Edge of Tomorrow (25 page)

She made her way back to her sleeper seat,
tilted it back to a 45-degree angle, and got down two pillows and a
blanket. She turned on her reading light and settled in with her
book. She had never been so comfortable on an airplane before.

Janet approached her and whispered, “Can I
get you anything, Syd? There’s a drink holder in each arm. Coffee,
tea, booze, hot chocolate, anything?”

“It
is
early for me. I know the time change tomorrow will play havoc
with my system, but maybe I’ll get to sleep faster with a nightcap.
I hate to be a pain, but do you have anything like a hot buttered
rum?” she whispered back.

“Sure thing, Syd. No problem. Coming right
up,” replied Janet.

A few minutes later, Janet returned with a
steaming drink in a tall, clear glass mug with a wooden handle.

“There you go, Syd. I’ll be in the back
getting some rest. Just come shake me if you need anything
else.”

“Thanks, Janet. I won’t bother you any more
tonight. Go get some rest.”

“Thanks, Syd. Goodnight.”

Janet settled into a seat in front of Sara,
and Syd sipped her warm drink and opened her book once more, hoping
she could focus on what she was reading so that her mind would not
wander back to reality. She had to shut down her racing brain or
she would never get to sleep, and tomorrow would be another day
played on Fast Forward.

After a few chapters, Syd looked at her
watch. It was only 8:30 P.M., leaving more than eight hours of
flight time to Ben-Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. She had finished her
drink. She got up and used the restroom, then checked on the
others. They were all asleep, even Janet. One of the prisoners was
snoring slightly. She went back to her seat up front by the lounge.
She still was not sleepy, and wished she had another drink,
thinking it might make her drowsy.

All of a sudden, she sensed something out of
the corner of her eye and looked up, startled. Hatch was standing
next to her seat, looming over her. He knelt down on one knee next
to her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered.
“When you checked the prisoners, I woke up. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I was just reading,” she whispered
back. “I’m sorry I woke you. And you’re not supposed to see me like
this—I’m a fright!”

“What are you talking about? You look like a
gorgeous teenager! I like your hair like that. I’m a light sleeper,
and actually get by with very little sleep—as long as I get a few
hours here and there.”

“Here I was thinking I was too young for you,
and now I look like a teenager? I guess you’ll have to be a dirty
old man,” she giggled.

She scooted over toward the wall of the
aircraft and patted the part of the seat she had just vacated. The
seats were quite wide.

“Sit here. You look uncomfortable down
there,” she said, still keeping her voice low so as to not wake the
others. He sat next to her, facing her, their thighs touching. The
warmth of his thigh flowed into hers and through her body. She felt
her unharnessed nipples harden.

“I couldn’t get to sleep this early. I’ll be
sorry tomorrow, I know. I had a warm drink earlier, but so far it
hasn’t helped. I was thinking of having another, but I didn’t want
to mess with Janet’s galley,” she said.

“I know where everything is. What were you
drinking? I’ll join you, if it doesn’t disturb you.”

“I’d like the company. I had a hot buttered
rum, and it was delicious. Warmed me through and through.”

Hot rum? More
déjà vu!
Kat’s favorite
drink!

“I’ll be right back. That’s one of my
specialties,” he said.

He went to the galley and began preparing the
drinks.

When his leg touched mine,
it was like electricity! I may never get to sleep now. My heart’s
pounding loud enough to hear! At least these surroundings will save
me from myself. I
definitely must
behave!
she thought as she tried to control her
breathing.

He handed her a drink, and sat back down next
to her. They clinked glasses and tasted their drinks cautiously,
since they were steaming hot.

“Did I fix it OK?” he asked.

“Perfect,” she replied.

“If you want to go back to your book, I’ll
return to my seat to drink this.”

“No, please don’t go. I wish we didn’t have
to whisper. Do you want to move to the lounge? You don’t look too
comfortable,” she said, not really wanting him to move.

“I’m fine here, if you are. I’m enjoying the
intimacy,” he replied with a smile. “What are you reading?”

