Black Hawk Day Rewind: An action packed spy thriller (Mark Savannah Espionage Series Book 1) (14 page)

55

Anna had insisted on going first to the cinema and then to dinner at the Lebanese restaurant in Dr Peter Beron Street.

At 9:00 pm, they were sitting at Koura and eating lamb Kibbee with chopped corn and hummus and the traditional chickpeas.

"You know Pavel, I didn’t find the movie very interesting. I was expecting more considering the reviews, the plot was obvious by the end of the first half. First the guy rejects her and so he loses her, then he searches for her around the world like a crazy guy and finally he saves her from prostitution..."

"Actually, I didn't like it much either, though the actors were amazing and the photography was very poetic; even when it showed horrible and violent images."

"Have you ever fallen in love with a prostitute?" asked Anna.

"What a strange question. No, I’ve never frequented them and, quite frankly, it makes me feel a little creepy. But I know a Greek angiologist who is eighty years old and very famous who married one forty years ago. They have two children and only a few close friends know their true story. I have known him for many years; unfortunately, we see each other very little as he moved to Ireland to be close to his eldest son."

"I’m very curious. Could you tell me something about them?"

"Every night when returning from the hospital, he had seen her walking on the sidewalk, this was back in the sixties. During the day she worked as a waitress at the port of Athens and in the evening she was a prostitute in the upper city, beneath the Acropolis.

“She was always elegant and beautiful and the only thing that betrayed her real job was her not so ambiguous postures and the fact that she strolled up and down the street.

“One evening he saw her refusing a proposal from a truck driver, and instead accepting one from a man who had come out of a tailor's shop who he recognized immediately: it was his neighbor, a married man with three young children. Do you know what a scandal that was at the time, the angiologist could not get her out of his head and she became an obsession for him, so he decided to talk to his friend who visited her every Wednesday, he wanted to know everything about her.

“On his way to work one morning he stopped his neighbor with an excuse. After he had sworn not to tell anyone about his meetings with the woman, the man told him that she was very sensitive and he was not ashamed to pay her because she made him very happy. So my friend got his courage up and one evening and tried too… after six months he asked her to marry him. To avoid gossip and scandals, he asked to be transferred to Germany and they moved to Mainz."

"She got very lucky. I wonder if she did it for money or for love," Anna said with an air of doubt.

"They have been together for forty years, Anna. However it works, and this is important. It is not too late, what would you like to do now?"

"Could you offer me a nice herbal tea at home. Have you got an infusion set?"

"Sure! I’ll pay the bill and we can go," Pavel said, he could not believe his ears.

When Anna went into Doko’s room at the university hostel, which in fact was a studio apartment, she was astonished by the order and cleanliness with which Pavel took care of his kingdom.

"Pavel, you always manage to amaze me, what a neat apartment you have! Tell me where I can find the herbal tea, I am going to prepare it."

"In the first cabinet, thanks. The kettle is in front of you."

Anna boiled the water and then poured it into two cups in which she had put filters.

A few minutes later, while they were sitting on the couch, talking about this and that, she stood up to take the cups, she put her cup on the table and sat down next to Pavel and came near to his lips, saying, "Maybe it's too hot, would you prefer these?"

"Anna, look, if you are doing this because I've done you a favor, let it be. I don’t want your pity…what was in the hummus?"

"You're so nasty, come here and shut up."

Anna began to kiss him and put her hand in his pants that she had wisely unfastened.

Pavel, amazed, unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse without parting from her tongue and squeezed her left nipple between his fingers as he slid his right hand between her thighs.

All of a sudden, as he sank his face beneath the mount of Venus, it was as if a spell had suddenly been broken, she jumped up and said, "Pavel, I'm sorry I cannot do this. It's late, I’ve gotta go."

"And you leave me in this state?"

“The babysitter leaves at midnight, can you take me home or shall I take a taxi?"

Pavel stood up, he refastened his pants slowly and without looking at her face, he went into the bathroom to wash his face then took his coat and the keys to the car.

They did not speak the whole way and when they stopped in front of her house, Anna said, "Thank you, I'm sorry, I…I'll call you tomorrow."

"Goodbye," said Pavel abruptly. He felt a sharp discomfort in his legs and at the same time in his soul. "Do as you like, to be honest right now I don’t care, you surpassed all limits tonight. I'm not your personal toy."

Anna looked into his distraught eyes, she had not done it on purpose, but once again Pavel was the shoulder for her to cry on, not a man to make love with.

