Time Skip (13 page)

“So why didn’t you tell me?” She sounded irritated and skeptical.

“Uh... maybe because you told me not to.” Now he was irritated. “I know you haven’t forgotten about your big speech.”

“No.” She answered sheepishly then turned it back on him. “Well, how about now? Is there anything stopping you from asking me out now?” She seemed to be expecting another excuse.

He wanted to blurt out ‘2000 miles’ but thought better of it. It was an obvious answer, but it was also a lie. He was actually more than ready to move back to Detroit for her if he had to. The real problem was his mission, which he had no idea how to explain to her. He hesitated too long in formulating his answer and she cut him off angrily.

“Don’t bother trying to come up with an excuse. I figured as much. You know…” she started to tear up and her voice got shaky, “I should have known better than to ask you again. I always knew you just didn’t like me like that. I just wish you would have told me in…”

“Wait a damn minute.” he snapped. “Don’t get all upset with me. You didn’t even give me a chance to answer.” He paused, “Now listen… I want to be with you more than you can even imagine. I have never once, from the day I started to like girls, not wanted to date you. From the time you first asked me, to the time you told me you were through waiting, it took every bit of will power I had to not give in to that temptation. I will never really be able to explain to you why I had to say no, but I swear to you that it killed me to have to.” Lovelle stopped for a moment to let that sink in.

“But…” she started and he had to cut her off.

“Wait a second. Let me finish.” his voice softened, “I’ve been holding this in for too many years. Just let me get it out.” He paused again to organize his thoughts. “I didn’t hesitate because I have any doubt that I want to be with you. But, I do have a problem. I have something to do, and it’s gonna take me some time. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, or us, or relationships, or anything like that, and all I need is some time. If you can live with phone calls and occasional visits for a while, I promise, that when I get done, I’ll give you all of my focus. I’ll move back to Michigan if you want me to, and do everything to make up for lost time that I can.”

“It’s okay,” she said hopefully, “We don’t have to wait. I was ready to move here if you asked me.”

“That’s just it Trina, I’m not gonna be here either. I have to do some traveling. I’m not entirely sure where or for how long yet. All I know is that, I’ll be done in about a year and a half.”

“What do you have to do?” She was understandably perplexed. Lovelle didn’t exactly have a history of adventure and mystery in his life.

“I really can’t say.”

“Come on!” she said exasperated, “Don’t play games with me. If you’re just trying to find a way out of dating me, I really…”

“Stop it!” he cut her off. “Trina!” he said as seriously as he could, “I am not lying to you. If I wanted to string you along then this wouldn’t be so hard. Lying is easy. I could make up a story if that’s what I wanted. Being honest is the challenge. I have never strung you along, and I never will. Can’t you tell how dead serious I am? You’re my best friend, and I love you. I’ve loved you that way for longer than you can imagine. And I feel like I’m just the slightest bit away from being ‘in’ love with you. And I can’t wait to be there. I can’t imagine anything better than being in love with my best friend. So I’m begging you. Let me take care of this thing. All I want is time. We’ve waited so long. And I know that it was my fault. But, couldn’t you just wait a little longer now? I’m sure I don’t have the right to ask, but I have to.”

She didn’t say anything. She got up from her seat, walked over, took his hand, and lifted him gently. She embraced him and placed her lips on his for the first time. His knees nearly buckled. The anticipation of that moment stretched back nearly 40 years, and nothing had stirred him that way since first falling in love with Katie. It was a simple kiss. She pressed herself up on her tip toes and pulled gently down on his neck to close the gap in their height. Then she softly laid her lips on his. There was no movement, no pressing, just a delicate touch, which lingered teasingly. But, there was more passion in that simple kiss than he had experienced in this lifetime. And without a word she went and sat back down.

He sat himself back down, struggling to catch his breath, and stared at her for a long moment. “I’ve wondered what that would be like for so long.” She just smiled like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “I take it that means yes?” Lovelle questioned hopefully.

“What’s a little more time?” she shrugged. “You just have to promise me a few visits while I wait.”

