Like Mind

by James T Wood

  “There’s a rest area coming up. No one will wonder at us parking there for several hours. That should work fine.”

  It took us about ten minutes to get to the rest stop. Anka parked the SUV and told us to wait. She got out, went into the bathroom and then walked around for a few minutes. When she came back she opened my door.

  “Go to the bathroom, wash your hands—thoroughly—and then come back. I’ll get your surgery area set up and open the back door for you. Don’t touch anything until you get back here.”

  “Okay, I got it. I watched plenty of the surgery videos. I think I’ll be fine.”

  “You think?” Grosskopf groaned from the back.

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  I hopped out and headed over to the bathroom. I took care of business before washing my hands. I waited for the water to get hot and then used lots of soap and washed for about two minutes. I did the cool surgeon move and walked with my wet hands toward the door. I kicked it open and headed back to the Suburban where Anka let me in.

  “Stop hamming it up Dr. Quinn.”

  “Ha! Nice reference.” I smiled at her and she smiled back.

  Inside she’d transformed the back of the Suburban into a miniature surgery ward. The bench seat was laid down, Grosskopf was lying flat with his shirt off and the bullet wound exposed. The first aid kit was arranged on a sheet on the floor next to the knife, tweezers and alcohol.

  “Wow, this looks great. Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, just glove up and take care of Grosskopf.”

  “Wait, do we have any anesthetic?”

  “Yeah,” Grosskopf asked, “Do we?”

  “Nothing but some ibuprofen in the first aid kit.”

  “Damn. You’ll just have to take it doc. I’ll go as fast as I can. Just don’t struggle.”

  “Um…okay. You sure you can do this?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who zapped my brain to give me this power. You should be more sure than I am.”

  “I should be…”

  “Just lay back and let me work.”

  I reached over and pulled the latex gloves from the box. After pulling them on I grabbed the knife and alcohol. I quickly cut a slit across the bullet hole and then poured a bit of alcohol on it. Grosskopf writhed and screamed in pain. I switched to the tweezers and some gauze. I dabbed away the blood with the gauze and then probed into the wound with the tweezers. After a few moments of screaming and me not finding anything I stopped. It was hard to see with the blood and the dim light filtering through the windows.

  “Can you get me a flashlight or something? I can’t see what I’m doing in here.”

  “Yeah,” Anka jumped into action.

  She turned on the interior lights, which helped a bit. I dabbed and probed again. The videos didn’t help me know how to feel the bullet on the end of the tweezers. I wasn’t sure if I was poking bone or metal. I kept dabbing and probing while the doctor moaned and whimpered. Eventually Anka located a flashlight from the back and came over to shine the light into the now gaping wound.

  I dabbed several times to clear away as much blood as possible, but it kept welling back up as fast as I could soak it away. Maybe that glint was lead and not glossy blood. I stuck the tweezers where I’d seen the flash and the doctor rewarded me with a muffled scream. I considered that a good sign. I gave a probing squeeze and I felt hard resistance. With a pull I extracted the slug from his shoulder. Grosskopf gasped in shock. I dabbed again and then dropped the tweezers and gauze. I pulled out the alcohol again and doused the wound. This time the scream wasn’t muffled at all.

  Anka looked out the windows to see if anyone was looking. At this time there were only a couple of trucks on the far side of the rest stop. She came back and handed me the needle and thread from the first aid kit. I checked the knot in the end of the thread and gripped the curved needle to begin stitching up the doctor.

  I started on the side closest to Grosskopf’s sternum and quickly plunged the needle through one side of the incision and out on the other. A gentle tug pulled the skin together. As I approached the ragged tear where the bullet ripped into him, I had to tug a bit harder to get the skin together. Poor Grosskopf just kept whining like a whipped puppy. Finally I had the wound closed and I dressed it with fresh gauze and taped everything in place.

  “Here, Doc, drink some of this to replenish your fluids.”

  Anka handed him some Gatorade while I stepped back and pulled off the gloves. I collected the gloves, gauze and remnants of the tie-sock bandage to throw them away. As I started to step out of the SUV, Anka stopped me.

  “You can’t throw that away here. Not with all that blood on it—and on you. No, hold on to it for now and we’ll dispose of it later.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “As soon as we get all this put away we need to get back on the road. You’ve only got five days to live and we still don’t have a plan for breaking into the NSA headquarters.”

  Respite, Respite

  We made it just over an hour up the road before hunger, weariness and lack of fuel demanded that we stop. In Centralia we found a motel by a lake and near to a gas station. We got in to the hotel, using Dr. Grosskopf’s card since it was required. We left the doctor to rest and then Anka and I went out for gas and food.

  A short drive from the motel we found the main strip of Centralia, not that it’s much of a town, but it offered better options for food than the gas station sandwich shop. I spotted the Olympic Club and directed Anka to stop. I figured that she should have a taste of McMenamins’ food before we got too far away from the Portland area.

  We got in, got a table and ordered our food. I made sure we had Cajun tots coming, just to complete the experience. Anka still seemed a bit shaky from everything, but she was working hard to hold it together. I didn’t know if a beer would be good for her or a terrible idea. I ordered one for myself and she just asked for water.