“Tom Clancy’s latest techno-thriller. I used
to think some of his stuff was fairly far-fetched, but now that I
have met you and some of your toys, I would say he needs to expand
his imagination if he wants to approach reality,” she giggled
quietly.

She laid the book down and switched her drink
to her left hand and rested her right arm on his knee.

“Did you ever read his book
called
The Hunt for Red
October
?” he asked.

“No, but I saw the movie on television. It
was about a Russian submarine and the CIA wasn’t it?”

“That, and more. It was published in
October of 1984, and really reflected many of the Reagan-era themes
at that time. That was the glory days of the CIA as the public
likes to think of them: emphasis on national security; the Soviets
were the
Evil Empire
; covert
operations were the norm, not the exception. The Era of
Confrontation, not negotiations. Things were actually more intense
and sinister than the book portrayed. Did you ever think about how
the timing of events affect your life?” said Hatch.

You’re telling me! What if
you hadn’t gone to
The Blue Grotto
for lunch instead of
Lou’s Crab
House
? What if the hit men had attacked me
a day later? Or sooner? I would never have met you, or I might be
dead! Is that what you are thinking?
she
thought.

“Yes, occasionally.”

Hatch was thinking of something different
from what she was, however.

“In 1981, I was a Threat Assessment
Analyst at a desk in Langley. No covert ops or scary things to make
waves in my life. If Reagan hadn’t been elected President, I might
still be there. The strong emphasis on covert operations to curb
the ‘Evil Empire’ redirected my career. Without that change, I
would never have met Kat, never have started Triple Eye, never have
been at
The Blue Grotto
yesterday—and, of course, never have met you.”

“I’m flattered to be on the list of major
events in your life.”

He paused, took a sip of his hot rum drink,
and looked into her eyes.

When he didn’t say anything, she chortled,
“So you blame President Reagan for making you a billionaire?”

He laughed, “Actually, yes. Without his
policies toward the USSR, I would never have become a NOC assassin,
and everything else in my life has flowed from there.”

“I agree that sometimes events beyond one’s
control can change a person’s life. For example, in my case, my
parents’ murder. But I don’t believe that it is preordained by
fate—some master plan chipped in stone somewhere. I believe we
shape our lives mostly by the decisions we make. We nearly always
have a choice. I could have gone back to Harvard. You could have
said no to becoming an assassin. How do you explain meeting Kat and
falling in love? A man who—by your own admission—had a heart of
stone,” she asked seriously.

He thought for a while, and absently laid his
hand on her arm which was resting on his leg, and began stroking it
gently.

“I don’t know if I can. However, I had never
been stationed in West Berlin for R & R before. I normally just
passed through now and then. I had just finished a month in Moscow
with the most stressful type of cover—I had posed as a KGB Colonel.
It is so easy to screw up when you are trying to be one of them. I
found out later why they chose West Berlin for my R & R,
instead of somewhere out of Europe. In October of 1983, the U.S.
Embassy in Beirut was blown up by terrorists, killing 241 Marines.
Also killed was the CIA’s Director of Near Eastern and South Asian
Analysis. You probably remember that,” related Hatch.

“Barely. I remember everyone was wondering
what the U. S. response would be. Remember, though, I was only
fifteen years old and in high school,” she laughed.

“God, that makes me feel old! I hope
you have nothing against dating older men. You still owe me a
second date!” he chortled. “At least,
I
can
remember
the incident, so I’m not senile yet!”

She patted his leg and said, “I’m looking
forward to our second date, unless you feel like you’re robbing the
cradle! Ha! Ha! Just remember, everything is relative, and I’m no
longer a teeny-bopper. So far, I feel that we are very compatible,
unless you turn out to really be a dirty old man. Now, tell me what
the bombing in Beirut had to do with you going to West Berlin.”