She pushed open the door of the car and headed for the front door. Pavel watched her go in and then went home to take a cold shower.

56

Early the next morning, Pavel was still in a bad mood, so he decided to go to his bunker to finish the new smartphone for Mark.

He was hard at it till late morning. Finally, everything was ready, working properly and tested: he packed it and sent it anonymously by courier to the Dallas address.

Pavel decided not to talk to Anna that day.

57

At eight o'clock in the morning, finally rested, Mark arrived on the third floor of the Southwestern County Medical Center. He was thinking about the fact that he would no longer become a famous psychiatrist and that he did not care at all; instead he was worried because he had no intention of hiding his entire life under special surveillance like Davis in Argentina.

The issue was very complex, not only because he had to resolve the problem of Colonel Reed, who wanted to flush him out and kill him, but he would also have to rehabilitate himself with the British secret intelligence service and avoid ending up in some extremist unit at the agency that would happily make use of him for espionage operations or worse.

Even if Davis had seemed sincere, there were still many questions needing answers. Of course, Davis had brought him to Dallas for a reason, and Mark had every intention of finding out what that was.

David Marshall, the director of the neurology department, was waiting for him in his office and, when Mark knocked on the door there came a mumbled "Come in" with no harmonics; Mark laughed at the vision of Marshall with two chocolates in his mouth. In fact, Marshall’s left hand was holding a still untouched muffin and his right a cup of coffee.

"Thank goodness you only have two hands, David!" Mark said laughing.

"Would you like some coffee? A couple of chocolates? A donut?" asked Marshall winking. He opened a drawer in which he had just placed a tray with three donuts.

"Lucky you're a doctor!” laughed Mark. “What other goodies have you got in that drawer? Any serious vices you need to feed? Do you smoke? Drink? Use copious quantities of drugs?"

"No, no, I only have a few olfactory hallucinations sometimes. I smell truffles, but I can’t explain it, maybe you can find an explanation. I'm joking!"

"I was falling for it, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised at all. When I was finishing my PhD, I looked after a colleague who couldn’t cure his fixation on snakes: every so often, when he was at home, he had hallucinations of a snake that passed through his living room and then disappeared under a piece of furniture. He was desperate. No treatment worked and under pharmacology therapy his condition was worsening, and then he came to me."

"What was your diagnosis?"

"First, I called in a reptile disinfestation service, since he had a home with a garden. No one in his family had thought about it. Sure, of course, they had looked for the snake several times, but without results."

“Then?"

"I immediately made him stop the treatments and drugs. And we found it: a fine specimen of a Natrix."

"I can’t believe it."

"Yeah, it's an episode worth dwelling on."

"Here, instead, we have two people that arrived about a week ago: one suffering from Internet addiction disorder, male, 15 years old, and the other, male, 37 years old, has a BlackBerry dependency that so strong it’s even disabling.

“They were sent here because, despite several expert opinions, neither of their problems had been solved; in fact, they were getting worse. I've called you here for this. Frankly, like my colleagues, I don’t know what to do with them."

"So this is my job?"

"You’ll assist the residents, the hospital patients, and work on these two cases. There’s still no established literature that can offer guidance, so I’m placing my trust in you, Dr. Stearman! We'll meet every day to discuss the development of the two cases."

"OK, David. Where are the patients?"

“They’re hospitalized on this floor: East Wing rooms 324 and 331. Here are their medical histories. Let’s go."

Marshall got up and walked to the east wing followed by Mark, then stopped in front of a door that bore the name plate Dr. M. Stearman.

"There you go; this is now your office. You can install whatever you think is appropriate, and you can improve its decor as you want, at your own expense, of course. The laptop is already configured, and now I’ll call a technician to show you the procedures, applications, where you will find the archives of medical records, sensitive data, the diary of patients, and will set your access level. Well, I’ve told you everything…at this point I just need to say goodbye and have a nice day Mark!"

"Thanks for everything David. Good day to you, too. See you tomorrow!"

Mark picked up one of the two medical histories; the one of the thirty-seven year old guy with BlackBerry dependency syndrome and began to browse through it.

58

Alan Cox was the Commercial Director of a petrochemical group, he was not married, he did not drink, he did not smoke and he went to the gym regularly.

He had had two operations in his life: an appendectomy and surgery on his meniscus. The rest of his medical history revealed neither serious problems nor behavioral disorders of any kind.

Alan had been hospitalized in the psychiatric ward twice that year, first in Houston and then in Austin, but without any positive results.

