by Jake Devlin
“Wibrations? Ja, I underschtand zat. But vat about ze matt?”
“It helped dampen 'em.”
“Dampen? Vat is zat?”
“What?”
“Vat is zat vort? Dampen?”
“Oh. Soften 'em, make the vibrations less – uh, less bouncy, so like this and not this.”
“Ja, okay, I got it. But vat does zat haf to do viz ze matt?”
“It's what did it. A bigger and thicker one.”
“Vat?”
“A bigger, thicker mat.”
“Vait, vait. Matt has no sickness.”
“What? Yeah, it does; they all carry germs, bacteria and viruses.”
“Wiruses? Nein, nein. Wiruses can only come vunce you schtart to run an infected program.”
“What? No, they're always here, right under the gizmo.”
“Ja, ja; it always underlies the machine.”
“Yeah, we know that. So?”
“So vizzout ze matt, nussing vould vork.”
“No, Doc, it would work, but only until the vibrations shut it off.”
“Wibrations again. Fluck ze wibrations. I am saying zat vizzout ze matt, ze” –
“Yeah, the mat, this thing right here.”
“Zat sing? Zat's a pad, not a matt.”
“Pad, mat, same thing.”
“Nein, nein. Zat pad is real; ze matt is seoretical.”
“What?”
“Matt is seoretical.”
“No, it's not; it's real. And it's also called a pad.”
“Wait a minute, guys. Both of you.”
“What?”
“Vat?”
“What we got here is a failure of communications. You're not listening to each other.”
“Vat? No, I” –
“What? No, I” –
“Hold it, both of you! Just hold it! Doc, when you say 'matt,' what do you mean?”
“Ze matt, ze eqvations, ze” –
“The mathematics?”
“Ja, ja, mattematics, matt.”
“Greg, hear that? Mathematics, matt, not pad, mat.”
“Oh.”
“Ach, ich verstehe jetzt.”
“What?”
“Sorry. Now I underschtand. A mat is a pad, zis sing here.”
“Yeah, Doc, you got it. Greg?”
“And matt is mathematics.”
“Good. So now let's get on with getting Dr. French- – ah, Dr. Ford settled in. We've got a lot of work ahead of us.”
“It'll be good working with you again, Doc. And I'll try to listen more carefully.”
“I vill, too. It vill be good vorking viz you two, too. Und zis is a vundergood laboratory.”
- 93 -
June 18, 2013
8:13 p.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“The bullet hit me in the shoulder and spun me around and down to the ground.
“But what happened next – oh, god -- what happened next is the really painful part. As I fell, I saw Zach pointing his smoking weapon at me, and I knew at that moment that he was the mole, and the gun in my hand went off and I – and I – I watched his head explode, hair, bone and brains scattering behind him, just as he fired again. Then I blacked out.
“Oh, god. I need more tissues; sorry.”
“No problem, Pam; take your time. And let me get you some more wine, okay?”
“That'd be nice, Jake; thanks.”
“To you, Pam.”
“And to you. Ahhh, that's good.”
“Want to take a break?”
“Nope; I want to get this all out.”
“Okay; but take your time, okay?”
“I'm good.
“When I woke up, I was in the helo, and the first thing I saw was JJ's worried face looking down at me. As soon as I opened my eyes, she squeezed my hand and smiled.
“'You're gonna be okay, sis,' she said. I could hardly hear her over the helo's engine, but I knew what she was saying.
“'Zach?' I asked; she shook her head, and I blacked out again.
“When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed in Greece, mostly zonked out on painkillers, but my shoulder still hurt like hell. And JJ was squeezing my other hand, tears running down her face.”
“Relief?”
“Yeah. I guess the operation was touch-and-go, and I was in and out of consciousness for a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?”
“Yeah.”
“Geez.”
“Then months of rehab, and after that, I resigned from the CIA and went over to the Secret Service.
“But I've had doubts and questions that've tormented me ever since that afternoon.”
“Like was Zach or Nick the mole.”
“Yeah. And was it Zach who shot me, and was it my bullet that killed him?”
“And what about the third guy who was after you?”
“Right. Did Zach shoot him when I saw him pointing his weapon in my direction? Did he miss and hit me by accident? Could I have misread all that?”
“Did JJ see any of it?”
“Nope; she got there about a minute later, just before the helo landed. She'd somehow gotten rid of her three guys; she's never really said how she did it, whether she lost 'em or killed 'em.
“And even though the helo crew got Zach's body out of there with me and JJ, there was no bullet to compare, and the gun I'd taken didn't come with us. My wound was a through-and-through, so no ballistics to see if that had come from Zach's gun, which also got left behind.”
“So lots of unanswered questions.”
“Yeah. So no matter what we find out about the mole, whether it was Nick or Zach, I'll never have real closure. I either had a traitor as a husband or I was set up and killed an innocent man I had loved.”
- 94 -
July 2, 2014
2:38 p.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“Goddammit!”
“What's wrong now, Sonya?”
“They've closed the fuckin' showers again!”
