by J. F. Smith
Matt never thought that maybe the people that had held him might actually be looking to put something on his laptop. He had no idea what they might put on it, but he had to acknowledge the possibility.
Randall added, “You’ll get it back, Matt.”
“How can you even access it without me logging into it?”
Again, a smirk from Randall. “Next question.”
“Who were these people? Why did they grab me? Were they going to kill me?” Matt’s voice was suddenly more emotional than it had been in the entire interview.
And for the first time, Randall actually looked somewhat sympathetically at Matt. “We don’t know who they are. We’re hoping that some of the information you gave us will help us figure out what’s going on here. As for why they grabbed you specifically, we have a theory, but I can’t discuss it just yet. Give us a little more time on that, though.”
Matt felt frustrated by this. He wanted some kind of understanding about what happened to him. The who and the why. He wanted some kind of closure. He hated to say it, but even if they were just extremists looking to kill a Westerner, at least then he’d have some kind of paper thin understanding. But he wasn’t even getting that.
And Randall conspicuously hadn’t answered the final part of the question. Matt repeated, quietly, “Were they going to kill me?”
Randall looked down at the table so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Matt. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat uneasily. “Yes, you almost certainly would have been killed were it not for the team that rescued you. Probably, uh… pretty quickly.”
It was one thing for Matt to fear that that would have been his fate, but to hear it spoken with that kind of certainty from someone else drove a blade into his soul. He hadn’t done anything to any of these people. He came here with the best intentions to help them. Why would they want this?
Why?
Matt sat limply in his chair. By all accounts, he should be dead by now. He looked at his own hands, resting on the table. He should be dead.
He thought about the fight with Brian the night he left. That should have been the last time he saw Brian. He thought about stopping by Bret’s to take him some food and peeking in at him sleeping. That should have been the last time he saw him. He thought about two nights prior to that when he had met Bret and Jim out at a Thai restaurant. That should have been the last night he would have seen Jim. All these things in his life should have been bluntly cut off and permanently interrupted. But by some unbelievable miracle, they weren’t. He had somehow cheated death halfway around the world.
Matt heard a noise and realized that Randall was calling his name.
He asked Randall suddenly, “How did the SEALs find me?”
Randall leaned forward in his chair, challenging Matt. “Who said they were SEALs?”
“C’mon, Randall. Who else?” bluffed Matt.
Randall considered this for a moment, and then leaned back in his chair again.
“Next question,” he said.
“Can I at least call some people back home? Send an email? I actually do have some people that might be a little worried about me, you know?”
Randall clapped and pointed at Matt with both hands. “Yes, definitely! That I can absolutely make happen for you! But… there’s a few rules. You can’t tell anyone any specifics about what happened. Not yet.”
Matt looked at Randall like he was insane. He sniped, “I can’t tell anyone?! After what I’ve been through? What the hell is that? You can’t be serious!”
Randall shook his head. “No, I said ‘no specifics’. For now, just tell your friends that you ran into a little problem and the US Navy wound up helping you out. When they want details, just tell them you’ve been asked to not say anything else. And reassure them that you’re fine and will be coming home soon.”
Matt grumbled, “That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“I’m serious, Matt,” said Randall. “This is still an open issue of national security. You are not to risk what might be our next steps by discussing any of this yet in any more detail than that. With anyone.”
Randall locked his eyes on Matt’s and asked, “Will you promise me, Matt?”
Matt frowned. He didn’t like this. He wasn’t sure if he believed this guy and the line about this being an issue of national security. How could he be wrapped up in something like that? But, at the same time, the important thing was just to let Brian know he was safe and not to worry.
Matt caved. “Yeah. Okay. I promise.”
Randall took Matt to a communications room where he could email or call anyone he wanted to. Matt just wanted to hear Brian’s voice. He wanted something familiar in his life back. Something to remind him of home.
Brian answered the phone, yawning. “Hey! I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days! How’s the trip going? You ready to come home?”
Matt felt a little twinge that Brian didn’t seem to notice anything amiss in his lack of communication, but then he dismissed it since Brian was always pretty unobservant that way. Besides, just hearing Brian’s voice almost made Matt break down.
“Hey, Brian.” Matt had to compose himself before continuing. “Yeah, I’m really ready to come home. You… you have no idea.”
“You ok, baby?” asked Brian, waking up a little more. “You sound a little upset. Is everything ok?”
Matt took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, now. I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.”
“What’s wrong? You sound a little funny…”
“I, uh… just had a… small problem over here. Aaaaaand I couldn’t, uh, email or call for a few days. But I’m ok now.”
Brian still wasn’t fully coherent. “Ok, you still getting back on Saturday?”
Matt wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that Brian didn’t probe much further than he did. He decided to just let it go for right now since he couldn’t give any specifics anyway.
“I’m not sure right now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Brian stifled another yawn. “Ok, baby. I’ll be glad to see you. I’ve missed you!”
When he hung up, Matt closed his eyes and savored the sleepy sound of Brian’s voice for a moment. He was so ready to be home.