The hospitalization, forced in both cases, was necessary due to a violent panic attack while driving in heavy traffic, followed by an aggressive reaction to the rescuers who were only trying to help him and to calm him down. In both episodes he had taken a knife out from his pocket and tried to stab people.

The patient had initially suffered from BlackBerry addiction; showing signs of this addiction and withdrawal when the device was turned off and when it was taken away from him.

Later, he began to manifest obsessive thoughts and uncontrollable impulses to be in visual and tactile contact with the device. When he was hospitalized for the second time, the doctors also diagnosed him with "BlackBerry phantom syndrome", that is he had auditory hallucinations and answered non-existent calls.

The clinical picture was further aggravated by psycho-cognitive hyperactivation, sleep imbalances (he suffered from insomnia at night and he fell asleep suddenly during the day as if he were narcoleptic), susceptibility and mood swings.

When he had arrived at the Southwestern County Medical Center, his daytime hypnagogic hallucinations were frequent and often involved the BlackBerry transforming into a monstrous animal with horns that perched between his mouth and nose, preventing him from breathing.

The drug therapy that he had received up to that moment had been directed mainly at treating his panic attacks and anxiety. It was also associated with psychotherapy, but it had not produced the desired effects.

Mark locked the medical records of the young internet addict in his drawer, put Alan’s medical history under his arm and headed for room 324.

"Can I come in?"

"Could you give me back my BlackBerry?" Alan Cox asked quickly.

"Not at this time," replied Mark calmly.

"So it’s not allowed."

"Hi Alan, my name is Mark Stearman and I’m the specialist that will be looking after you from now on."

"Good morning, Doctor. It’s so boring here: all I have is this television and no real contact with the outside world."

"I understand. If it's OK with you, we'll have a chat. We should probably take a different path if you want to get back to using the web and the phone. I need to get a clear understanding of the problem. We have to trust each other to be successful in solving your problem. Do you feel like working on that?"

"Certainly, at least I can stop being bored and just thinking all the time about missing the BlackBerry."

"Tell me how it all started. I have already read your story in the medical records, but could you give me a detailed explanation of your job and how you spend your leisure time?"

"I’ll begin with free time: I go to the gym three times a week, and in the evening I usually I go out to dinner, alone or with friends."

"Do you read?"

"Nope, I don’t have time."

"Do you have any hobbies?"

"I have no time, but sometimes I go to the cinema. I get up at 6:30 in the morning; if I'm not traveling, I take the car and drive about 62 miles to go to the office. I come home around 9:00 pm.

“I’m the Commercial Director of a petrochemical group and I deal mainly with countries that produce raw materials. I travel a lot and my counterparts generally are not private. I have a lifestyle that causes me a lot of stress but also a lot of satisfaction. I don’t want to change job. I love what I do."

Mark looked down at the file in front of him and then spoke:

"Your medical history doesn’t indicate that you’ve had anxiety attacks in the past."

"Absolutely not, you have to take into account that due to a car accident that I had a year ago, I had my spleen, liver, part of my stomach and heart removed. Isn’t that written in my medical records?"

"No, of course, we haven’t yet received all the information from the hospital that took care of you. How do you feel?"

"I feel good, even though I'm a little bit disorientated at times. I would have expected total annihilation instead, but luckily my working pace is always the same."

"Why do you say that?"

"What kind of question is that? Because I died in surgery!"

"Are you sure you died?!!"

"Absolutely! I'm dead, and now I'm in a present without several organs, but my daily routine hasn’t changed. How do you explain it? I had the first crisis immediately after the accident, the horrible, inescapable feeling that I was dying, I couldn’t find my BlackBerry to get help."

"Who rescued you?"

"I don’t remember. An ambulance arrived, but the paramedics kept telling me that it was a panic attack and that I wasn’t dying. They said that I had slightly rear-ended the car in front of me. They kept on talking, and then I reacted. They were wasting time and I was dying! Finally, they realized that I was dying with serious internal injuries, so they took me to the hospital and there they removed the organs and replaced them with new ones. But I died all the same, and here I am. You are dead, too, only it might be that you don’t want to let me know."

"Do you know that you are being treated for a BlackBerry addiction?"

"Certainly, otherwise, what else would we talk about?"

"What does that device mean to you?"

"That the situation is under control, nothing more. It’s just a work tool."

"How many hours a day do you work normally?"

"About twelve, or thirteen. It depends on the period."

"Do you sleep enough at night?"