“Again? Really?”
“Yeah, really. Look up there. See the yellow tape around the poles?”
“Uh – oh, yup. Why'd they shut 'em off?”
“The fuckin' faucet on one of 'em is leaking, so they closed off both of 'em … AND the foot-washing ones, too. Been closed all day, and we need 'em to wash off the fuckin' sea lice.”
“The what?”
“Sea lice. When the water gets this warm, they get inside our suits and sting, so we gotta use fresh water to get rid of 'em. I shower every time I get outa the Gulf. And the bastards have even banned soap and shampoo! Fuckers!”
“Didn't they close 'em last week … or two weeks ago?”
“I think it was two weeks ago, Gordy.”
“I think you're right, Ro. So what's the problem?”
“It's those fuckin' auto-shutoff faucets; they don't work for shit. And they break down all the time.”
“All the time, Sonya?”
“Well, way too often. I remember back in the '90s, they had the old regular faucets, twist on, twist off, easy, and they hardly ever broke.”
“But I heard that people were leaving 'em on, and the county thought they were wasting a lot of water.”
“Just a few fuckin' idiots, Rosemary. And it sure wasn't that much water, compared to what it's got to be costing 'em for the fuckin' plumbers and replacement parts.”
“And the inconvenience to the public.”
“Right, Gordy; just what those fuckers usually do.”
“Maybe if the city takes over from the county, they'll go back to the old faucets.”
“The city – what? They want to take over?”
“Yeah; at least that's what I read a while ago in the paper.”
“First I've heard about that, Ro.”
“I think they're negotiating, if I remember the article right.”
“Hmm.”
“Maybe you oughta tell somebody in the city about your i
dea for solar heating the water.”
“What was that?”
“Just an idea I had, Sonya. Split the water supply, make a radiator type thing out of PVC pipe, paint it black so the sun'll heat the water, and put two faucets in for each shower head, one for cold, one for hot, so people can mix in some warm water, especially in the winter. Maybe the city'll be more amenable than the county was.”
“Wanna bet? They're all assholes.”
“Oh, c'mon, Sonya; not all of 'em. You're overgeneralizing.”
“C'mon, Gordy. Everybody overgeneralizes.”
“What? Say that again.”
“Everybody overgeneralizes.”
“Did you hear what you just said?”
“Yeah. What?”
“Oh, nothing; never mind.”
“Oh. Gotta run. See ya.”
“Bye. Did you get that, Ro?”
“Sure did. Geez.”
- 95 -
June 18, 2013
9:53 p.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“Ahhh, ohhh, ahhh. Mmm.”
“Feeling better?”
“Oh, yeah; wonderful. But aren't your hands getting tired?”
“Don't worry about it, Pam; they're fine.”
“How's your back?”
“Better; still a little sore, but okay.”
“How about if we swap?”
“Maybe later, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Want me to turn up the jets, change the pulse rate?”
“Nope; it's all good.”
“Water temp okay?”
“Perfect. Ahhh – oh, excuse me.”
“Ahhh – oh, me, too. Sleepy?”
“Guess so.”
“Been a long day – oh, damn; I forgot to order a new cushion.”
“No problem, Jake. I can patch it up easy.”
“You wanna do that?”
“Sure; remember, I've got that one almost trained. I'll give it a try in the morning. Ahhh – oh, excuse me again.”
“Ahhh – those are contagious, aren't they?”
“Yeah; but we're both pretty tired.”
“Well, I just might be able to come up with a solution for that.”
“Yeah? And what might that be, pray tell?”
“Let's dry off and get up to bed.”
“Mmm.”
- 96 -
July 17, 2014
9:48 a.m. local time
Rome, Italy
“I hate to say it, Amber, but I think we need to pass on that one. It needs someone a lot more experienced; it's only been a year and we've only done six jobs. And you know how squeamish Carie got after the second one. Yeah, I know, but it did get pretty weird really fast. Never seen a body melt like that since the first Illinois Jones movie. And all that blood.
“Yeah, I know, Doc Logan's good, helped her through that – me, too, of course – really well, and she's been just fine on the last four. But she's been shying away from using any of the long-range beam weapons. She likes to stick with a gun. Straightforward and simple, face-to-face; bang, bang, done. Maybe with a silencer; pfft, pfft, done.
“But even with an LRBW, I can't think of any way we could get at this guy. He's got so many guards around him, and the whole army, and his popularity is sky-high with his people. Maybe they should just nuke the Kremlin while he's in it. No, I know; just a thought.
“But on the ISIS guy, we can do that one, I'm sure. We've had him on surveillance for weeks, and we're pretty sure he's in Mosul now. We also picked up some chatter that he and his senior advisers will be moving to Syria soon, Raqqa, so he should be doable, even though he's pretty well protected there, too. Yeah, a huge ego, one of the biggest, even to the point of declaring himself the new Caliph.
“Yeah, even with that dithering president, I'll bet they're targeting him with drones. So we'll need to move fast to get him first.
