Eye Spy; touch on Adirondaks Noir Night

When we return, it has begun to snow covering the windshield and the hood of the car. By now it is about twenty past midnight, I notice, glancing at my phone as we pull up to the old general store front, alongside the fuel pump to park; the Chevy parks at first beside us until Jörn quickly jumps out of the truck, and to Deiter in a kind of snarl he says,

“Deiter, can you be more fucking obvious?” but doesn’t wait for a reply and says, “how about you park this behind the trees— oh, and—try not to have another flat tire while you do that,” I hear him say

I watch Jörn as he stands by to watch Deiter get back into the van. Jörn walks around then to follow and direct exactly where to move it to. 

There is a tension now surrounding Jörn that I become more hyper-sensitively aware of. It sets me somehow on edge, like an alert that seems to send shock waves through me

I tell myself it is only that he is now in his combat mode, but a cold sets into my bones with a chill that runs from the top of my spine down, and with it a shudder that rushes through me that lingers up my neck to my face and causes an uncomfortable aftershock everywhere and all through me.

With trepidation, I open the passenger door to get out as I watch Jörn walk around the van and in a low tone, direct the others to wait as they get out of the van. Jörn turns to me and motions with his hand for me to walk over

“Wait here a second,” he says into my ear before he goes to lock the truck, but not using the alarm remote. When he walks back to me, he takes my hand and we walk past the small group but he keeps me away from walking too near them, then once we climb the steps to the porch to the door, he unlocks it and stands by the door and with a motion to them, waves them to go in, then waits as they file past us

They go first up the darkened stairwell and— like the other time, I can hear the ruffle of bat wings in the darkness and along with that comes a distinct and somehow eerie scent, rather hard to describe 

“What the fuck!” one of them says

I look up at Jörn as he hides a smile and locks the door behind us, enclosing us all in the darkness. I watch him text into his phone then and a moment later, the door at the top of the stairwell opens and lets in light where Willem stands and says,

“goed— now we are all here; alles is goed,” and ushers them past the door, “the others only just arrived.”

The light in the dungeon seems almost bright now stepping in, but the chill still remains with me; then a kind of whimper escapes me involuntarily as I feel myself object when Jörn lets go of my hand.... presently back in the dungeon which has been my private prison of domain but now occupied by eight men all at least twice my size in muscle and body mass and all clearly carrying loaded devices I’ve mostly only ever seen from the safe cover of a monitor or film screen —besides that moment earlier briefly, facing the deer-hunter’s rifle 

It is obvious they all know each other as some trade remarks to each other in other languages; it is hard for me to distinguish the dialects in the rush and find it all overwhelming 

I inch back towards the conveyor belts that feel more like familiar friends to me, knowing these corners of the underground, knowing where the belts lead, the turns and now— all the secret doors. And right now I find I want to melt right into the walls. 

But Jörn introduces me, moving over to me, and as he does this, I watch him look around, his eyes stopping on one of them briefly before he says,

“make sure nothing happens to her—protect her with your life, do I make myself clear? If you slip up, you’ll live to regret it and I don’t just mean by me,” then he nods at Willem, “Willem will walk you through the plan but first—any news on the feds?”

“I got new intel updates on ops from my guy inside— they are due to arrive at Point Au Roche around dawn,” Willem says and I see the look of surprise on Jörn’s face, “I just received word as you showed up,” Willem explains 

For just a second I see Jörn’s expression change as if recalibrating and then he says,

“....ok.... then that changes things....” Jörn looks at me and then with a kind signal by raising one brow at Willem, Willem steps away and walks over to us

“What’s up?” he asks Jörn

“Take them into the bunk room—I don’t want them to see where we go. Just let them get comfortable in there. You can show them the kitchen and the showers—there’s beer in the store. I’ll join you shortly.”

Jörn waits as we watch them go towards a curve in the catacombs and disappear past and then he says, 

“let’s go.”

We go the other way. Then stop at one of the glowing lamps and Jörn looks at me,

“you do it.”

Only it’s a different lamp. I am not sure where to find the inverted part to hit. I look up at him

He shakes his head,

“find it. It’s there. You know the code.”

But I feel shaken as the fear seems now to have taken over me,

“I can’t see it! —Jörn....”

“You need to do this. Look for it,” he says

I take my phone and use the flashlight. Then find it. It takes a few hits before it pops the flap where the keypad is.... and hesitate as I think of the numbers going backward and press them in. Then hear the click 

“You lead the way,” he says to me

“I don’t know it....” I say 

but he waits 

I start to walk to the right but change my mind

“What are you doing?” he asks me

I go back to the right again and he follows me. We pass the rover but he says,

“do you see how it curves in the wall there? Right by this lamp? It’s different, isn’t it? And this light is more yellow, you see?”

“Yes,” I stop at that light and find the place and hit

Then we go up the narrow tree trunk winding stairs to the hobbit door

and once inside I rush over to the cot —and without thinking, reach for the hides stacked up on it and press my face into them falling against them

“Are you ok?” Jörn asks me and sits down next to me

I don’t answer. 

