie stood next to me again. She stopped me from pacing. She held my arms still.
“Listen to me,” she said firmly. “That man was going to knife somebody.”
“I could’ve stopped it.”
“What if we had gotten on a different subway car? The attack would’ve taken place anyway. It’s not our fault.”
What she said was true. I hadn’t even thought about that. The man would’ve attacked someone whether we were there or not. If I let it, I could become obsessed with finding him and ruin our honeymoon.
Her words eased my tension somewhat. I pulled her closer to me. This was where our marriage was so meaningful. In our line of work, we saw the highest highs and lowest lows
imaginable. We saw evil and destruction at its most heinous levels. Death was a way of life for us. Most people dealt with life and death matters a few times in their lifetimes. We dealt with it on almost every mission. Most of the time, there was no time to grieve any loss of life. We felt lucky we weren’t the ones killed. We knew that in a few days we had to face the same death and danger all over again.
Curly always said we shouldn’t get emotionally involved in the victims. He drilled in us to stay emotionally unattached to whatever happened. The truth was that had we been on a different subway car, we’d see the news reports of a subway knife attack and be unemotional about it. Maybe slightly angry and sad, but not devastated. Like how I felt now.
What happened was a matter of chance. Bad luck had us on the same car as the assailant and the woman with the child. Maybe God put us there to stop it and we failed. Whether chance or divine providence, I couldn’t do anything about it now.
Curly also said, everyone dies eventually, but not everyone really lives. Meaning don’t spend one second on things you can’t control. I was usually good about tamping down my feelings. For some reason, this death was hitting me hard.
I can’t let it affect our honeymoon. That’s not fair to Jamie.
“What do you want to do?” I asked her.
“There’s nothing we can do. I don’t think we should go hunting for the attacker.”
“That’s not what I meant. I agree with you. What do you want to do now?”
“I think we should get some sleep,” she said. “I’m exhausted. I know you are too.”
“I don’t think I can sleep. But you go ahead.”
“I’m going to stay up with you.”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m worried about you,” she said.
“I’ll be okay,” I said more strongly. “It’s just going to take a few minutes to get over the shock of it.”
The remote to the television was on the bed, and I picked it up and roughly turned off the set. All the news was doing was reminding me of something I now had to forget. And quickly.
Easier said than done.
Much easier if it wasn’t staring me in the face. I felt better when the screen went dark. Another thing I learned from Curly. Don’t obsessively replay the scenes again and again in your mind. Do your analysis, learn from it, and move on. The subway car analysis was easy. I should’ve confronted the man and made him show me his hands.
Nothing I could do about that now. Close the file. It was as simple as that. I wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
Rehashing it again in my mind was a waste of energy. Jamie was right, I needed to focus on her and our honeymoon. What I really wanted to do was to be close to her and make love, but it didn’t seem right.
“If we’re not going to sleep,” I said, “then let’s get dressed, go shopping, go to the tea at Kensington Palace, and get this honeymoon started. That’ll take our mind off of things.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Jamie said excitedly as she bolted into action and began going through her backpack to get out a change of clothes.
“Let’s stop by the gift shop and get some energy drinks,” I said. “I’m going to need something to keep me going.”
Jamie walked over and planted a big kiss on my lips. “There’s you some energy,” she said.
A jolt of adrenaline shot through me like a B-12 shot.
“There’s more of that for you later,” she said with a sly grin.
At that moment, I had enough energy in me that I felt like I could run a marathon.
***
Iran
Pok panicked.
He hadn’t expected Alex and his wife to exit the hotel so quickly. His team wasn’t prepared. He was kicking himself for relaxing. If he had blinked, he would’ve missed them leaving. By chance, he saw them walk out and get into a cab.
A lapse in judgment. Pok was busy gloating about the success of the first mission. Now, he was beside himself for fear that they wouldn’t be able to pull off another knife attack. He desperately wanted to duplicate the success of the subway attack.
“Where did they go?” Pok shouted to his room full of observers.
No one responded.
“Which cab did they get in?” he asked urgently.
“Does anyone have eyes on them?”
No matter how many times he repeated the question, no one could answer. Pok picked up a notebook and threw it across the room.
“I want you to find them. And find them now!”
He knew how difficult that would be.
They could be anywhere.
***
Kensington Palace Pavilion
Kensington Gardens
Orangery Tea Room
After shopping, we went back to the hotel and changed into nicer clothes. Then we rushed over to Kensington Palace so we could take the tour of the castle before our reservation at three for afternoon tea. A nagging ache in my heart reminded me of the earlier day’s events, but I was feeling better. Jamie had a way of doing that to me.