“Yeah, full makeover and clothing, burka for Carie, beard and robes for me. We'll go in by car from Turkey, brother and sister, get into his HQ and take him out. No, it can be that simple; really.”
- 97 -
June 19, 2013
8:17 a.m. local time
St. Tropez, France
“G'morning, sleepyhead.”
“Hi, ninja.”
“Ninja?”
“You snuck outa bed quieter than a mouse.”
“Didn't want to wake you; you looked so peaceful.”
“I did? Probably exhausted from the workout we had last night.”
“Yeah; you were especially active and attentive.”
“Why, thank yuh, ma'am.”
“You're quite welcome, suh.
“So what d'ya think? Look okay?”
“Like new. Still comfy?”
“Just like I've been training it.”
“Great.”
“I haven't done anything about the bullet or the crack it left in the tile, but” –
“Don't worry about it, Pam. Maybe we'll leave it there, just as a reminder.”
“Of what?”
“That sometimes life intrudes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Sometimes we never get closure.”
“Ah.”
“I know I have to really accept that in here, not just up here. And I just haven't gotten there yet.”
“You will, Pam, you will. Just let it happen; don't push it.”
“Hard not to; I want to be over it and not let it interfere.”
“You're doing fine, Pam, just fine.”
“You ever had anything like that, Jake? I mean, you don't seem to have any problems dealing with – with” –
“With all the assassinations I've done or had done?”
“Well, that, too, but I was thinking about any situations where you didn't get closure.”
“Oh. Hmm. I'll have to think about that. Nothing comes to mind right now. But I'm sure there must be some.”
“And the assassinations?”
“Never had a problem with those, other than right after my second one. But I was still brainwashed back then and the CIA shrink got me through that pretty quickly.
“After that, I gradually dealt with it as 'just business,' even though it took some I guess you'd call it rationalization to justify it to myself. In part, I realized that if we didn't take a job, someone else would, and the target would be dead either way. And if I was really concerned about the target, we might disappear him or her instead, as long as they were sure to stay disappeared.
“But I gotta say that when you see the life drain out of a target's eyes, it's a very intimate moment. And nobody has ever captured that moment realistically in any movie or TV show, at least none that I've ever seen. You've got to see it for yourself to really understand it.”
“I know what you mean, Jake. I've seen it many times, and you're exactly right.”
“And then you have to find some way to deal with that, put it in some kind of perspective.”
“We were taught to compartmentalize.”
“Me, too. But it's more than that; it's an emotional, philosophical and some might say spiritual adjustment. Not an easy process once you start it.”
“And I'd guess everybody does it differently.”
“Got that right, Pam. Some assassins just dehumanize their targets, treat 'em as commodities, objects; I did that for a while, early on. But after my fortieth or fiftieth hit, I let the pendulum swing the other way and over-personalized 'em; that created some other kinds of problems, like hesitation. But after my hundredth or so, I managed to get it all settled somewhere in the middle, found a balance that worked for me.
“It was toughest when the target was someone I knew earlier, in some other context.”
“Woah; never happened to me.”
“Only eleven times for me, and I gave seven of 'em the option of disappearing, and all of 'em took it.”
“And the other four?”
“They deser
ved to die, and a lot more painfully than I let them.”
- 98 -
July 20, 2014
9:07 a.m. local time
Bonita Beach, Florida
“So with over seven billion people in the – woah! What the hell?”
“What, Gordy?”
“Something just bumped my leg.”
“Seaweed?”
“No, Ro; something bigger, a lot bigger!”
“Shark?”
“Don't think so; they're usually a lot further out. And this felt sorta like rubber, not sandpaper like a shark.”
“Woah! Look at the dolphin, Cocheta!”
“Where, Mommy?”
“Right there, churning the water.”
“Gordy!”
“What?”
“Behind you. A dolphin.”
“Ah-ha.”
“Wow, look at him go, Mommy!”
“Woah, never seen one that close to shore. And so fast!”
“Must be feeding, Ro.”
“It's big.”
“Not that big, Ro; maybe only five, six feet.”
“Is that what bumped you?”
“I'd bet it was.”
“But don't they have sonar?”
“Probably chasing a fish, misjudged the distance between us. And it was just a glancing bump, not quite a graze, but not full on.”
“Where'd it get you?”
“Right here, just above the knee. Can't see any blood or scrape marks. Good.”
“Lucky it wasn't full on; coulda broken your leg.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“And going fast.”
“Yup, Ro. Looks like it's after another one.”
“Billy Kevin, get outa the water, now! Shark!”
“What?”
“Get outa the water, and do it now!”
“Hey, lady, it's a dolphin, not a shark!”
“Yeah? So?
“Billy Kevin, get outa the water, now! Dolphin!”
“Oh, Ma, I love dolphins. Can't I” –
“No, ya cain't! Get yo' ass out NOW!”
“Maaaa” –
“I said NOW! Goddammit, you want another whuppin'?”
“I'm coming, I'm coming. Sheesh.”
“Well, Ro, there's another kid who's gonna need a lot of therapy when he grows up.”