“As much time as I can spare. I promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” She paused for a moment then continued. “Is there anything you can tell me about what you’re doing? Can I at least know where you’re gonna be?”

“Not very much. All I can really tell you is that I have a  research project to do. It’s sort of a government thing, but, not really. I’ll be in Germany in a couple of weeks. From there I just have to go where the project leads me.”

“How did you get mixed up with the government? I thought you were a teacher now.”

“Totally by accident.” He left it at that, and so did she.

Lovelle wanted to ask her to come home with him that night, but, he didn’t have the courage. Instead, he left her at the elevator of her hotel with their second kiss. She repeated the delicate performance of earlier, and he knew then that he had been right about how easily he could fall in love with her. He wouldn’t tell her now, but he was there, and it was cloud nine. He would have a hard time doing what he needed to do in his investigation. He would constantly be thinking how much he wanted to get back home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lovelle arrived in Hamburg in late October of ‘99. He intended to check out the mosques in the area. He still had a pretty good image of Mohammed Atta in his head, and he was hoping to spot him. If he was correct and Atta was based there now, then it should just be a matter of time before he found him. Locating Atta might just lead him to other conspirators, or jar his memory. If nothing else, pointing the authorities to the correct mosque would certainly be of help. If he could do even that, then he would call his efforts fruitful.

He felt a little like he was in a spy novel. At the same time, where the protagonists in those stories always seemed to have a plan, and the resources to carry it out, Lovelle was flying a little blind. He had money, but, he really didn’t know where to spend it. He couldn’t explain to anyone what he was trying to do. He would have to recruit his help under false pretenses, or purchase assistance by pure financial incentive.

The first order of business would be to find a translator and guide. Well, not really a guide. The last thing he wanted was someone looking over his shoulder while he searched for terrorists. What he needed was someone to point him in the right direction. Lovelle had one of those little pocket translators, but that was for handling restaurants and hotels, not identifying and mapping mosques. He just needed someone to point out the way and then hopefully forget they ever met him. Anonymity was one of his biggest concerns.

To keep from being noteworthy, he wanted to make his request seem totally reasonable and unimportant. Under other circumstances he would have gone to the American Embassy for assistance. But, he wasn’t comfortable chancing their attention. At the same time, he didn’t want whoever helped him to wonder why he
hadn’t
gone through the Embassy. Finally, he decided that he was being overly cautious.

To get the help he needed, Lovelle decided on the University of Hamburg. He was quite sure that he would have no trouble finding a Student ready to earn a few extra dollars, or deutsche marks to be precise, doing some fairly simple work.

He drove his rented van to the campus, and set about to find himself an American student. Although he was sure he would have little trouble finding a German student with strong English skills, he had decided that he would rather deal with an American. He wanted to gauge the reactions to his inquiries, and thought he would better be able to do that with someone who shared his own culture. If he were raising any suspicions, he wanted to know.

He found a place to park and set out on foot. He needed a place where there was a lot of pedestrian traffic. He soon found a bench to sit on and opened a copy of “To Kill A Mockingbird”, identifying himself as an English speaker while not appearing out of place. He was looking for some indication of who to approach, such as an American team jersey, or even just the sound of a voice speaking English. It didn’t take long at all before a couple strolled buy conversing in English. The young man sounded as if he was from the Midwest, and the girl was clearly German. As they passed, Lovelle closed his book and quickly walked up behind them.

“Excuse me!” he said somewhat loudly, not wanting to have to chase them down. Hearing another American, they turned around abruptly. The man motioned for him to continue, looking rather annoyed. “I’m sorry,” Lovelle launched into his prepared speech. “I was hoping you might be able to help me. I’m looking for someone to do a little translating.” He addressed himself to the American. “I couldn’t help noticing that you were a fellow American and I thought you might be able to help me.”

“Sorry buddy, I just don’t have the time right now.” The man said abruptly, dismissing Lovelle, then turning away.

“Oh, I don’t mean right now.” Lovelle was trying to sound as innocuous as possible. “You could meet me in the library later. It’ll be a quick fifty bucks.” Lovelle would have paid five times that, or more, but, that would really seem suspicious.

