by Robin Mahle
She didn’t know how much time passed from that moment until now. Celeste safeguarded the children, making sure they hadn’t seen what had happened on the news. Lacy insisted they not know anything of it until she could find Jay and be sure he was all right.
The logical step was to come here, to this hospital. It was the closest to the mall and after some wasted time trying to gain the attention of someone who could help, she managed to pull a nurse aside and beg for her assistance. The hospital was manic as people arrived one after the other with various injuries—some severe, some minor.
The nurse checked the computer system and Jay’s name had not come up.
“Please, can you just check the ER?” Lacy had asked. “He has to be here.”
The nurse had found him and now Jay was in surgery and she had no idea if he would pull through.
“Mrs. Merrick?” A doctor entered the room and all eyes shifted to him until he’d called for Lacy. Their collective disappointment was all too apparent.
“I’m Mrs. Merrick.” Lacy rose from the chair and her heart leapt into her throat. “Is my husband okay?”
The doctor pulled her aside. “Your husband has suffered extensive internal damage. His spleen has been removed along with part of his liver. The force of the blast…” He trailed off for a moment. “They’ve managed to stop the bleeding, but it’s very touch and go right now.”
Lacy raised her hand to her mouth in shock. “Can I see him—please?”
“I’m afraid he’s not awake, Mrs. Merrick, and it may be a while.” The doctor glanced into the corridor. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need to get back. There are still many people who need my help.”
Lacy’s blank stare finally broke as she nodded to the doctor. All she could do now was wait.
♦♦♦
“Mrs. Merrick?”
Lacy opened her eyes, which had grown swollen with tears, and blinked a few times as they cleared to see a nurse standing in front of her. “Is Jay awake?” She lowered her legs to the floor and sat upright.
“Yes, you can see him now.”
To hear that he was alive made her heart soar. Lacy followed the nurse to the ICU recovery area. The chaos had settled, but people were still being brought in and Lacy hadn’t a clue as to how long she’d been there.
The nurse pulled back the curtain. “Just a few minutes, okay? He needs to rest.”
Lacy nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to see Jay wrapped in bandages with wires sticking out of him. He was in bad shape, but he was alive. “Hi, baby.” The tears spilled as she spoke.
“I’m okay.” His tone was soft and quiet, hardly noticeable. “Don’t cry.”
This only made her cry harder. “What were you doing at the mall, sweetheart?” She didn’t know why she asked that question because none of it mattered. Her husband was here and he was alive. “Never mind. I’m just happy to hear your voice and look into your eyes.”
She reached for his hand.
“What about the boy?”
“What boy, honey?”
“The boy I tried to save.” His bandaged faced twitched as his eyes squinted with pain.
“I—I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out.”
“How many dead?”
“Last update was 234. Lots of people injured.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe you were there. I’m so grateful you’re alive.”
He tried to sit up but hardly moved an inch. “I need my bag.”
“Lie down, baby. You’re not supposed to be moving.” She began to search around his bed and the chair next to him but saw none of his personal belongings. “I don’t know where they’ve put your things. But there’s nothing you should be worrying about right now, okay? Please, just try to rest.”
“I need my bag.” Jay lifted his head, but the pain was too great and it shot across his face. The monitors began to beep quickly.
“Honey, please. I’m sure they’ve got it somewhere. You shouldn’t be moving.” Lacy knew he always kept his laptop bag with him but couldn’t figure out why he needed it so badly right now. “Who was this boy? Do you know his name?” She tried to divert his attention for his own good.
“No. He was alone. I tried.” He cringed again.
“Okay, okay. You don’t need to explain now.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Just relax.” The monitors weren’t slowing. In fact, they were growing louder. Lacy began to look for a nurse. “Hey, is there anyone here who can help?” Her voice was shaky as she leaned beyond the curtain. “Hello? We need some help in here.”
The beeps sounding from the monitor turned flat. Lacy spun back and looked at Jay. His eyes had closed. “Jay? Honey?” Panic charged through her as she turned to the opening in the curtain again. “Help! Please, someone, help!”
Two nurses ran to her and pushed their way inside the tiny space.
“Please step aside, ma’am,” one of the nurses spoke. “Page Dr. Hines now!”
Lacy stepped back as the nurses worked, shouting codes and numbers and things she didn’t understand. Her body shuddered as she watched them work.
“Crash cart!” the nurse yelled.
A doctor soon rushed inside, rolling a device that Lacy recognized from television shows. Paddles and an electronic box. A defibrillator, she thought it was called.
“Can someone get her out of here?” the doctor demanded.
“Ma’am, let’s step outside so the doctor can do what he needs to do.” One of the nurses pushed Lacy back.
“No! That’s my husband in there! Please, I need to stay.”
“Ma’am, let them do their job—please.”
Lacy’s eyes raced back and forth as she stared at the curtain that was now closed. Please, please, God, don’t let him die. The nurse still held on to her so she wouldn’t push inside, which she most certainly would have done, if given the chance.
