I stand by the keyboard waiting, watching bigger and bigger pieces of wall crash onto the floor and crumble in a deafening level of noise. Holding my breath, I have to lean against the wall behind me as a dizziness begins to sweep over me, and inch myself closer to the keyboard until the length of it is parallel to my legs and then lean to prepare to grab it in both hands as I watch from my wall as the rubble tumbles in with white dust and then the noise of the drill stops, giving way to voices
At first it is several voices all shouting over each other. It is hard to distinguish any recognition to them, but I hear one of them say,
“How do we know it’s not a trap?” with an American accent
“There could be a bomb!” another American shouts
And then,
“she’s in there, we saw it on the monitor!”
And this voice I recognize
It is Willem
I let out my breath and breathe in with relief, letting go of the keyboard I began to grip. And when I feel able I call out,
“Willem! I’m here!” and fall back against the wall suddenly feeling even more dizzy
I watch as the familiar outline of Willem steps through the rubble of wall and in the dimness of the room, glowing from the other side, comes streaming rays of light all around him as he steps in and faces me
He looks around at the room which has been both my asylum and dungeon and now having taken it all in, he gives me an ironic half smirk as he shakes his head, with a friendly chuckle,
“dus, hoe is het weer, Dusk?”
It takes a moment for his meaning to come to me ....and when it does it makes me laugh
But I look down and put my face into my hands, still leaning on the wall
“Come,” I hear him say as I hear his footsteps walking towards me but his voice is softened
I shake my head, and after another breath I say,
“I was afraid it was Retnuh ....” and carefully I look up into his familiar face. Now aged over the years since I first saw him that day in the Dutch bar, the first time he approached me…. that day…. handing me his card and telling me he knew about my father. The same face with those distinctive features of nose and broad bones so characteristic of his country’s natives physical features. I find it a comfort to see in this moment as I search the bright blue of his blood shot eyes and whisper, cautiously, “Jörn?”
And when I see his eyes now they are veiled as he shakes his head and reaches for me
“So, it’s true? He’s gone?!” I ask him angrily
“Hey, Dusk, we can’t talk here—“ he says now and with his hand on my shoulder he turns to look behind him then looks back at me, “not here, you understand?”
“I don’t want to know! I don’t care! I don’t want to know anything! I never want to hear his name mentioned again, do you hear? He left me there, I hate him! Do you understand?”
Again, Willem looks over his shoulder than back at me,
“not here— come, let’s go— we have procedures and— you must be hungry, let’s get going,” and he urges me away from the wall and I let him pull me with him, glad of the support as the dizziness seems to give way to spots of dots, speckled black and shots of light.
we stumble through towards the broken wall, over the heaps of crumbled concrete
And once through I find that we have stepped into the part of the dungeon behind the cage, the furthest wall that faces in the direction of the bat stairwell
****
When we pass the cage, I glance over in its direction. I think how strange it is to see it now, it is like surveying, once again, another past life; it seems I have lived so many life times.... and so many in just this one.... and I notice how now without the computers and without those things I had associated with— but no, I will not let myself think about that, I will not let my mind even tip toe there.... but how void of connection I now feel to it as I look at it passing, wishing now only to quit myself of it, like the rest of my life here.... I don’t want to ever look at this place again
We go up the stairs that leads through to that faux cupboard with the guillotine door, now raised, and as the crew of troopers dressed all in black file through, Willem and I follow last into the old gutted farmhouse I have not walked through in months. And now I glance around and see it too has been cleared of all personal things, even my make shift studio. On the floor, as we walk through, I notice that it is littered liberally in cigarette butts, and notice too there is in the air and the walls, the smell of stale smoke that lingers and along with these unpleasant observations I see on the floor and surfaces of counters and shelving, discarded empty bottles, cans of beer, wrappers and left overs of packages of junk food, all clearly left behind by the visitors who had been living in the barnhouse as our unwelcome guests.