  I’m not known for being smooth around women. Something usually ties up my tongue so I don’t know what to say. Maybe that’s why I use so many movie quotes. I don’t know. But as I sat there thinking about what possible conversation topic I could bring up, I realized that I’d never had to deal with issues like this. She’s just killed someone, I’m about to die, we’re both on the run and there’s a wounded man back at the motel we’re staying at who will either save me or get us both killed.

  “So, have you ever had Cajun tots before?” Idiot.

  “No, what makes them Cajun?”

  “Well, they put this spice mixture on them. It’s really good. You get ranch dressing to dip them in.”

  “Yum. That does sound good.”

  “Yeah.”

  I’m the worst conversationalist ever.

  “Hey, Corey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Um…for what?”

  “For everything.”

  She reached out and grabbed my hand.

  “Um…sure. My pleasure.”

  We didn’t say anything else until the waiter brought our drinks over and we had to move our hands to make space.

  “So, um…what do we do now?”

  “I really don’t know,” Anka said. “We need to get back into the NSA facility, but that’s impossible. If we don’t you die. If we get in, we both die. There’s really not much to discuss at this point.”

  “If it’s a death-trap then why are we heading up there? It doesn’t make any sense for both of us to die. You just take the doctor and get away somewhere. I’ll die. We can’t stop that. You don’t have to die too.”

  Tears came to her eyes and she reached across the table to grab my hand again. The dimples came out for a moment.

  “There’s no way I could do that. Not now. Corey I…”

  “You think I’m going to let you risk your life for me?” I felt my eyes start to well.

  With perfect waiter timing, our server dropped off napkins and silverware. We quickly d
ashed the tears from our eyes and awkwardly cleared our throats. If I wasn’t living it I’d think it was funny.

  “Look—” I started to say.

  “No. I’m going with you to Seattle. We’re going to figure out how to keep you alive. That’s it. We can do this and no one is going to die.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” the thick Hispanic accent sounded familiar, but the face wasn’t. Not at first.

  The man sat down at the table with us. He was bald and had no eyebrows. I wondered if he had alopecia, but there were also red, splotchy stripes on his face. He wore a red bandanna around his neck and had a striped, orange shirt on. It took a moment for me to place everything, but when I did, I burst out laughing. Not just a quick chortle, but a full-on belly-laugh guffaw. Anka and our guest just stared at me while I tried to catch my breath. It took several minutes before I was able.

  “Hey Tony,” I said, “glad you made it.”

  Anka looked from me to our guest and back to me.

  “No,” she said.

  “Yes, it is I, Antonio Gutierrez. You thought you had killed me, but you were wrong.”

  “Sorry about that,” I said, “we weren’t really trying to kill you, just to get away. How are the burly twins?”

  “Who?”

  “Your henchmen that you sent after us?”

  “Ah, they have passed on from this life. They were able to open the emergency exit and get me out just before the second missile hit. How were you able to launch missiles against me?”

  “We didn’t. They came from the NSA drone that was trying to kill us. All we did was to let the NSA know where we were.” Anka explained.

  “Wait, the NSA blew up my plane?”

  “Yeah. I guess the director wants us dead or something.”

  It was surreal to be having this conversation while waiting for my burger to arrive.

  “But the NSA paid me to capture you…alive. Why would they change their minds and want you dead? Why would they pay me and then try to kill me?”

  “I don’t know,” Anka said, “but we’re on our way up to Seattle to find out.”

  “Yes, I will help you.”

  “Oh, good,” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Tony’s sudden change of heart.

  “No one double-crosses El Tigre!”

  “Yeah, yeah. We get it. We’re also in a restaurant. Hold that stuff down, will you?” I tried to calm him as the waiter approached with our food.

  “Oh, I see you have another. Do you need a menu?”

  “Yes,” it sounded like ‘Jess’ with his accent, “I will eat.”

  “Do you want some Cajun tots for now?”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  Smoking Cubans

  We ate our meal and Antonio explained to us how he’d found us. After his plane exploded he was taken to the hospital by the fire department. There, while being treated for burns, he accessed the NSA network. Apparently the IT department takes a while to lock people out, especially when they think that person has been exploded. He was able to find the mission and GPS transponder signals for Agents Jones and Smith. He tracked the Prius to the Burgerville and then followed the agents to the mall. There he saw a part of our scuffle at the loading dock and watched us drive away. He was actually the one who called the police to report the violence and tie up the NSA.

  From there he followed us on the freeway and waited for an opportune time to meet up with us. He’d been in contact with his government to see if any official information had come through about the NSA or if China had given him up. There was nothing to report from the home office, so that left the NSA betraying him. Not being a forgiving type, he decided that we’d offer a great opportunity to get revenge on the NSA for his plane and his burns.

  “Well. I guess we’re happy to have you.” I wasn’t sure how to deal with a rogue special policeman from Cuba who looked like a cartoon tiger.

  “How can you help us get into the NSA lab? Once we’re in, what do you want for your trouble?” Anka was all business.