“I’ll do it!” The girl jumped in. Her boyfriend shot her a nasty glance, but she didn’t even notice. “We can go now if you like.” She said almost excitedly, “I have nothing to do right now.” Then she quickly turned and gave her boyfriend a peck, oblivious to his frowning face. “I’ll see you tonight.” She bid him adieu and then led Lovelle off to the library.

This was not what Lovelle had wanted. An angry boyfriend might be nosier than Lovelle liked. Besides, the man had to be a little unsettled by this. Lovelle certainly would be if his girlfriend were going off alone with some stranger. Also, Lovelle was looking for neither a German nor a woman for the task. Just as he didn’t have confidence in his ability to read the responses of someone from another country, he had no confidence in his ability to read the opposite sex. But, what could he do now? He supposed he could give her some unrelated task to do, pay her, and move on to some other locale to try again. But, again he decided he probably was being a bit paranoid

So he let her lead him to the library where they secured a telephone directory and he told her what he was looking for. He explained that he was a freelance writer working on an article about Middle Eastern immigration to Europe. The explanation appeared to travel in one of her ears and out the other. She was interested in the money, and nothing else, which suited Lovelle just fine.

As she worked he watched her writing down names, addresses, and numbers. He patiently waited for something to jump out at him. Finally she wrote one that struck a chord. When she wrote the words Al-Quds he felt sure that he had heard the name before. Then he realized that it was Arabic for Jerusalem. Still, he didn't believe that was why the name jumped out at him. More likely it was just the similarity to Al-Qaeda. In any case, he knew where he was going to start looking.

The young lady finished scouring the directory for mosques, cultural centers, and any other place the two of them could imagine being a gathering place for Middle Eastern Immigrants. She then plotted them on his map with ease. That was one advantage to having a local to help him. She meticulously numbered them to match the legend she had copied from the phone book. She had done a great job for him. Then she held out her hand for payment, “All done!”

Lovelle paid her the fifty and then added another twenty. “You were very helpful. And that took a little longer than I had expected.” He lied, “I wish I could afford more.”

It had actually turned out to be a perfect transaction. She offered all the advantages of being a native, yet was utterly disinterested in his motivations. They had not even bothered to exchange names. He could not have scripted it better.

*****

That evening Lovelle sat in his hotel trying to psyche himself up for the task he was about to undertake. Up to that point he had really failed to take stock of his situation, and he felt the first real reservations about what he was doing. If things went as he was hoping, he would not only be staking out an anti-American fundamentalist mosque, but, he would be in immediate jeopardy of coming into direct contact with people who would soon crash airliners into the World Trade Center. That is, if he didn’t stop them.

These were not people who would take kindly to being watched, especially by a nosy American. He didn’t imagine that Atta and his core group would hesitate to do him in if they had any idea of what he was up to. Even the fundamentalists who knew nothing of the plot could hardly be expected to take his interest in their activities as benign. If Al-Quds, or any other mosque he would be observing, were in fact the mosque he was looking for, he would be placing himself in some measure of danger as soon as he started watching them. It wasn’t something he had fully considered before now.

Lovelle found sleep to be rather elusive that night. He tossed and turned through the night, only falling asleep a couple of hours before the time he had intended to get up. When his alarm attempted to rouse him he hit the snooze button several times, finally relenting half an hour later. He was afflicted with a giant knot in his stomach and was in no great rush to get on with the task at hand.

For breakfast he forced down a pastry and a glass of juice, and then set out for the day. He had been driving around in a rented Cargo van, which would provide him with cover should he be fortunate enough to find a place to park within eye shot of the mosque’s entrance. The inside was equipped with a cooler and a lawn chair in the hopes of finding such a locale. If nothing else, it would provide him with a good base of operations. He stopped at a market and picked up some food and ice then proceeded to look for the mosque.

As it turned out there was a perfect place to plant himself. The mosque was located at the convergence of two roads which ran diagonal to each other. At the point where the streets met, there was a small parking lot whose spaces ran almost parallel to the street where the mosque sat. This allowed Lovelle to park so that the rear window offered him an almost perfect view of the mosque’s entrance.