Matt called Bret next, and as soon as Bret heard Matt’s voice, he freaked out. “MATT! Holy shit! Are you ok? Where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you emailed in, like, five days now? Jim and I are totally shitting bricks over here!!”
Matt said, “I’m fine, Bret. Really. I just had a little problem that I had to get some help with before I could get back to you or Brian or Jim.”
“What kind of problem? Help from who? Where have you been?!”
Matt sighed. Bret was going to be much more persistent than Brian. “I just ran into an issue and the US Navy had to help…”
Bret practically screamed at Matt, “An ‘issue’?! The fucking NAVY?! Are you ok? Do I need to come get you? What the hell do you mean by the Navy? What kind of trouble did you get in that requires the goddamned Navy?!”
“Bret! Shut up a second! First of all, I’m fine. I’ll be coming home soon, so just relax.”
Bret wasn’t to be totally allayed, though. “Coming home when, specifically? Where are you? Are you still in Syria? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!”
Matt said, “Not sure exactly when yet, but they’re working on that. Hang on…”
Matt looked over at the person in the communications room with him and asked, “Where are we?”
The communications officer said, “I can’t say exactly…”
“I’m not asking for the coordinates or whatever. Just where are we in general? The Mediterranean? South China Sea? The Las Vegas strip?”
“Oh,” said the officer. “Yeah. Still in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Syria.”
Matt turned his attention back to Bret. “I’m on a Navy ship, right off of Syria. I can’t really talk about what happened right now, though. Just listen to me a minute. I need t
o go. I’m going to call Jimmy, too, and let him know I’m ok. But I’m fine. I’ll call or send an email when I can, alright?”
It did no good. “On a ship? You can’t talk about it?! This is insane, Matt, and you…”
Matt interrupted him, almost shouting, “Chiliburger!! I’m fine! Go take a Xanax or something, ok? I’ll call back soon!” Matt hung up, knowing that would be the only way he was going to be able to end that conversation. In spite of everything, he had to smile to himself at Bret’s reaction. Over the top, like everything.
He finally called Jim, who was worried, but not nearly as wildly panicky as Bret.
“Matt! Is everything ok? You just disappeared on us there!”
“Yeah, Jimmy. It’s good to hear your voice, though. I had a little problem and the Navy had to step in and help, but I’m fine. I’ll be coming home pretty soon.”
“Whoa… back up a second. The Navy? Like in the US Navy?! What happened, Matt?”
“Jim, I actually can’t talk about it right now or go into any details. Ok? But everything’s fine.”
“Seriously, though, the US Navy?” pressed Jim. “If you’re joking around, it’s not funny, Matt. We’ve been really worried.”
“Yes, the US Navy. And no, I’m not joking around. I know you guys have been worried. You guys are the best, you know? I just talked to Bret a moment ago, so you’ll probably start getting text messages any minute now.”
“Is there anything I can do, Matt? Do you want us to come over there and get you?”
Matt smiled and felt better. Jim was the calm rock in his life. It felt good to have friends like that. He wondered if he had subconsciously saved his call to Jim for last.
“No, Jimmy. Thanks, but that definitely isn’t necessary. I’ll get back in touch when I know exactly when I’ll be coming home. It shouldn’t be long.”
“Ok, Matt. It’s good to hear your voice and to know you’re ok. Call back and let me or Chili know if there’s anything at all we can do.”
Once he hung up, Matt felt much better. Just hearing Brian’s, Bret’s and Jim’s voices made him feel like everything had turned out alright. He just had to wait until he got to go home now.
Chapter 10 – The Rider
Given the tiny amount of clearance between his bunk and the one above it, it took a moment for Matt to figure out how to get into it so he could lie down. But despite his careful attempts, he wound up hitting his head twice anyway getting settled in. The pillow was thin and the mattress might as well have been stuffed with a couple of shredded up Sunday newspapers, but it was a far cry better than a cold tile floor, that was for sure.
He turned on his side and wondered if anyone else was sharing the small cabin he was in since there were other racks besides his. He assumed not since they looked empty. The berth itself was a very narrow walkway, hardly wide enough for a single person, with the racks built in on either side. At the end were a couple of narrow lockers and a single shared desk. Everything was painted the same disheartening gray that had been everywhere except for the room that Wickland had been in.
At least he felt much better after having had a rather large lunch. After finishing with his calls, Matt got the guy in the communications room to tell him how to get back to the chow hall so he could eat. He wandered around some, wound up in a room some large and intimidating Marine told him he shouldn’t be in, but pointed him back in the right direction to the chow hall he was looking for.
They were serving lunch, so Matt loaded up. Out of curiosity, Matt asked one of the people keeping the food lines stocked if they had the corned beef and cabbage. The guy told him they did, but then warned him to not “be stupid enough to actually eat it.”
He wound up getting a lot of vegetables and something that looked like it was supposed to be chicken and dumplings. He settled in at a small table by himself to eat. It might have been terrible, but after five days of nothing, it tasted just fine to Matt. It also occurred to him that the last meal he had prior to this one was the one he had at the café before being kidnapped.