Now all she could hear were commands being shouted by the doctor, metal things dropping to the floor, nurses responding to the orders. It was too much. He was supposed to be okay. They said he just needed rest. They said more than that, but she didn’t want to hear it. And now this was happening.
“Time of death. 11:34 p.m.” The words came from someone behind the curtain.
The nurse turned to Lacy. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. If you’ll come with me.” She began to usher her out of the area.
“No. I have to see him. Please.” Lacy began to break away from the nurse’s grip.
“You can’t. Not right now. They’ll come and get you soon. I promise.” She again took hold of Lacy’s arms. “Please. We have to go now.”
Resigned, Lacy followed the nurse out of the room. She was in shock, having just spoken to her husband only moments ago and now he was gone; the victim of what was a presumed terrorist attack. An attack that she should have prevented.
“My husband asked about his bag,” Lacy began. “Can I get his belongings, please?” She needed something of his to hold. Something that would smell like him, something that he touched. This couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t have left her.
“Just have a seat in here and I’ll go find out where his things are. Again, I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
Lacy was alone in a room occupied by other victims’ families. As she glanced at the television mounted on the wall, she saw that the fires had been all but extinguished, but smoke soared in the night sky. It was approaching midnight and Lacy had just lost her best friend and the father of her children.
5
The order had come down only hours after the explosion, and in the middle of the night, amid the smoldering ashes of the bomb’s aftermath, a task force had been formed. Michelle Vogel was among the members of this new taskforce and now held a paper cup brimming with stale coffee to her lips while she sat down at the conference table at Headquarters. The coalition, which included her team, was responsible for collecting and reporting, and field agents, who were responsible for tac
tical and strategic analysis.
The Bureau was no stranger to conflicts between civilian support staff and agents. The FBI’s Directorate of Intelligence was formed in 2005 after the 9/11 Review Commission reports, and still had not been fully assimilated or recognized by the law enforcement side of the agency. But this time, as shock was still setting in, a harmony between the two sides arose.
Among those present were representatives from multiple FBI field offices who specialized in counterterrorism. One such agent was a man by the name of Will Caison. In only his second year at the Bureau, Will had shown great promise and, as such, had been removed from probationary status just months ago, slightly ahead of the usual two-year time frame.
Will came from the Louisville field office and sat next to his Supervisory Special Agent, Gabe Mendez, who was a highly experienced agent and had been involved in dismantling several terrorist plots since 9/11.
Movement in the corridor caught Michelle’s eye and she spotted Lacy walking past. The meeting had already commenced, but she immediately pushed up from the table while SSA Mendez was speaking. “Excuse me for a moment, please.”
Michelle pushed open the glass door and jogged to catch up with her. “Hey. What are you doing here?” She placed her hand on Lacy’s shoulder. “You didn’t need to come in. We’ve got this. How’s Jay doing?”
Lacy stopped cold and turned to face Michelle. “He’s gone.”
“Oh God. I’m so sorry. Last we spoke, he’d just come out of surgery.”
“There were—complications.”
Michelle closed her eyes and turned away for a moment. “Then you really shouldn’t be here, Lacy. Look at you. You’re exhausted and you should be with your family—your children.”
“The kids—they don’t know yet. I just couldn’t; not yet.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I couldn’t go home. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’ve been up all night? What can I do? How can I help?”
Lacy looked past her toward the conference room. “Who’s in there?”
“We’re part of a new task force. The D.C. field office, Richmond, Norfolk, and agents from the U.S. Joint Terrorism Task Force in Louisville.”
“Do they know anything yet? Do they know who did this?” Lacy’s eyes reddened, but she squeezed them shut to squelch her emotions.
“No. No one’s claimed responsibility. Not yet. Right now, we’re just beginning to gather information. I brought up the Baltimore findings. Everyone seems confident it’s linked to this.” Michelle’s face masked in sympathy. “Lacy, please, go home. There’s nothing you can do here. Everyone is pulling double duty to find out who’s responsible.”
“He tried to save a boy.” A tender smile played on her lips for just a moment. “I don’t know who the boy was or if he survived, but Jay tried to save him.”
“He was a good man, Lacy.”
“Yes, he was.” She looked again toward the conference room. “Who’s the field agent-in-charge? I need to collect Jay’s things, but the hospital says they don’t have them. Maybe someone found them at the site.”
“If you’d like, if you think it would help, you can sit in on this. Just to get a sense of where the investigation is headed. You don’t need to sit at the table and you won’t have to speak. I’ll just introduce you as the regional supervisor.”
So they’d given her the promotion after all. What the hell did it matter now? But Lacy wasn’t ready to go home. She couldn’t face her children and she couldn’t face herself because if it turned out she missed something… Another glance toward the people in the room and she decided maybe sitting in on the meeting would help. Maybe burying herself in her work was what she needed right now, hours after becoming a widow.
Michelle pressed her hand gently against Lacy’s back and led her through the corridor and into the conference room where it appeared there were some intense discussions. The eyes of the entire room fell upon the two as they entered.
