It had been only five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Justin resumed his jogging, heading toward the west and going all the way to the Boathouse, which was Anna’s favorite Saturdays’ breakfast place. He turned around and slowed his pace because of a burning sensation in his lungs. He rubbed the spot where the bullet had hit his vest two days ago. The Saudi doctors had warned him to take it easy and not overexert himself. Obviously, he had not listened to their advice.
When he arrived at the townhouse, he saw Anna’s BMW parked in the driveway. Carrie had returned. She wasted no time. He glanced at his wristwatch, realizing he had lost track of time. It was almost seven-thirty.
“Carrie, you’re back already,” he said as he went inside.
He heard no reply, so he walked through the hall and to the kitchen.
“Carrie,” he called again.
The sound of splashing water from the bathroom explained her absence. She was taking a shower.
Justin climbed the stairs to the second floor. He took a long shower in the master bathroom, scrubbing sweat and dirt from his body and the stale odor of recycled air from their long airplane trips. When he came downstairs, Carrie was sitting on the leather sofa by the large bay window overlooking a swath of green space with a few pines and cedars between the rows of townhouses. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.
“Come here,” Carrie called to him. “Look.”
She pointed out two black squirrels chasing each other among the trees. They were making loud clicking sounds, each seemingly claiming the territory as their own.
“Isn’t that cute?” Carrie said.
“Very cute. Anna likes to sit here and look at the wildlife. All sorts of birds come up here from the river. Geese, ducks.”
“Must be nice.”
She reached for her cup from a coffee table by the couch. “I made some raspberry tea and coffee.”
“Blue Mountain?”
“Yeah. I figured that was your batch.”
“It is. A friend brought over a package from Jamaica. Anna loves it as well. Thanks for making it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Justin walked to the kitchen and poured himself a large cup.
“What did you buy?” he asked. He returned to the window and sat on the couch across from Carrie.
“This.” She flattened her blue blouse. “I also got a sweater and a knitted cardigan. Very stylish. And a black felt coat and two pairs of jeans.”
“And sweatpants,” Justin said.
“Yes, so comfy.” Carrie stretched her legs. “Those tiny airplane seats are so bad for my back. My legs were numb half the time.”
“Enjoy the sofa for now. Tomorrow, we’re back in the air, again crouched in those small seats.”
Carrie sipped from her cup. “Not until the afternoon. I’m planning on having a good night rest and sleeping in tomorrow morning. What about you?”
Before Justin could reply a small Honda pulled into the townhouse driveway. “Lee’s Palace” and a large dragon were stamped on the side. “Our supper?”
“Yeah. I ordered when you were in the shower.”
“Sweet. I was actually thinking of some good spring rolls and Wonton soup.”
Justin paid the delivery man, and they sat at the dining table, across from the living room.
Carrie asked, “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
“I’m going to see my old man.”
“He’s still at Montfort?”
“Yeah. The hospital wants to run more tests, but he… dad’s so stubborn.”
Justin found it difficult to use the word “dad” when referring to his father, Carter. Their relationship had been strained since Justin’s mother drove off a bridge when he was eleven years old. Justin blamed his father for his mother’s death and grew up hating him. Things had begun to improve after Carter was been diagnosed with lung cancer and was told he only had a few months to live, a year at the most in the best-case scenario.
Justin said, “He just wants to do the surgery in the States. It’s a new procedure, not yet available here, and quite dangerous.”
“What are his chances?” Carrie stopped eating.
“It depends on whom you ask. Doctors here think the surgery will do little, and his cancer will come back. The hospital in California promises a miracle.”
Carrie nodded. “I know. When my mom was showing the first signs of Alzheimer’s we checked for new drugs and treatments. There are many options in the States. We tried a few, and they seemed to help.”
“That’s good. You mom’s still in Toronto, right?” Justin finished his soup and moved the plastic bowl to the side.
“Yeah, Susan moved her there over the summer, since she got a new job in the city.”
Carrie sighed and leaned back in her chair.
“What is it?”
“Oh, I just wish I could see her more often. With our ever-changing schedules it’s just so difficult to plan. And mom is slipping further and further away. Soon she’ll be just the shell of the strong woman she used to be.”
Justin reached over the table and held her hand. Carrie shrugged, then looked away.
He said, “Yesterday morning, when I woke up in the hospital in Saudi Arabia, I thought about all the dead people around me. Not just in the camp in Yemen, but throughout this mission and other missions. Death seems to come and take away the people around me, like Birgit. You were shot at in Somalia and Yemen. Yuliya was wounded. What if I bring death to Anna as well? Maybe she’ll be better off without me.”
Carrie shook her head. “That’s one way to see it, but you can’t blame yourself for wanting justice and doing justice. Terrorists will seek revenge and wage war against everyone, and just the fact of being an American, a Westerner, or an ‘infidel’ is enough to warrant death. If it’s not you or Anna, it will be someone else and their loved ones.”
“But it’s me, and this is personal.”
“Right, and you’re the one to fix it. We’ll stop Johnson and unmask her for who she truly is: a spy and a traitor. We can’t kill all terrorists, but we’ll sure give it our best try.”
Justin nodded. “Just a moment of weakness, I guess.”
“It’s fine. It’s not weakness to worry about the ones you love. No one’s judging you or concluding you’re weak. You’re human. You’re allowed to have doubts.”
“Yeah, some days more than others.”
Carrie nodded. “Me too, me too. I just tell myself I chose to do this job, and I will damn right do it until I draw my last breath.”
“Terrorists want a ticket to paradise. I’ll be more than happy to give them one.”
“Now take some time to rest and relax. Tomorrow we have a long flight, and Friday it’s time to party.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Justin and Carrie travelled to Moscow under authentic Australian passports they had never used before in any operation. No reason to raise suspicions among Russian custom officials. A clean entry and high hopes for the same kind of exit.
Their Aeroflot flight took them to Terminal D about one o’clock in the afternoon. The terminal — a state-of-the-art facility completed in 2009— had a unique design. Its centerpiece was a majestic dome resembling a swan with its wings stretched, the wings being the two halls of the terminal. Justin had read the architect was inspired by Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake ballet and the Russian culture. Its full beauty was better appreciated during the airplane descent over the terminal.