"I’m satisfied with my routine. I don’t sleep more than three hours a night…I can’t sleep more, not even when I’m on vacation.

“I saw it again,” Alan is leaning forward pointing to Mark’s pocket. “It was in your pocket. Doctor. Do you happen to have a BlackBerry in your pocket?"

"What did you see, Alan?"

"The hairy monster who always tries to choke me..."

"Alan, there is no hairy monster. It’s just your imagination, dependency plays dirty tricks, but I’m convinced that we’ll find a solution and you’ll be back in possession of your life and your BlackBerry."

"Doctor, I am not at all convinced, but I hope I can go home soon. I don’t like it here, the food is terrible."

After this remarkable conversation, Mark continued his visit with a thorough physical examination and updated the medical record.

"Well, we'll see you tomorrow morning to start an alternative therapy. You’re going to make it. Now… have a nice day!"

Savannah left the room thinking deeply. He picked up the phone and dialed Marshall’s number. “This is Mark, have you got a minute, David? I just visited Alan Cox, and I’d like to talk to you."

"OK, I’m in my office."

David Marshall was working on the computer when Mark knocked on the door.

"Come in, Mark!"

"Hello David, when your team made their diagnosis, did they include all of the, let's say, nuances?"

"Yes, it’s complete and as you can see the medical record has been integrated with the information received from the other two hospitals. Why do you ask?"

"Cotard’s syndrome. It's a rarely diagnosed disease, frequently confused with mere hallucinations ascribed to addiction and completely missed. The syndrome has created a strong alteration in reality: Cox believes that he has lost some of his vital organs and that he’s actually dead."

"That's a very rare psychiatric syndrome, isn’t it? I have no experience with Cotard’s syndrome."

"It’s true, it is very rare, but I'm sure that he has both the addiction and Cotard's syndrome. It makes this case quite complicated: I have to think on it some more, so far the therapy has achieved no positive results other than to calm the patient. I’d like to try another drug therapy combined with hypnosis. Will you give me the green light?"

"Sure…send me the treatment that you intend to give him, in accordance with the procedure, and I will grant you the authorization. When you get the patient’s consent you can start the therapy."

"Ok, thank you. I'll visit Alan again tomorrow. Now I'm going to take care of the students. Bye, David."

When Mark crossed the reception on his way to the north wing of the hospital, the clerk called to him. "Doctor Stearman, good morning! We received a package for you. Here it is."

Finally, Mark had his smartphone back; he put the package in his pocket, intending to open it in the peace and quiet of his apartment.

Mark stayed with the interns throughout the afternoon, then went to his studio to get the therapeutic protocol for Alan Cox: he wanted to use hypnosis to reprogram the patient’s subconscious instead of benzodiazepine anxiolytics and antidepressants.

While he was in his studio, he unwrapped his new device; he couldn’t wait for the evening – the irony of that wasn’t lost on him. He checked out its various applications for almost two hours. After that he downloaded the photo of the agent who had tried to kill him in Aisha’s apartment, and then wrote to Pavel using the protected line.

"QRV Digitrevenant69, hello, thanks! The woman is the one that tried to kill me, see what you can find out about her. I’m certain she works for Colonel Reed. I'm fine, and yourself?"

Pavel was on line and immediately replied, "QSL, but I have not spoken to A for two days. She’s driving me crazy."

"W?"

"She got me excited as hell and then, out of the blue, she went home without letting me do anything."

"She shouldn’t play with your feelings, but you have to get over her. There are fascinating women who are after you and you don’t even see at them."

"What are you doing in Dallas?" wrote Pavel.

"My old job and I’m waiting for the delicate issue to grow cold, in the meantime I’m thinking of a medium-term strategy. I can’t move for now."

"I'll let you know about the photo, but what happened to her? Although you beat her black and blue, she still looks very beautiful. Is she alive?"

"The truth is I left her alive and, yes, she is really beautiful."

"Why didn’t you kill her…Are you getting soft?"

"Something familiar about her stopped me, I don’t know. Among other things, she could have killed me, but she didn’t. She is a tough nut and not that nice at all; in fact, she didn’t say anything and didn't give me any information. Anyway, thanks for everything. See you soon. And forget Anna…you’re wasting your time."

"Sure, I know, I know. Have a nice evening. As soon as I discover something I'll write you."

Mark realized that it was already past 8:00 pm. He left the Southwestern County Medical Center and headed home; at 10:00 pm, after having sent David the request for authorization on the protocol of Alan Cox, he started to watch a movie on television, but was fast asleep by the end of the first half.