by Thorpe, K.
Ms. Malin cries, “Please…please don’t hurt me.”
The parishioner takes a wooden chair from the side of the room and sits it
backward in front of Ms. Malin. He slowly takes a seat. “Let’s start over, okay? My name is James, Ms. Malin, but my friends call me Jimmy.” Ms. Malin sobs. Jimmy continues, “I’m gonna have to ask you to stop that now so that we can get on to the important issue at hand.”
Ms. Malin quiets herself. “Now…that’s better. Call me Jimmy, Ms. Malin,” he instructs. Through quiet tears, Ms. Malin trembles. “I’ll repeat myself again…but I have only a finite amount of patience. Call me Jimmy, Ms. Malin.”
Ms. Malin, with a look of terror on her face, struggles to say his name. “J…Jimmy.”
Jimmy slaps his knee. “That’s great. I love clear communication, don’t you?”
“Wh…What do you want?” she asks in terror.
“Saying my name makes you brazen, doesn’t it? I have that effect on all women.”
Ms. Malin looks down in disgust. Jimmy grabs Ms. Malin by the face, leaning in an inch from her. He licks his lips, darting his tongue out just slightly. “Don’t knock what you ain’t had.” Jimmy pushes her back away from him. “Now…I’m gonna ask you some questions and I want you to answer me directly. As you can see, I’m not here to play games with you and my patience is running thinner by the moment…so…the quicker your answers, the sooner I’m out of your hair. Understand?”
Ms. Malin trembles as she stares at the ground. She is too frightened to utter a reply. Jimmy raises her chin. “You understand?” Ms. Malin nods yes. He continues, “Today is a special day…one of celebratory nature. Can you tell me what today is, Ms. Malin?”
Ms. Malin shakes her head no. “Tell me the date, Ms. Malin.”
Her voice shaking, she answers, “Dec…December twenty-first.”
Jimmy stands and begins circling Ms. Malin. “Ah…December twenty-first.”
He stands behind her, gently stroking her hair. “And why is today significant?”
She begins to sob again, “I…I don’t know.”
Jimmy comes around and stands directly in front of Ms. Malin. “As I said earlier,
Ms. Malin…I will ask again, but you’re losing chances. Now, what is the significance of today’s date?”
Ms. Malin shouts through her tears, “I said I don’t know!”
Jimmy mocks her, “Are you telling me that you don’t remember the day your daughter was born?”
Ms. Malin sobs openly as he continues, “What kind of a mother would forget her own daughter’s birthday? Oh…yeah…a mother who abandoned her…isn’t that right?”
Ms. Malin shakes her head no as she cries. “Let me put it another way…is today your daughter Katherine’s birthday?” Ms. Malin sits with a glazed look on her face as tears stream down her face.
December 28, 1973
Inside a Baltimore hospital, a nurse sits behind a desk writing reports. A younger Ms. Malin approaches, with baby Natan in her arms, wrapped in a pink blanket.
“May I help you, Miss?” the nurse asks.
Ms. Malin is visibly upset, holding back tears. “Nurse…I have to surrender my baby.”
“Surrender your baby?” the nurse asks in shock.
“I…I just can’t keep her.” Ms. Malin pushes baby Natan toward the nurse.
“But, Miss,” the nurse tries to protest.
Ms. Malin turns and walks away, leaving the nurse holding little Natan in her arms. “Miss, you can’t just leave your baby…”
Ms. Malin stops and turns, shocking the already frazzled nurse. “This child is from the devil himself. My hands cannot touch it…ever again.” Ms. Malin turns and quickly walks down the hall and out the exit doors at the end of the corridor.
The nurse stands holding baby Natan.
Back inside the church room, a captive Ms. Malin sits confined as tears pour down her face. Jimmy pulls out a gun from the back of his pants, cocks it, and then runs it up her thigh, probing for his answer.
“Yes…today is her birthday,” she answers.