He also noticed for the first time that he could occasionally hear a loud rumbling that actually shook the boat a little. The first time he heard it, he thought it might have been a bomb going off of onboard somewhere and started to panic at the thought of the thing sinking with him on it. But he watched the other people and no one else in the chow hall seemed to even notice it.
He had to ask several people how to get back to his rack, complicated by the fact that he didn’t know how to tell them which cabin was his. Fortunately, most everyone seemed to pick up on the fact that he was “the rider” as they referred to him and knew where to direct him. At one point again, he wound up trying to go through a locked passageway that he thought he was supposed to go down. As he tried to open the hatch a few times, another Marine came along and told him that, unless he wanted to be responsible for the Sidewinder missiles in there, he probably ought to go around. Matt turned a little pale and backed off from the door slowly and the Marine started laughing. Matt explained where he was trying to get and this Marine actually took the time to walk him most of the way back to where he was going.
On his way back to his rack, Matt’s mind played back part of the conversation with Randall Wickland. Randall had specifically said he realized Matt would want to call his friends back home. He didn’t say “friends and family”. He knew that Matt didn’t actually have any family since his dad passed away while he was in college and his mother passed away two years ago. He felt sure Randall already knew this. And that explained why he didn’t write anything down when Matt was talking about his background. He already knew all of it, or had access to it. Matt guessed that Randall was in the CIA or something like that. He had been dealing with a “spook”. A real live spook. He wasn’t sure what it meant, other than the fact that this was probably more than just some rescue mission for a kidnapped American.
As Matt lay in his bunk, he let his mind drift back to his call with Brian earlier that morning. He was a little disappointed that Brian didn’t seem to hardly notice or be concerned that Matt hadn’t called or emailed in days. Especially when he compared that reaction to both Bret’s and Jim’s. But he also knew that Brian was never very alert first thing in the morning, and he wasn’t a very clingy boyfriend that needed to talk to Matt five times a day. Well, he could be a little clingy in other odd ways, but not that way.
Rather than let his mind go down that path too far, Matt reminded himself of his commitment to be better than that and to appreciate Brian more. He forced his attention back on how good it was to hear Brian’s voice and how glad he’d be to get home and see him.
Even with another momentary roar that he could hear off somewhere in the ship, Matt’s mind drifted off rapidly, letting him sleep off his lunch.
Chapter 11 – Bait
Why did they have to start banging like that now? Didn’t they know people were trying to sleep?
The sound intruded into Matt’s mind, forcing him out of his sleep. Then he vaguely heard, “Yo, rider! Matt Goodend!”
He sat up with a start, inevitably banging his head on the rack above him and causing him to curse. He rolled over and saw yet another very young Marine – the one that had been trying to wake him up.
“You Matt Goodend?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“You know a guy named Wickland?”
“Yeah.”
“He needs to see you again. Now.”
Matt followed the Marine back to the same small conference room that he had met Randall before. After this second trip there, Matt was starting to feel like he’d be able to find his own way.
Like earlier, Randall was mostly all business. He wanted Matt to look through about fifty digital photographs on a laptop of people that more or less matched his description of the leader of the group that kidnapped him. They weren’t mug shots like in a police department, though. There were shots of these various people (Terrorists? Insurgents? Enemies? Allies?)
from candid or surreptitious situations that they had in their possession.
Unfortunately, since they all roughly matched Matt’s memory of the leader, he couldn’t pick out one that he felt like was definitely his kidnapper. He narrowed it down to five or six that he felt were possibilities, but it might have been any of them. Or maybe none of them at all.
Randall seemed a little put out with Matt that he couldn’t pick the guy out, but Matt told him that he simply wasn’t sure. Then Matt told Randall that he could pick one at random and insist that that was the guy with absolute certainty, but he didn’t really think that would be what Randall wanted in the end. Randall backed off and agreed that that would be worse.
Randall took the laptop back and fiddled around on it some. Then he sat quietly and studied Matt for a moment, like he was trying to make a decision. Matt sat and waited for him to make the next move.
When none came, Matt asked, “So, do you know when you can get me back home yet?”
Randall took a deep breath and said, “Let’s talk about something else first.”
He turned around the laptop so Matt could look at one more photograph on the screen.
Randall asked, “Do you know this person?”
Matt looked at the screen and immediately almost got angry. He said hotly, “Is this some kind of a joke?”
Randall said bluntly, “No.”
Matt narrowed his eyes slightly and looked directly at Randall. What the fuck was up with all of these games? “You and I both know that that’s me. But it’s not me, either.”
Randall agreed, “It’s not you. But do you know this person?”
“No, Randall, I don’t know that person.”
It was a clear face picture of someone that looked very similar to Matt. Same dark hair in the same style. Almost the same green eyes, but not quite. Similar style goatee. The chin was a little different than Matt’s, but the mouth was a pretty close match.