And I suppose at first, I was in no clear frame of mind so just now notice a certain two others of this group who lead the crowd of troopers out the door —and looking towards them, seeing only now, from out of the farmhouse kitchen window, as they are heading up the hill. Those two whom I am unfortunately more than a little familiar with, whom, I suppose, I should have expected; Smulligan and.... Stina—?
I glance sharply at Willem who presses his hand against my shoulder because my step falters and I stumble,
“Stina?” I ask Willem
He raises his brows and jerks his head towards the door,
“let’s go, Dusk, it’s going to be a long day, I’d like to get this part over as quickly as we can do it.”
I follow him outside and as we head up the hill, I feel such dread knowing we are now going to the barnhouse.... there is such a strange ache inside me at the thought of facing it now, a million mixed emotions .... one like a kind of violation— knowing that bunch of assassins were living there all this time. But it is coupled with another emotion that.... I am not ready to ....feel.... and so, it seems, that portcullis does for me, without much prompting to will it to —as it seems well-greased of late and hardly needs a nudge.
So as we enter through the back deck sliding glass door, I feel nothing looking into .... what once had been the home I shared with Jörn
....only.... this is what I tell myself. I say it to myself a thousand times as we go in and have to blink my eyes rapidly to keep them from letting the wet betray me
There are cold distractions to help me, though— on the walls in black spray paint are letters and numbers that make no sense to me.... the couches are covered in spills and stains and much of the furniture is broken. I think of the fight I witnessed on the monitors that day. And then, with a touch of absurdity, I think of what Lisa’s reaction would be if she saw what has happened to her hours labored over her interior design choices. But then, it must only be outright masochism that makes me actually walk right over to ....Jörn’s piano
.... but there I do actually sit down at it.... I stare at the keys in front of me. I think of his hands there. And I think of his touch. And all resolve is destroyed. I put my fingers on the keys remembering his notes.... notes to a stranger .... remember our hands there together
“We need to do this....” it is Willem telling me this as my fingers play the chord. But the piano is out of tune
“Ok,” I say getting up and don’t look at him
At the dining table Smulligan and Stina have set up office with open laptops and documents neatly arranged and piles of equipment in black zippered bags
It is Stina who begins in a sharp, no nonsense business voice directing ice cold eyes at me,
“sit down, this will take awhile. There are things we need to know,” and she begins the interrogation right away
“Do you mind, Stina?” Willem interrupts, “she’s been under there almost three days, she must be starved.”
But continues anyway with her usual compulsion of arbitrary methods by what ever whim seems to suit her needs, heedless of others opinions and looks boldly at me, and bluntly asks,
“where is Jörn?”
The shock of her question stuns me and I shake my head,
“don’t you know?”
“Why would I be asking?” she asks with a sarcastic smile
I look at Smulligan who is also looking at me and waiting for an answer
“How should I know?” I shrug defensively, “you don’t think I’d like to know that too?”
“We think you know,” Stina stares me down
“Do one of those bags have lie detector equipment?” I start to feel angry
“That can be arranged,” Stina smiles, unfazed
“Come on, she doesn’t know!” Willem protests
“And what authority do you have in this matter?” she looks at him, “I have more than enough reason to believe you know much more than you say yourself,” she says to Willem
“His story checks out,” Smulligan at last breaks his stone faced silence
“Do you still deny you and he have been intimately involved?”
I shake my head,
“me and Jörn or me and Willem? Didn’t we clear that question up a long time ago when you asked us?”
For an uncomfortable moment she studies me and then, point blank fires another question,
“where’s the safe?”
I rub my eyes feeling exhausted and now having enough of this line of questioning I say,
“really, go set up the lie detector because if you’re going to keep repeating these questions about things that I would like to know the answers to, then maybe we can save some time.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Smulligan says now
“And how would you know that?” Stina looks at him
“I got a nose for it, I know when people are lying,” he says
“Is that some play on words?” she snaps without humor and fires on, “do you know how serious it is to have that safe floating around out there? And our government does not feel comfortable with the American government getting their hands on that safe! —or anyone else’s!” she looks now at Willem
“I’m not one to quote the Bible, Stina, but maybe first, can I suggest— before your government go deciding what is best for the rest of the world maybe your government should, to borrow the quote, first ‘set their own house in order’ —before making claims of any semblance of law and order,” Willem chuckles and pushes back the chair he has been sitting in and stands up, “until then, I call this meeting closed. Let’s go, Dusk.”