Jimmy lowers the gun. “Well, all right. That makes her twenty-eight, now doesn’t it? At least I know I have the right woman now. I hate when I get the wrong one…you can imagine how embarrassing that could be.”
“What do you want?” Ms. Malin asks.
Jimmy leans in. “I’m the one asking the questions…remember?” He licks the side of Ms. Malin’s face. She slaps him in reflex. Jimmy raises his gun again and points it at her.
“Go ahead…shoot me, James. God is on my side…is he on yours?” she says coolly, no longer facing her fate in fear.
Jimmy, impressed, lowers the gun. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He rubs the gun against her arm. “I’m sure you have all that pent-up anger because you gave away your own child. But I wonder who is more angry, you or Katherine.” Ms. Malin looks away with contempt. Jimmy continues, “You know where she is, Ms. Malin?”
Ms. Malin stares him down. “Are you completely without intellect? I gave my daughter up. I know nothing of her life…nothing of it. And I don’t care to. My life is lived for God and has been for the last twenty-eight years. I don’t know how you even found me because I gave her up anonymously.”
“You’d be surprised what I know, Ms. Malin. The people I work for are very powerful…their hands reach everyone and everything. And my life is lived to find your daughter, Katherine…as it has been for the last eighteen years. You were one of our last resources.”
“Why are you so interested in her?” she asks.
“Oh…you know the answer to that as well as I do, Ms. Malin. Isn’t that why you gave her up?”
Ms. Malin looks down. “I…I gave her up to so that I could give my life to God.”
“Yeah…if that’s what lets you sleep at night,” Jimmy replies.
She lunges at Jimmy. “You son of a bitch.”
Jimmy knocks her back into the chair. “That ain’t very Christian of you, now is it, Ms. Malin?”
“Go to hell,” she answers.
Jimmy leans in again. “I’ll meet ya there. Who do you think will get there first?”
Ms. Malin pulls away in disgust. Jimmy continues, “I guess it’s safe to say that you really have let her go. And you can rest assured that she’ll be in good hands real soon.”
“My daughter is dead to me,” Ms. Malin says coldly.
Jimmy starts to tuck his gun behind his back, “More than you know, Ms. Malin.”
Ms. Malin spits in Jimmy’s face. Jimmy slowly wipes his face as he takes the gun back out, raising it quickly to hit her in the head with the gun butt. Ms. Malin falls to the floor. Blood runs down her neck as she lies motionless, knocked out.
Jimmy chastises the fallen woman, “I won’t send her your love, since you have none for her. Who can you trust, Ms. Malin, if you can’t even trust the love of a parent?” His voice reverberates in her unconscious.
As he tucks his gun behind his back a tattoo with red angels’ wings peeks from behind his sleeve. Jimmy walks out, leaving Ms. Malin on the floor.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Inside her therapist’s office, Agent Natan sits fidgeting on the edge of her seat across from Christine, who calmly waits with notepad in hand. Christine initiates the conversation. “It’s evident that you have things to discuss, since you arrived here without an appointment.”
Natan wrings her hands. “I’m sorry I came unannounced. I’m…I’m just at a loss.”
“What’s happened, Natan?” she asks, concerned.
Natan hesitates. “The professor I’ve told you about…well…he took me to see a psychic.”
“A psychic?” Christine jots notes.
Natan continues, “Yes, a psychic. First, let me ask…how do you feel about this sort of thing?”
“What sort of thing, psychics?” Christine replies. Natan nods her head yes. Christine continues, “Are we talking about 1-900-number psychics?”
&n
bsp; “I’m talking about people with…real abilities,” Natan clarifies.
“Well, if it’s abilities you’re talking about, then I definitely find validity in certain aspects of it. So why did the professor take you to a psychic?” Christine asks.
“To help me,” Natan replies.
“Help you learn your future, Agent Natan?”
“To help me…” Natan struggles.
Christine leans in, gently patting Natan’s knee. “It’s okay. You’re in a safe space here.”
“To help me understand what’s happening to me,” Natan reveals.
