first nothing happened and he gave the thumbs up sign. In the next instant he was doubled over in a fit of coughing. “Look you guys, I’m a drinker, not a smoker,” he protested. After more prodding from his friends, he finally inhaled deeply and tried to hold the pungent smoke inside his lungs, but it was no use-again he exhaled, his mouth spewing out thick white smoke, his lungs on fire, his eyes watering. “Shit,” he managed between coughing and spitting. “And you call this cool?”
As the fat joint made its way around the circle Demetrie was busily preparing a second one. Within minutes, a mellow mood descended on the nine students seated on the floor of the ancient monastery. Matt, recovered from his coughing spasm, downed two beers and tried to cool his throat.
“So what’s this crazy world coming to?” said Todd, the first to speak up after a long lull. “I mean is the Middle East going to be the crucible for world destruction?”
“If you believe that spook William Fisher we’re all doomed to be dragged into a holy mega-war.” Brian Walker reached for a beer. “God this shit makes me thirsty.”
“It’s all right for you Americans to have a few joints, drink and complain about conditions here in the Middle East,” sighed Bedouina. “It won’t be long before you jump on a plane and fly back to America and your safe lives. In the meantime we’re stuck here waiting for the Israelis to attack again like they did at the airport in December. Only this time they’ll probably drop a nuclear bomb.”
Matt could barely understand the conversation as it bounced back and forth. His ears were ringing and his mind had morphed into a nonsensical kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, smells and images. He downed another beer, trying to stop the onslaught of images as Maha rocked him back and forth in her arms. Matt vaguely recognized Karl Mitchell and T. J. among the sea of faces; everything seemed surreal and disjointed. Sometime later, he opened his eyes as two older men joined the group.
The next day, trying to recall the events of that evening he couldn’t determine whether they had been real or just drug induced hallucinations. The strangers were introduced by Demetrie as true patriots of the struggle of the Palestinian people. Matt vaguely recalled something about an organization, a red and white keffiyeh, and two names-Mohammed and Yassar.
Washington, DC
The clock on the nightstand registered 6 A.M. when Nicole slipped into bed with him. “I couldn’t sleep very well without you,” she confessed, wrapping her arms around his warm body.
“I tried to read my journal,” Matt said groggily, rolling over and caressing her hair. “I must have fallen asleep. I don’t recall much.”
They kissed, seeking each other’s caress. A few moments later Matt fell back asleep. “Boy, have I got a great effect on men.” she murmured, climbing out of bed. Her toe struck the leather journal on the floor. She picked it up and silently closed the door.
Elijah was rummaging around in the kitchen. “So how’s Prince Charming?” He put a pot of coffee on the table. Nicole tightened her bathrobe to ward off the early morning chill.
“Comatose,” she smiled, pouring herself a steaming hot mug and wrapping her hands around its warmth.
“It’s nice having you here,” Eli said, avoiding her eyes. “It’s like things used to be…”
“Thanks for the sentiment but we’re both a little old to be playing family,” Nicole said. “And in case you don’t remember it was never like this. You were always gone. Mom worried you’d disappear forever during one of your clandestine forays.” Nicole caught herself too late-she could see the hurt in the old man’s face. He turned toward the sink and rattled a few dishes.
Nicole went to him. “I’m sorry, Dad. That just came out. You’re right. We can enjoy the fact that we’re together now. Like I said to Matt the past should be filed in a dusty folder called ancient history.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m going to have my coffee and skim Matt’s journal. Why don’t you take a shower and get dressed? I’ll whip up some bacon and eggs for breakfast. Then I want you to read some of this stuff before he wakes up.” Nicole gave him a gentle push out of the kitchen.
Instead of leaving, Eli walked over to the kitchen cupboard and reached in the back.
“I hope you’re not having scotch at this hour.”
He withdrew a manila envelope closed with tape. Her name was written on it. “This is for you to open and read in case anything ever happens to me,” he said. “I suggest you put it in a safe deposit box somewhere, but only open it after I’m dead.”
Tears welled up. “What’s this all about, Dad?”
“It’s my life. I’ve written it all down over the past few years since I left the agency. There aren’t many national secrets in there, at least not anymore. I wanted you to know where I was and what I was doing during those times I wasn’t there for you and your mother. You should know. There are also a few other things in there that could be useful.” He turned to go.
“Well it’s gonna be a long time before I ever need to read this.” She watched him walk up the stairs. The manila envelope bulged as it lay on the table.
Later that morning, Matt Richards strolled into the kitchen, clean and dressed. “I feel like a new man.” He sat down at the table and accepted a cup of coffee from Nicole. His eyes darkened as he noticed Eli reading his journal.
Eli looked up. “Hope you don’t mind, Matt? That was quite a year you spent in Beirut. There are several big names in here-Martin Thomas, William Fisher, Brian Walker. Thomas is head of the National Institutes of Health, Fisher’s one of the top guys at the National Security Agency, and Walker’s a radical law professor at Berkeley. At least he was. He was killed about a month ago while giving a speech.”
Matt’s coffee mug hit the table hard. “Brian’s dead-what happened?”
“It was in all the newspapers. It happened during a protest demonstration about a month after the suicide attack on the President. Professor Walker was addressing a meeting of Palestinian-Americans at the Long Beach Convention Center. There was a large group of protestors gathered outside. They were pretty evenly divided into two opposing camps. Anyway at some point the crowd got out of control and broke into the convention center. Some of the demonstrators had clubs and knives and quite a few people were killed. Shots were fired. Brian Walker’s body was found lying behind the lectern, a bullet hole in his head.”
Matt sat still, remembering his young friend, the energy and idealism he exuded. Please let it be a coincidence.
“Matt?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay? I shouldn’t have unloaded like that.”
“No, Eli. I needed to know.”
“There’s more.”
Oh shit. “So let’s hear it all.”
“I hang out occasionally with some retired FBI types. We have a drink now and then, swap bullshit stories and try to keep abreast of things. For old times sake.”
Matt nodded.
“Seems the two security guards assigned to Professor Walker mysteriously disappeared. Their families don’t even know where they are,” Eli said.
Matt rubbed his forehead. The stitches itched worse at the moment and his head throbbed.
“After reading this journal and hearing your story I don’t think Brian Walker’s death was an accident, or a coincidence.”
“So you think someone may be trying to eliminate all the people I was with in Beirut?”
“Looks like it.” Elijah sneaked a glance at his daughter.
“Do you think Brian was a member of a terrorist cell?”
“No Matt, I don’t. But he may have known enough from his Beirut days to get himself killed.”
“That means others could be singled out.” But who? And why? “I have to find them – warn them.”
“There’s also a chance one or more of them are a part of this cell,” Nicole put in.