“Well, like you mentioned, the U. S. had to
formulate a response. Also, a month earlier, the Korean airliner
KAL007, with 269 aboard, including 61 Americans, was shot
down—these are Reagan’s words—‘by the Evil Empire.’ While President
Reagan was formulating overt policy actions, the covert ones were
already unleashed. The Company was ordered to hit the enemy hard
covertly, with full deniability. My part in that covert punishment
was Karl Steiner, the leading Stasi hit man in Europe, who was
being sent into West Berlin to kill the American Ambassador. So,
that was why I was in West Berlin; normally, I would have been
elsewhere, and never had a chance to meet Kat,” explained
Hatch.

“Did the hit man come as expected?”

“Oh, yes. That was his last mission.”

“So, again, Reagan’s covert policies put you
in the place where you met Kat,” opined Syd.

“You could say that, yes. However, I don’t
know that any of this has any deep philosophical meanings, but it’s
been fun discussing it with you. I normally don’t have this sort of
discussion with anyone,” he answered, stroking her arm absently.
“You’re so easy to talk to.”

She sipped her drink without saying anything
right away, just enjoying his presence, and the warmth of his thigh
against hers, his hand on her arm.

If we were in a snowed-in mountain cabin in
front of a roaring fire, this evening could actually lead to
something. I guess I have to wait for Hatch’s Fate God to act in
the future and put us together at the right place and time, if
anything is meant to be between us. This is certainly not the right
time or place.

“I like talking with you, too, Hatch. I
really enjoyed our lunch today, also. With what’s scheduled, I
guess it will be a while before we can have our second date,” she
smiled.

“Maybe we can find some time in Istanbul. I
don’t want to rush the planning of the mission. It may take a day
or two.”

“I’ve never been there. It must be exotic—and
romantic!”

“Maybe you can do the Dance of the Seven
Veils for me,” he leered.

“You make me blush, sir! I don’t think I have
the talent for that,” she said, trying to look coy.

“You definitely have the body for it! I’ll
teach you to dance!”

“I think I’ll change the subject! You’re
making me self-conscious. Do you still play the piano and sing,
like you did with Kat?” she asked.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. We’re on a
‘share your feelings’ kick, remember? Yes, I still play and sing
when I get a chance. It’s what keeps me sane. I’m writing my own
Broadway musical—that is, when I have time. If I ever finish it, I
guarantee it will be produced! Even if I have to buy my own
theater! I have enough money to do that! I need a female lead. Do
you sing?”

“You are
full
of surprises! A multi-talented man if I
ever met one. I don’t have enough fingers to count them all! I’d
like you to play and sing some of it for me when we get a chance.
And I have a surprise for you! I do sing! I love to sing! I started
in high school drama classes, then at UCLA. I took voice lessons in
my teens. I helped produce some musicals at Harvard, just to keep
my hand in,” she bubbled.

“You’re amazing! Talk about multi-talented!
We’ll have to sing together next time we’re near a piano. I have a
great music room back at Klaus Haus. That’s where I usually spend
time alone, winding down. When I’m there, that is.”

“I don’t know how you do it all! When do you
find the time to run all of your companies?” Syd asked.

“I’m very fortunate to have found some very
great CEOs and management teams. The companies need very little of
my attention any more. I meet with the CEOs twice a year. I’m
always available by satellite phone—the Blue Phone. I keep an eye
on the figures by computer. I structured things that way so I would
have time for LRD. That’s where I spend most of my time. And doing
things like this, of course,” he replied, waving his hand in a
swath.

“I’ve kept you up long enough. Why don’t you
go back and get some sleep? I’m going to have another of these
drinks if you’ll show me where the fixings are,” she said.

“I’m not the least bit tired now. You’ve
stimulated me. I’ll fix us another drink. After all, it is only
nine o’clock.”

He got up and went to the bar in the galley
and began fixing two more drinks. Syd got up and shook her right
leg. It was going to sleep because she had not changed positions
for a half-hour. It began to tingle as the circulation returned.
She walked over and stood next to Hatch and watched him prepare the
drinks. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms under
her breasts, lifting them a bit.