Christine flips through her notes. “Natan. The last session we had, we discussed your intuition regarding the Boston incident. I’m guessing that there is more here to catch me up on…am I right?”
“It would take more than fifty minutes,” Natan quips.
“Give me the quick version,” Christine requests.
“Well…” Natan shifts uncomfortably. “I’ve been having visions.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight…during the Boston incident you had feelings of intuition, you’ve also been having dreams lately, and now you’re having visions. Is that right?” Christine asks. Natan nods her head yes. Christine continues, “I see. Tell me a bit more about these visions.”
Natan replies, “They’re like…little snippets of movies in my head. Some seem like memories, and some are unclear.”
Christine stops note-taking and looks up at Natan. “If you’re having visions or flashes of memories, it’s not an uncommon situation. It’s often brought on by some sort of stress or trauma.”
Natan swallows hard. “They’re not my memories that I’m seeing.”
“What?” Christine asks. “Whose memories are they?”
Natan replies, “The professor’s, I think.”
Christine leans back in her chair. “Well, this is sure an interesting turn of events.”
Natan leans back in her own chair. “I guess I should also mention that I am being investigated at the moment.”
An uneasy Christine asks, “Investigated for what and by whom?”
“Well, it seems the professor has a past issue with smuggled artifacts and my contact with him has evoked some sort of concern at the N.S.A.,” Natan confides.
“This sounds troubling,” Christine replies.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Natan says. “I’m being followed everywhere I go. I had to duck out the back exit of the Essential Mart and cross the other shopping area to get here unseen.” Natan runs her hand over her face. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”
Christine tries to support her. “I had no idea that you were dealing with so many things at once. This must be incredibly difficult for you.”
Natan feels safe and continues, “Everything that’s been happening lately…it’s all surreal. It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside and nothing makes any sense.”
Christine says, “I understand now how difficult it’s been for you to get here and why you needed to see me. I suggest that you begin journaling your feelings and experiences in between our sessions to help you gain some stability and clarity for yourself.”
“You want me to write down what I’m thinking and experiencing?” Natan shifts uncomfortably.
“I think it would be good for you,” Christine encourages. Natan fidgets, looking more tense. Christine sees her discomfort. “Is that a problem?” she asks.
Natan replies, “I’m just…worried about having written documentation around about all…,” Natan motions to Christine’s notepad with her hands. “Well…all of this getting out.”
“I understand,” Christine says. “Perhaps you can write things down, re-read them, and then shred them once you’re finished. This will give you a chance to revisit your thoughts, feelings, and experiences, but eliminate concern for your privacy.”
“I think I can do that.” Natan eyes her watch, “I have to leave in a moment…I’m on desk duty at work and they’re watching me like a hawk.”
“I’m guessing you’ll want to wait to schedule something for next time?” Christine says.
“I haven’t the vaguest idea when I’ll be back.” Natan gets up. “Let’s just say I’ll be in touch.” Natan heads for the door.
“Natan.” Christine stops her. Natan turns back to Christine, who promises, “I will do everything in my power to keep your information safe.” Christine rips several pages out of the notepad, holding the pages up to Natan. “I’ll shred all of these…” Christine and Natan lock eyes.
“Thank you, Christine,” Natan replies.
“Take care of yourself, Agent Natan.” Natan exits, leaving Christine looking at the pages in her hand.
Outside Christine’s office, Amanda paces as she waits around a corner. She spots Natan leaving the building and casually begins walking toward the same vicinity. Amanda pretends to window shop. Natan spots her. Amanda wears a t-shirt with people hanging off of a globe of the earth as they hang on for their lives. The shirt reads, “Running out of room? Then help stop overpopulation.”
“Ms. Clark?” Natan says, shocked to see her.
“Agent Natan. Please…call me Amanda. I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you. What a coincidence that you’re doing some lunchtime shopping also.”
Natan looks around suspiciously. “Yeah, it is. What can I do for you?”
Amanda replies, “I saw a man snooping around Josh’s office again a few days ago.”