Security was tight at the Palace. Not only was it a tourist attraction, but it was also the personal residence of the Prince of Wales. His niece was getting married that weekend and the Palace grounds were bustling with activity.
Jamie and I acted like a couple of school kids. Joking. Laughing. Kidding. Acting silly even.
“The rest of the day, we’re only allowed to speak in a British accent,” Jamie had said earlier while we were shopping.
Jamie was good at it. I couldn’t tell the difference between her and the real Brits. Me… I was horrible. Jamie said my accent was a cross between an Irish brogue, an Australian, and a Hungarian gypsy.
She changed the rules of the game. “Don’t let anyone else hear you but me,” she insisted right before we entered the tearoom. “You sound funny.”
“I’m glad I amuse you,” I said.
Seeing her smile and laugh released the tension deep inside of me. “I’m going to try my accent on the waitress and see what she thinks,” I said after we were led to our table.
“Don’t you dare!” Jamie retorted. “You let me do the talking.”
“I think I sound like Sean Connery. You know James Bond.”
A little teacup was on our table. I held it up, “I would like a little shot of tea,” I said in my mutt of an accent.
“That doesn’t sound like Sean Connery. It sounds more like Sean Penn.”
We were so tired, we were giggling.
“Let me do the ordering,” Jamie said, laughing so hard she was almost crying.
I know I had a mischievous grin on my face, by the way she refused to make eye contact with me. Every time she’d see me, she’d burst into laughter. So, she kept her head to the side, only glancing at me out of the corner of one eye.
When the waitress approached, Jamie put on a friendly but serious face giving me one last glare which meant not to say anything.
“We’ll have the afternoon tea sandwiches,” she said. Not in a British accent, but in a formal, elegant way. “We’ll also have the scones with welsh butter. And the ones filled with cream and jam.”
“We also have a selection of afternoon tea cakes,” the waitress said.
“That would be splendid,” I chimed in, unable to keep from laughing.
Jamie shushed me.
The waitress seemed to be humoring me. “Would you like tea or coffee, sir?”
“Yes, please!” I almost sprayed water from my nose as I had just taken a sip and tried to contain my laughter.
She’s going to think we’re drunk.
“She meant do you want either or?” Jamie asked like a mother would say to her child.
“I’ll take either.” For some reason that seemed funny to me, and I started giggling again.
“You need to choose one or the other,” the waitress said with a grin.
“This is afternoon tea, so I must have tea,” I said in my most serious British, whatever it was, voic
e.
I felt punch drunk. Like I was so tired, I wasn’t tired anymore. All the caffeine from the energy drinks had worn off, and I was going on adrenaline again. Coffee didn’t seem like a good idea.
“I’ll have a glass of sparkling wine,” Jamie said.
“Can I get a martini, shaken not stirred?” I said in my fake Sean Connery voice.
Jamie rolled her eyes.
“Ignore him,” Jamie said to the waitress. “Just bring him some tea to start.”
When the waitress left, I said, “I think she liked my British accent.”
“I think she thought you were ridiculous.”
“That’s rubbish!”
“Don’t embarrass me, Alex.”
I pulled out my phone and pulled up a search engine.
“What are you doing?” Jamie asked.
“Looking up British slang words.”
“This should be good,” Jamie said sarcastically. “By the way. Take your elbows off the table. This is not a local diner. You’re at Kensington Palace.”
Jamie leaned toward me and said slightly above a whisper. “Pretend you’re having tea with the Queen. Act like you belong here. I don’t want people thinking I’m married to a Neanderthal.”
I ignored the comment and found a list.
“Chirpse means a flirt,” I blurted out.
“You certainly are a chirpse.”
“Tosspot is a fool. Tool is an idiot.”
“Three for three. Are you sure these aren’t slang words for you?”
This time I rolled my eyes.
“Sussed means to discover someone’s true nature.”
“I can relate to that,” Jamie said this time laughing out loud. “I’m learning something new about my husband by the minute.”
“You’re bashy,” I said.
“What does that mean?”
“Nice to look at.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re also a Yats.”
“Okay. I’ll play your game. What’s a Yats?”
“A female.”
“I’m definitely that as well.”
The lady brought our tea about that time and Jamie’s glass of wine.
“You’re also trollied,” I said, after the waitress left. Jamie seemed to be tiring of the game.