“Pardon the interruption again,” Michelle began. “I just wanted to be sure our regional supervisor was included.” She turned to Lacy. “This is Lacy Merrick and she’ll just be observing.”
Lacy nodded to the others in the room and took a seat in a chair that rested against the sidewall. Their faces suggested she hadn’t done a very good job of hiding her emotions. Pity spread over each of them as if they knew what had happened.
“As I was saying,” SSA Mendez continued, “our first priority should be reviewing the data, which your team will provide, Ms. Vogel, and for Operations to conclude whether or not the device is tied to the spare remote found in Baltimore.”
“Do you believe this was a lone wolf attack?” Lacy interrupted.
“We don’t know anything yet, but from the latest briefing, a vehicle was found near the mall’s east entrance that was parked alongside the front of the Macy’s store. They’re working on identifying an owner. As I said, our priority is to collect as much information as we can to determine who might be responsible, whether it’s domestic or international terrorism. Several survivors have stated they heard people screaming the word ‘bomb,’ so while an accident hasn’t been ruled out yet, we still have to consider that remote possibility.”
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Agent Caison seemed to notice Lacy’s eyes begin to water once again.
“Ms. Merrick suffered the loss of a loved one in the explosion.” Michelle eyed Lacy with concern.
“Forgive my interruption. Please continue.” Lacy cleared her throat and steadied her sentiments.
Caison’s brow furrowed. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we continue?” Mendez was impatient, bordering on callous, but there was no time for compassion.
At the meeting’s conclusion, the team rose from their seats and conversation filled the room. As Lacy began to leave, Agent Caison approached. “I just wanted to say again how sorry I am for your loss. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Thank you, agent.” She’d wandered into the office with no real intentions except to avoid going home, but then recalled a reason. “Actually, yes, there is something you might be able to do. Do you know who I could speak to regarding any personal belongings that may have been found on scene?”
“I’m sorry, personal belongings? Yours?”
“No. My husband’s. Shortly before…” She paused. “He lost his laptop bag in the aftermath. Do you know who I could speak to about it, assuming it’s found intact? It’s just, well, all of our personal information was on it.”
“I’ll check with my SSA. He has the Ops contacts. I haven’t been out there yet, but we’ll be heading out in a while, when there’s enough light. Is there a number where I can reach you if someone knows anything about it?”
“Yes.” Lacy pulled a pen from her purse and tore off a scratch piece of paper from Will’s notebook and wrote down her cell number. “Thank you, Agent Caison.”
“Of course. And please, call me Will.”
“I’m Lacy. Thank you, Will.”
♦♦♦
Nova Investment’s US chief operating officer was set to make a statement to the press. He stood outside of the once-majestic retail mall that wasn’t much more than a pile of rubble amid charred remnants of various retail items. Tom Neville watched from the comfort of his office at the local Nova division in Fairfax.
He poured himself a scotch, neat, before walking to the large flat-screen mounted on his wall. Neville scarcely considered the impact this might have on the company. How it might keep shoppers away out of fear. Of course, he was head of cyber-security and nothing in his job description would have prevented this tragedy. An exoneration he felt was necessary to define.
The press conference was about to begin. COO David Hogan was flanked by what Neville believed must have been the top guys with the FBI. Their cheap suits were a dead giveaway. He tossed bac
k the rest of his drink and listened as his boss offered words of condolences to the families of the victims.
“We will be fitting metal detectors at every entrance of every one of our retail outlets,” Hogan went on to say.
Neville believed this was merely a measure to appease a nervous public because if a terrorist wanted in, metal detectors weren’t going to keep him out. He knew the schematics of that particular building and there were flaws. Many flaws that would expose all of their malls to the same risks. Still, it was something that the architects would have to deal with.
His ringing cell phone caught his attention and he returned to his desk. “Tom Neville.” He paused. “Yeah, I’m watching it now.” He glanced back at the television. “What? Are you shitting me? Jesus.” Neville lowered his glass. “No, no one told me. I should call Ballard and see how he’s doing. Those guys at Argus must be devastated.” The man on the other end continued while Neville looked on. “I wasn’t a fan of his, but I’m sorry as hell the guy died. I’d better go. Thanks for the heads up.”
He ended the call and immediately pressed Owen Ballard’s contact information. The line rang, but there was no answer. Neville considered driving to the Argus offices but thought that they might either be closed or not in the mood to entertain clients. “Damn.”
The news was distressing and he’d wanted to speak with Owen, especially considering that he and Jay Merrick were friends. But perhaps Owen would feel guilty about helping Neville. He began to consider the possibility that Owen’s guilt over something for which he had no control might make him reconsider their arrangement. That was something he couldn’t allow to happen.
♦♦♦
Owen stood on the balcony of his bedroom, overlooking the exclusive golf course that was almost empty. It was Saturday morning and the course should have been heaving with people, especially during this time of year when the weather was warm enough in the mornings. But instead, people stayed home, glued to their televisions, watching the constant and overwhelming coverage of the explosion most of the media outlets had already deemed to be an act of terrorism.