He planted himself in that prime location and began his vigil. He had no real notion of how long he might stake out this particular location if Atta didn’t show. He had a very strong feeling that this was the place. He could be a very patient person and he had little inkling of how often Atta would be attending mosque, or at what times of day. He was certainly in no hurry, at least not yet. Still, Lovelle hoped that if this were Atta’s place of worship he would show his face within a few days.

Lovelle settled in to the most comfortable folding chair he could buy, cracked open a cola, slipped it into the drink holder built into the arm rest, then retrieved the two pairs of Bushnell binoculars in his duffel bag. One was low power, allowing him to scan the area around the entrance. The second was a high power set with image stabilization so he could get a close look at anyone who might draw his interest. On his lap was his 35 mm camera with the telephoto lens. Lovelle really felt that he was ready to go.

He wasn’t.

The first obstacle was sheer boredom. There are a million ways to pass the time when you’re alone. Lovelle would have been happy to read a book or a magazine. He had several fun little games on his laptop he could have played. But when your sole purpose is to look at every face that comes and goes from a building on a busy street, anything that requires even a modicum of attention must be set aside for fear of missing the one person you are seeking.

What he
could
do was eat and drink. This, in turn, led him to the next obstacle. About three hours into the day he just simply had to relieve himself. Lovelle had quite a strong bladder, and could normally go twice that long without difficulty. But, he had rather unconsciously drank five Colas while he sat watching, and could hold no more. This was not something he had considered in advance. Even if the inevitable could have been delayed by a few hours, he would still have to contend with the issue. Since he was working to maintain the illusion of a vacant vehicle, Lovelle did not want to exit the van to locate some place in the vicinity at which to empty his bladder. He figured that the only way he would be able to park there day after day without raising an eyebrow would be to look as though he were employed in the area. That illusion would be ruined should anyone see him coming and going from the vehicle without moving it.

Another option was to drive somewhere where he could take care of his business. But moving the van without coming and going not only risked looking suspicious, but, also losing his prime space in the now crowded parking lot. So he settled on option three, relieving himself into empty pop cans. This was a messy affair. Fitting the remnants of five cans into one was impossible, and knowing when to switch cans was a learning process. Lovelle was grateful that he had thought to buy wet wipes to clean up after his lunch. He was even more grateful for the fall temperatures and generous cloud cover. He could only imagine how much worse the smell could have been had some hot summer sun warmed his cans of urine. He would have been horrified to have had anyone enter the van that day.

Lovelle sat there somewhat less than patiently until night fell. He tried to watch for a little while longer, but, found it all but impossible to make out the features of people’s faces as they passed briefly under a light at the doorway. Atta could come and go right then and Lovelle would have no way to be sure it was him. He left for the evening, mildly disappointed. But, he could hardly be surprised at failing to locate his quarry on the first day.

*****

The next day Lovelle arrived with a second cooler, several half gallon jugs of water for urine containment, more food and drink, and, if the cooler’s specifications could be believed, enough ice to hold him through the next several days. He had also purchased some air freshener specifically designed to remove pet urine odors. The next two days went very much like the first, save for the peeing in cans. Each day he was able to keep his urine sealed in a single bottle and iced down in its own cooler. This made the experience somewhat more pleasant, even if the results were the same.

The fourth day started off just like the others. His level of boredom was increasing exponentially, and so was his snacking. By the time lunchtime came around he had eaten so many chips he wasn’t really hungry. He nibbled at a sandwich, just wishing for something interesting to occur. Then he got his wish.

As he held the binoculars to his face trying to focus on a man about to enter the mosque, another man’s face peered in though his rear window. Through the binoculars the face appeared huge and blurry. Startled, Lovelle dropped the binoculars and nearly fell backwards in his chair. He caught his balance and focused on the man, who discreetly held a badge up to the window. The man muttered something in German and Lovelle answered him with a blank stare. His heart sank down to about the level of his knees. A moment earlier he was wondering if he had it in him to continue on with the monotony of surveillance. Now he was thinking how pleasant that boredom had been as opposed to the fear he was feeling.