Justin frowned. “Uh, what do you want to know?”
“What happened to her?”
“As mentioned in the report, she died during the shootout.”
“Was she the enemy?”
Justin hesitated. He shifted in his seat. “Yes. Well, no. She was the target’s wife and was caught in the middle of the shooting.”
Faith stopped writing and gestured toward Justin with her left hand. “Would you say her death was an accident?”
“It’s a bit difficult to say that. She was not an innocent bystander, since she was connected to and benefiting from the target’s illegal activities. An accessory to his crimes at the least and an active associate at best.”
Faith scribbled in her notes. “Do you think she deserved to die?”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not… I can’t pass judgment on who lives or dies,” he said softly, but in a tense voice. “Now we have the hindsight, the time, the cold mind to dissect and analyze each one of my moves during that operation. I only had a split second to make a decision, while I was taking fire. At that time, with the information I had, I think I made the right choice.”
Faith smiled. She checked something on her notepad and flipped the page. “How are you sleeping?”
Justin covered a yawn. “As you can see, not very well. I get maybe four hours a night, when I have the time to sleep an entire night.”
Faith nodded. “Nightmares?”
“Sometimes.”
“Any recurring ones?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to give me the details?”
Oh, I hope she’s not going to tell me my nightmares explain my unfulfilled desires.
“No, not really.”
Faith gave him a stern look. “Let’s give it a try.”
Justin clenched his teeth. He shook his head, then said in an annoyed tone, “Fine. I dream that I’m dying.”
“Uh-huh. Where does this happen?”
“I’m in my bed, sleeping. The door opens and someone walks in with a syringe or another sharp object in their hand. They stab me with it in my neck and I die.”
“What other recurring nightmares do you have?”
“Isn’t one enough?”
“No, not to get a good picture of your subconscious mind.”
Justin sighed. “My other nightmare is that other people around me die.”
“Who?”
“Carrie. Anna. My mother.”
“What happens?”
Justin dug his fingers into the chair’s armrests. He dropped his eyes to the hardwood floor and spoke in a low, soft voice. “They die, they just die. I watch them die. I stay there as they disappear, unable to help them. And it’s raining. It’s always raining.”
He lifted his eyes nervously and met Faith’s worried look. “It’s okay,” she said. “This is a safe place. You can talk here with no fear. You can be honest with me.”
She closed her notebook and put it away. Then she reached over to the table and turned off the voice recorder.
Justin stood up and walked to the window. The view was blurry, as the thick haze had engulfed the buildings. He stared at his own reflection, sad and confused.
“Am I… am I cracking under pressure?” he asked without turning his head.
“You’re having difficulties coping with some situations. You’re blaming yourself for circumstances beyond your control, and your mind is creating unlikely, yet horrific scenarios.”
Justin turned around. “Unlikely? They are very much real, Doctor,” he said, his hands spread out in front of him.
“Yes, death is a part of life. But Justin, you can’t and you shouldn’t protect everyone at all times. It’s simply impossible. Something could happen, will happen, where you will not be in control of a situation. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself for that.”
“What are you telling me?”
“I’m saying you need to start letting go of your fears. Learn to realize that some things you simply cannot control, but don’t be scared of the ones you control. It’s good to be a bit paranoid, just don’t let it turn into an obsession. Some people say the line between the two is very thin; others insist there is no clear line.”
Justin nodded.
“Come have a seat and some coffee. Let’s take a break and just chat, like acquaintances. This is not a doctor-patient session. The recorder is off.”
Justin hesitated.
Faith gestured with her hand. “Come on, Justin. This is a situation you can control. You can tell me as much or as little as you want. Or be completely silent. It’s your choice.”
Faith took her cup and sipped the last of her coffee. “I’m getting some more. How about you?”
Justin walked to his seat. “I’m fine,” he said, “I’ll finish this first. Maybe in a few minutes.”
They spent the next hour discussing Justin’s last few weeks, his operations, his behavior and feelings before, during, and after each operation, and their results, beginning with Justin’s former boss’s death in Spain, to which he had been a witness. Faith did not jump to conclusions or overburden Justin with the psychology lingo. Those were two things Justin liked about her. She just asked questions and kept her advice simple and to a minimum.
The third thing Justin liked about Faith was that her sessions had no specific ending time. She was available for as long as the patient needed her, since she scheduled her sessions in half-day blocks. Justin usually did not use all his allotted time, but once or twice they had run marathon sessions of over five hours.
Around five o’clock, their meeting drew to a natural end. Justin felt restored, a feeling he rarely experienced after a psychological session. He came out of Faith’s office with her positive preliminary finding that he was fit for work and could return to full duty, but also with a list of homework.
Faith had told him that because of his subconscious priming — big words which meant his previous experiences were influencing his present and future decisions and actions — a lot of his perceptions were constantly blurred by an anticipation of negative results, pain, and death. Along with the self-fulfilling prophecy, where people falsely interpreted a situation, Justin was seeing things that were not there, but his actions were making those things come true. Faith quoted W. I. Thomas, an American sociologist, that “if men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.” Justin would have to work hard on those two issues, to think and to work toward better, positive results. They would meet again before the Christmas break to assess Justin’s progress.
The supper with Anna was a delightful experience. They were both tired, but happy to be in each other’s company. Anna’s presentation had been a complete success and she was in very good spirits. Justin began practicing some of the things he had learned from his session, focusing on the positives, as they both made plans to visit Anna’s family for the holidays. He pushed away the worries about their future and about his upcoming mission to Moscow. They would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he was enjoying a wonderful evening with his fiancée.
Chapter Ten
Justin and Carrie spent most of their morning reviewing the files they had received from the NCS. The reports gave ample proof that a terrorist plot was in the works within the US. Two Chechen nationals residing illegally in the US and working as construction workers had been arrested a few days ago in Los Angeles, but their statements were sketchy and not very useful. They had heard about an attack being planned somewhere in the US, but a third man who allegedly knew more had disappeared from his apartment before the local police could arrest him.