“The man…was he the same man who was at the university that day I interviewed you? Did he look like he was a cop or worked for the government?” Natan asks.
“No way he was a cop,” Amanda replies. “It was a totally different guy. He had a bunch of tattoos and was almost goth-looking.”
“Did you notice anything else?” Natan asks.
“Nope…that was pretty freaky all by itself,” Amanda says.
Natan looks at Amanda again curiously. “Well, thanks for letting me know. I’ll see what I can find out.”
Amanda replies, “I hope you can find out something soon because the professor’s been kinda edgy lately.”
“What do you mean?” Natan asks.
Amanda fidgets. “He just seems like he has a lot on his mind.” She looks around nervously. “Well, anyway, it was good running into you…it saved me a call.”
“Yeah,” Natan replies, “I’ll get back in touch if I find anything.”
“Thanks. Have a great remainder of your day.” Amanda walks off, waving goodbye as she leaves.
“You too.” Natan’s reply is a little delayed as she ponders this chance encounter.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Inside the N.S.A. building Natan gets off the elevator on Alice’s floor. She sees workmen moving furniture out of Alice’s office and rushes over to it. Natan stands in the doorway watching Alice’s expressionless face as she sits in a chair that used to be behind her now-missing desk. The room is nearly empty.
Alice is deep in thought, remembering her last encounter with Agent Knight. Knight sits working on his computer in the general office area as Alice approaches.
“Agent Knight.” Alice’s voice resonates aggression.
“Alice. Agent Natan’s not here right now,” he says, beaming.
“I’m looking for you, Agent Knight,” she replies.
Knight smiles at her warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Get that smug smile off your face.” Knight’s smile fades. Alice continues, “I know that you’ve been working to bring Natan down.”
Knight gets up from his desk and squares off with Alice, hovering a good foot and a half above her. “What’re you talking about?”
Unwavering, Alice replies, “Save it. I know and I’m bringing all of this to light.”
Alice starts to leave.
Knight grabs her hard. “I wouldn’t do that…sticking your nose where you don’t belong can be a hazardous thing, Alice.”
Alice shake
s off his grip. “You can do what you like…but this is over, Knight.”
Knight pushes Alice against a file cabinet. “Who do you think authorized this whole thing? It’s not just me you’re screwing with…you sure you want to mess with the head of the N.S.A.?”
Alice pushes Knight’s large frame back. “You’re lucky I don’t carry a weapon anymore.”
“Think about it,” Knight threatens, “You wouldn’t want Agent Natan to have an accident on the job, now would you? Working for the N.S.A. can be a hazardous thing. We’ve lost two agents already this year.”
Alice heads for the door. “Go to hell!”
“Baxter will never let it happen, Alice. Think about it.”
Natan stands in the doorway of Alice’s office, watching her friend sit as she sits alone in the vacant space. She knocks on the door jam as she stands in the doorway. “Something you want to tell me, Alice?” Natan asks.
Alice looks up. “Oh, you startled me.”
“Everything all right?” Natan says.
“Yeah…sure,” Alice replies, “They’re moving me to another floor.”
“Since when?” Natan asks.
“Since today.” Alice gets up.
“Why?” Natan probes further.
Alice replies, “Well, they’ve needed extra space up here for a while now and they figured it would be a good time to do it since I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”
“Gone?” Natan says. “Where’re you going?”
Alice cloaks her true feelings, holding it together perfectly. “I’m finally getting that vacation I’ve wanted.” She smiles at Natan.
Natan is shocked. “What? Alice, you’ve been wanting a vacation for the last five years…and yet, you never took one. Why now?”
“It’s now or never, right?” Alice turns to sit back down. Natan gently reaches out to her.
“Something isn’t right here,” Natan says suspiciously. “You’ve been trying to talk to me for a while now. Does this have anything to do with what you needed to tell me?”
Inside Baxter’s hidden office chamber, Knight and Baxter stand over a monitor observing Alice’s office.