  “Ah yes, I can help you get in. My friends in China have toys that will let me hack into the NSA’s system. We can disable the security and even use some of it against them.”

  “That’s great, but you can’t hack all the agents that we’ll be facing. How do you propose getting past the people?”

  “Yes, that is a good point. But, if there are no people, we will get past them easily. An evacuation will work nicely for us.”

  “Okay, then what do you want in exchange?”

  “I want the man who betrayed me.”

  “Director Stephenson.”

  “Yes.”

  Anka thought about it for a long time. I could see her loyalty fighting with her sense of justice. She chewed on a tot until it must have dissolved completely. Then she kept staring at Gutierrez for several more moments. Finally she got up, threw down some cash and muttered over her shoulder as she stalked away from the table. She really likes throwing cash. I wonder if that’s an elective in super-secret spy school.

  “I guess we don’t have any choice.”

  I rose to follow her, but made apologies to Gutierrez on the way out.

  “Sorry about that. Do you have a place to stay?” he nodded, “Good. We’ll see you in the morning. Do you want to meet here?” he shook his head, “No, okay, at your hotel?” he shook his head again, “Where then?”

  “I’ll be at your place at seven AM.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I hurried to catch up with Anka. She was already sitting in the Suburban flicking the wires under the steering column to get it started. I jumped in next to her and groped for something to say.

  “Hey, at least we have a plan, right?”

  She said nothing and drove out of the parking lot. It was only a few minutes back to the motel, but it felt much longer. She glared through the window at every car, light and pedestrian in our path. I hoped to avoid that wrath, if possible.

  “That was a good burger, though. I can’t believe you’ve never had McMenamin’s food before.”

  The tires squealed as she turned hard into the motel parking lot. She pulled into the space, turned off the SUV and sat there gripping the wheel fiercely. I looked over at her and detected just a hint of humanity in her robotic facade.

  “Hey, Anka, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I know it’s rough. We have a lot ahead of us so it’s probably best to get it all out of the way now. You know?”

  She kept staring ahead, but her knuckles were getting some color back instead of being pure white.

  “I need you. Without your help, I’m going to die in five days.”

  Her hands dropped into her lap, but she still stared straight ahead. I thought about what she must be feeling right now.

  “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to train so hard and give your life to something only to be betrayed.”

  She turned to look at me with a face that demanded answers but was terrified to receive them.

  “I don’t know anything about the NSA, but I have to believe that it’s just this Stephenson who’s betrayed you. It’s not the whole organization, just one man.”

  Something broke inside her and she started crying again.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” I almost busted out with “there-there.”

  “But, Corey, I killed someone. I don’t know if Jones knew that Stephenson was bad. He may have just been doing his job and I shot him. He’s dead. What do I do?”

  I had nothing to say in response to that. What could I say? My biggest dilemmas prior to this had involved the selection of frozen burritos and which old sci-fi series to watch online. I looked over at her and then slid across the bench seat to wrap my arms around her. She snuggled into my embrace and kept crying. This seemed to be a pattern. I wondered if this was how mature relationships went, with the hugging and crying on a twice-daily basis. I hoped not, but something about having Anka in my arms made even that scenario palatable.


  After she’d stopped crying I waited for a few minutes before leaning back to look at her. She’d fallen asleep against me. I wished there was a way to keep her there, but logic told me that we both needed to sleep well. Plus, we needed to check on the doctor.

  I leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head. She smiled in her sleep. I kissed her again, and then moved my lips lower to her forehead and then down to her cheek. Finally my lips found hers. She responded to my kiss and pulled me tightly against her. Soon we were making out like teenagers in a borrowed SUV, except we were older and the Suburban was stolen.

  The pent-up tension of running for my life mixed with the distinct possibility of my eminent demise if I failed to run released into a desperate need to feel alive. My heart started beating faster, Anka had that effect on me from the first moment I saw her, but this time it was different. This time the pounding in my chest came from an overflow of emotion rather than a physiological manifestation of lust. She was sad and I wanted to make her happy. I was scared and I wanted her to comfort me. All that happened as we kissed in the front seat.

  I took her face in my hands and then slid my arms around her. She embraced me and we sought to be as close as possible. Soon her seatbelt got in the way, so we fumbled to remove it. Then her hands found the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. I reached under her skirt to caress her thigh, and regions north.

  In a moment of lucidity amidst the fog of passion I remembered that we were in the front seat of a stolen vehicle in the parking lot of a motel that we knew had been watched by at least one Cuban secret policeman. I, regretfully, pulled back for a moment, though my hand didn’t leave its warm retreat.

  “We should go inside,” I breathed from my mouth to hers, “We might be watched out here.”

  Anka nodded while biting her lower lip and breathing shakily. I struggled back into my shirt and we slipped out of the Suburban. We kept touching and holding each other as we walked up the stairs to our room. Anka fumbled for the key while I kissed her neck and pressed myself against her from behind. She unlocked the door but stopped there for a moment making small moaning sounds and rocking her hips back against me. I gasped in pleasure and anticipation.