I feel his hand against on my shoulder and then he gets up, I hear his boots as he walks and then hear a click and the telltale whirr of a space heater motor turn on. He walks back over and sits down next to me on the cot, reaching for me,

“you’re shaking....it’ll warm up in here soon....” he gets up again and in a moment I feel the heaviness of a blanket fall around me in warmth. “You’ll be safe in here. Just stay in here. I’ll be back in awhile. Is your phone charged?” but he reaches into my pocket for it and then replaces it, “we have to go over strategy—it won’t be happening tonight— but possibly some time around dawn—possibly can get some sleep. I’m glad, it’s better this way —I’m actually relieved they’re on their way—“

“You think you can sleep?” I sit up to look at him

He shrugs,

“you should. It’s been a long day.”

“Jörn, how can I sleep?”

He turns now and walks back towards the door,

“at least try. I told you there’s a lavatory through there—there’s a shower and a water-cooler I put in. It has hot water. You’ll find some packets of tea and snacks and things in a cabinet. You haven’t eaten, maybe you should.”

“I want to brush my teeth,” I say

He smiles and opens the door to go,

“look in the trunks, you should find some things. I’ll be back—just stay in here, ok? No matter what, don’t leave.”

He starts to go 

“Wait—Jörn!” I run over to him and pull him back

He smiles and says,

“I’ll be back,” and leaning down to me, presses his mouth against mine 

    ....and then goes  

Driving back to the dungeon

 

“You know the way you can remember every detail of a song that you listened to over and over as a kid or a teenager on the radio? ....every pause —even a jingle of a bell of a Christmas song all the way back from childhood....? How you can go for years without ever hearing it even once and then —someone plays it.... and you remember the whole thing all by heart....?” I turn to look at him with his profile to me, “....Jörn.... ? —you know what I mean?”

“Yes....” he says and then glances at me

“So .... why.... ? I mean....” 

“Why don’t you remember how to play your piece?” he finishes what I started to say

“I mean, I won two awards, Jörn, which means I had to play that piece over and over! You’d think— I mean .... I remember .... I do—sometimes....sometimes....I mean, I can remember .... sort of—like—I can hear it ....echoing in my mind.... like it’s right there on the edge of my memory .... when I’m waking up from.... a dream....a bad dream ....I can never remember—”

He glances at me again but only just taking a moment away from watching the road before looking back. 

After another long moment in silence he says,

“I think we both know why that is. It’s not so unusual. It shouldn’t seem so to you,” he says

“How do you mean?”

Shrugging, 

“you have a degree in psychology....” and here he pauses again looking ahead at the darkened highway before us, then makes a thoughtful sound from within his throat as he pauses to say, “well then—you would have studied about repressed memory.... it’s not so unusual given what —you went through in your childhood.”

And I think maybe it is the tone I hear in his voice as he says this that catches me off guard....as it should have been obvious to me but— now, hearing it in his voice

And now ....I welcome the car’s darkness as I think. And turn to look out into the cover of night with the reassurance of the warmth that falls with the weight of my hair and search in the obscure noir shades of night ....where lies escape. 

Where lies escape. 

It lays and it hides 

and hides truth, even though it can set you free

After another silence he says,

“I think it would come back to you. Once you heard it again. Duva.... and I think your old psychiatrist Dr. Rothschild had begun to .... ”

I find this seems to make me only anxious as I suspect he is right.... as I know what we both know.... there is and has always been a reason for the codes. the rhymes. the Easter eggs of emotions. the dictionary, with its trail of crumbs. and it was never just about Cold War secrets to the one who lost those crumbs

“but Jörn—we might not have that luxury for such a chancy occurrence.... I mean—I think I realize now that .... you need the evidence of the safe—I mean.... to prove you are not some double-crossing terrorist—that the safe they think the other guys have is not the real one and the one down in the underground ....is — and so by opening the real one....would solve a lot of problems, right?”

“Well....” he concedes, still looking ahead at the road, “that isn’t what I’ve been counting on—not altogether. I’ve been working on another angle.... something I’ll tell you about later —but, I have other evidence. And I’m not exactly ready to hand over that safe just yet....” and I hear something else in his voice 

and only confirming concerns of what —exactly—we are heading back to

“so....” and then I think of something else suddenly, “Jörn— remember last summer?” I ask, “that really hot day? ....we were out hiking, do you remember that day? and I got dizzy?— and then I passed out —but....I think— weren’t we talking about the safe—? yes.... we were—and wasn’t that when you told me —it was back in Sweden?—wasn’t it? What was it you said?.... something.... what was it? —like.... you were really angry, I remember— and you were saying how this was to do with your case —and— you felt it wasn’t for them to take it and that it should belong here with you but.... you know, it just doesn’t make sense—and it didn’t to me at the time either....I mean— so.... What was the real reason you didn’t want your government to have the safe?”

When I search his profile now in the darkness of the truck I see the smallest tension in his jaw and then that slight flair of his nostrils as he grips the steering wheel and sort of smiles —or.... is it a grimace?

“It wasn’t that exactly....” he says

“Then what? Because you implied it—you said something like ....I don’t remember now....”

Only he seems to withdraw himself and only stare straight ahead so I decide to let it go

But it is almost when I have forgotten my question that he says, 

“it is that I didn’t want it to get in the wrong person’s possession.... I knew it was safer to get it away from there then to allow it to end up in the wrong hands.”

and suddenly I realize,

“So, you mean—you think there’s a mole?” 

With a quick glance at me he says,

“I do....”

“....and you know who it is, don’t you?”

“Yes.... and .... right now he’s very near.”

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