****
He walks me outside out the front door as he talks,
“all your belongings here have already been packed up,” he is saying as I look around us at the commotion of activity all over the front lawn and in front of the house. There are SWAT team trucks everywhere and a helicopter landed in the middle of the property, which, this alone I find wildly unbelievable but to add to it, I realize he’s heading me right towards it
“Are we going in that thing?” I look up at him as we walk
He smiles,
“ever been in one? It’s fun, you’ll like it,” he says
“No, I’m afraid of heights,” I am saying but he’s still pushing me towards it
“Duck down until we get up there, it’s rather noisy too so we’ll be shouting!” now already shouting as we get closer
After Stina and everything else, what’s another hair raising experience, I decide as I’m forced to board the terrifying aircraft. And it must be the exhaustion of the past few days of events that I feel only somewhat dazed when we begin to take off.
I realize it is one of the bigger ones than those often shown on tv and after I’m fitted with headphones that has an attached microphone, making conversation possible on board, Willem explains that it is the kind the military use but this one belongs to the FBI
“I should update you on why this is necessary,” Willem says as we take off, “a few important things you need to know—“
“Ok, but first—where are we going?”
“We’re heading back to New York City— first I want to inform you, it’s all over the news there has been a shooting incident—not that’s exactly shocking these days, so— since the gun shots were heard by the neighbors down your hill, there were reports and you know the media, they couldn’t keep it from going slightly viral through the news sources —but what’s made it really big news is that somehow it got out it may have terrorist connections. So, there’s too much attention on this right now, we need to keep you out of sight, because…. the next thing you need to know is that ….it’s also everywhere —your— connection in this ….because you went missing. They posted your name and picture— because they were saying this was a suspected hostage situation and they were asking the public if you had been seen anywhere and for any information. So now we come to the real big problem: Retnuh and Deiter got away and are currently at large…. no one knows where they are, no one saw where they went—“
“Oh my god!” I let out an involuntary shriek that is a little too loud on the headphones, “he’s out there? I don’t understand, I thought I —“
Willem puts his hand on my arm to calm me,
“it was Deiter—we caught it on the cameras, well, some of it. He was busy knocking out all the surveillance cameras and knocking the system offline when he followed Retnuh after you ran. All we could track of what happened is that Deiter dragged him unconscious from the gym and we had no idea where you were. Maybe they had arranged a getaway car to be waiting nearby, who knows. They vanished….”
For a long moment Willem is quiet as this newsflash sinks into my sensibilities
I look out through the chopper’s front window screen and then the window closer to me but only vaguely aware of the landscape I stare down at. All I see are tops of trees broken up by occasional rooftops, large bodies of water and mountain ranges outlined by winding roads but they could have been images on a computer screen for all the connection I felt to anything I looked at, far more blown away by what Willem has told me
After awhile Willem says,
“so now, you should realize—you are still in danger. I have arranged for twenty four hour protection and arranged a few other safety measures. When we reach New York, there will be a private car waiting and I will introduce you to your driver who is now assigned to you for your protection. There will be four others in shifts routinely posted outside. We’ll enter the penthouse through the underground parking garage and go straight up, no one will see you arrive or enter.”
“The penthouse?” I look dully at Willem
“Ilya has been informed,” Willem says now and then after a pause he says, “tonight you will sleep there but tomorrow we go to another safe house and again, no one will see you leave. We’ll go out through the underground garage. The windows are tinted, no one will see inside the car.”
“Where is the safe house? And why am I not just staying at the penthouse?”
“Too many risks and that would be the first place they would look for you. There you will pack what clothes and belongings to bring…. the safe house where you will be staying is in the Hamptons. The house is in South Hampton Long Island.”
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