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“Lucky that you did. You helped round up a lot of would-be terrorists. It helped the case against Lipori, him being associated with so many involved in these splinter groups, coming from all over Europe and North Africa.”
“Just doing my job. They also wanted to make sure I wasn’t part of it. Cooking and keeping house wasn’t aiding the cause.”
“Different for you. You were married to me, and you are an American. They’ve convicted housekeepers, lovers, and landlords who knowingly rent to these groups.”
He hesitated and then asked something Lydia could tell he’d been thinking about for a time.
“I need to ask you a question though. It came up during the briefing. Were the two of you intimate?”
Staring into his warm eyes, it was difficult to discern what was on his mind. Surely he didn’t think she’d slept with Lipori!
“Of course not. We were friends. He was like my benefactor, more like a brother, although he’s about my age but very rich. I was still shaken up, not knowing who I was or where I was, and I just had no recollection of where I’d come from. He offered to take care of me while I convalesced. I mean, flower gardening outside of Florence, selling them at the market, cooking, reading, and relaxing, what’s not to like about that? I had no idea I had this other life. Well, let me correct that. I knew there was something else. I knew there were special people in my life. Just couldn’t recall where and who.”
“So did he question you a lot?”
“Yes, but every time I got to feeling uncomfortable, I told him, and he stopped. I mean, Harper, I can’t really say I have any complaints.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Lydia. Groomers are good at taking good care of their prey. I know you want to think he treated you well because you’re a decent person and you deserved it, but he’s a cold-blooded killer, and in his heart of hearts, he only cares about one person, and that’s himself. If I could caution you about anything, I would caution you about that. He may appear to be reasonable, even kind, maybe even say he has an attachment toward you. I’m expecting that. But don’t fall for it.”
“Just how should I be? Should I react harshly? Now that I know what he did and that he took me away from the life that I loved, the people I loved?”
“I would maintain your honesty and your integrity, only lie to him if you must. Always protect everybody else in the group, yourself included in that. He’ll be able to tell when you’re lying. These ‘artists’ do that very well. More skilled than their interrogators, usually. It gives them energy, excites them to deceive people. Don’t tell him anything that will make you unsafe. You don’t want to give him any information he doesn’t already have. But he’s gonna throw some things at you that are going to surprise you.”
“Like what?”
He squeezed her hand and brought it up to his mouth, giving her palm a kiss.
“Sweetheart, if I knew that, we wouldn’t be on this plane. We’d be doing something else.” He wiggled his eyebrows for special effect.
She got it loud and clear.
“Okay, so be honest, be open, listen skeptically, but be compassionate? Do you think that would disarm him? I mean, it seems like a natural way for me to be.”
“I’d agree with that. Just make sure the compassion doesn’t translate to him that you care for him and try not to show that you care for me, even though he’s going to know that you do. You don’t want to arm him with some information he could use to hurt you later. To draw you in, to compromise you. To start telling tales and drive a wedge. He’s gonna want to do that. He’s gonna want to drive a wedge between you and me. He thinks you’re the softer one of the two of us. And I don’t think he’s right, do you?”
She giggled. “I think people underestimate me all the time. I think it’s sort of what I’ve lived with my whole life. Many women feel the same. It’s a secret weapon maybe. I notice things, I observe things about people, and I intuit certain things, keeping everything to myself usually. But somebody like him, who can turn off and on, who can cold-bloodedly kill women and children. Children! I saw the pictures. They showed me all the pictures.”
She shivered at the remembrance of that day of questioning. The most horrible day of her life—that she could remember.
“Did you recognize anybody who was killed?”
“It’s been a while, but no, I don’t think so. I really didn’t want to look. So trust me, I didn’t study the scene. But I did see the pictures of those little children that I must’ve helped, given them baby checks and inoculations, advising their mothers. It was mostly women and children, very few men. They were sitting ducks, Harper. There was no reason for this loss of life. Did they ever figure out why this warlord wanted to do this?”
“I think General Okubo had informants that told him these women and children were perhaps families of warriors who were in opposition to him. I’m not sure he kills just for the sake of killing, but I think revenge killing is rampant throughout most parts of Africa where there is armed malicious and military conflict. It’s warfare on steroids, except they’re getting anti-tank missiles and javelins and all kinds of arms from larger nations who want to see them get themselves blown up or destroyed. People make money on the murder and slaughter of women and children. It’s despicable. And those who try to help are left in the middle. After a while, on the Teams, I was proud of the work we did as far as rescuing people, getting the bad guys out, and bringing them to their ultimate end or interrogation rooms for the government. However, there was always ten more people standing behind them ready to take their spot. It was a never-ending cycle. I wonder if we did any good at all.”
“But of course, Harper, like in all things, you weren’t giving all the details. Just enough to do your job. Thank goodness all those men who died in World War II weren’t told all of the things their superiors knew before they went into battle. It’s a necessary evil. Doesn’t make it very palatable, and I feel so sorry for them. But they signed up for it, didn’t they?”
“Heroes always do, Lydia. That’s what makes them heroes. They do what they’re called to do. We need protectors like that. Otherwise, we have complete lawlessness, anarchy. They do it no matter what the danger is. That’s why their sacrifice is so utterly fantastic. You and I would do well to never forget their sacrifice. I know I can still see the faces of every man I served with who didn’t come back or who came back a little bit twisted. That’s not hard to do.”
She leaned against his shoulder, and he put his arm around hers.
“I’m just so glad you’re back. I’m going to try to catch a little nap if you don’t mind, and then I’d like to get something to eat when we land.”
“You got it. I’ll wake you up when we do.”
Lydia’s dreams were filled with fire and bloodied screaming. It was something she remembered when waking up in the hospital. Every time she closed her eyes, that’s what she heard and felt. Every person who’d walked into the room scared her, even though the nurses were all very gentle. She had been taken to an exclusive hospital run by Catholic nuns. Every person still initially looked like an enemy to her at first.
Later, it was explained to her by several of the nurses that she’d been involved in a terrible automobile accident. They told her she was an American living in a villa somewhere unknown, which happens, and had been involved in that horrible crash. Her loss of blood and the head trauma she suffered caused her to lose her memory, they said. They assured her this memory would return.
