Edge of Tomorrow (23 page)

“My head’s swimming with so many questions!”
exclaimed Syd.

“We’ll answer them all, in time. How would
you like a tour of the interior? Hey, Smitty, drop the steps, we’re
coming aboard. By the way, the distortion is much less on this
model, and the image is much sharper. We owe the Toy Master a beer
when we see him,” said Hatch.

The door came down and formed steps as the
helicopter slowly reappeared between its wheels and rotors. Syd
discovered that the interior was unlike any helicopter she had
encountered in the Israeli military. It was packed with electronic
gear, and computer-like consoles. Even the cockpit looked like it
was from a Martian space ship. Hatch gave Syd a brief tour and an
even briefer explanation of the equipment. They had a busy day
ahead, so more detail would have to be postponed to a more
convenient time.

Back outside, Hatch said, “I’m sorry to put
off answering all the questions you must have, Syd, but we have
much to do today. That is, if you are still in on this with
us.”

“Since I brought all of this down on your
heads in the first place, I have no choice. And seeing the Shadow
in operation should be worth the trip. How are you going to get it
to Iran?” sighed Syd.

“We won’t use this one. It is still in
operational test. We’ll use Shadow-3, which is currently at our
base in Turkey,” answered Hatch. “It has been battle-tested, and
will do the job quite well.”

“Turkey? You’re all over the world, aren’t
you?” said Syd.

“That we are. Now, like I said earlier, the
GS-V is being readied for flight in Miami. Sara, please call the
Turkey people and ask them to ready Shadow-3. I don’t want any
outstanding maintenance problems. Syd and I have to deal with the
police before we can leave the country. When Syd and I get back,
the three of us can pack our bags—enough for three or four days—and
then we can chopper over to Miami and be on our way to Israel. Have
Bruno transfer our two prisoners over there now,” said Hatch.

“Isn’t Smitty going with us—to fly the
spaceship?” asked Syd.

“No. He’s needed here to finish the flight
testing of Shadow-5. We have a fully-trained air crew in Turkey,”
replied Hatch. “Now, let’s get going, Syd. We’ll go to the
sheriff’s station in Marco and give our statements, and then we can
grab some lunch in Marco.”

Syd glanced at Sara and caught her eye. Sara
gave her a wink and a thumbs up.

“Not
The Blue
Grotto
, I hope! I don’t know if I’m ready for that
place again right now,” groaned Syd.

“I agree. We can go to
Lou’s Crab House
. Have you been
there?”

“Yes. I like that place a lot. Well, let’s
get this cop thing over with. I hope they don’t give us any
trouble!”

Lou’s Crab House, Marco, Florida

Thursday, August 2, 2001

12:30 P.M.

Hatch and Syd had the best table
available on the patio of
Lou’s Crab
House
on Marco Island. The patio looked out on the
blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The owner, Lou Grabano, had
greeted them personally and led them to the table he had reserved
for them when Hatch had called him from the Collier County
Sheriff’s Substation on Marco Island. Syd had a glass of white wine
in front of her, and Hatch had opted for a gin on the
rocks.

“Well, that went well, Syd. The cops have
closed the case based on the eye witness and the fact that the two
sets of prints on the knife belonged to the perps. It corroborates
our story,” sighed Hatch. “A clear case of self defense.”

“Yes, I’m glad that’s over. I wonder if they
would have closed the case so quickly without you being who you
are. Oh, well. I’m not complaining. Do you realize that we met
exactly twenty-four hours ago? It seems as if I’ve known you much
longer than that,” said Syd. “At least today you don’t have to ogle
me from afar.”

She laughed, more of a giggle.

“And I am ogling you shamelessly. I hope that
doesn’t make you uncomfortable, because I enjoy admiring your
obvious charms. And this time I can talk to you while ogling, which
I couldn’t do yesterday. You know, this is the first time we’ve
been alone together since we met. When I spotted you yesterday, I
was hoping I could figure out a way to get to meet you—ask you for
a date. I never dreamed it would happen the way it did, but at
least, here we are. Here’s to our one day anniversary!” said Hatch
with a smile, lifting his glass.

Syd felt a tingle scurry up her spine, and a
warm feeling permeated her body as she raised her glass and touched
it against his.

He really is interested in me! Don’t screw
this up, Syd! He can have any woman in the world if he wants, so
why me? Maybe he only wants a one-night stand. I really could be
talked into that if I thought there was no chance of something
better. But I’m tired of one-night stands. That’s all I’ve had for
three years, and not many of those. Also, I don’t want him to think
I’m easy, just in case this can go somewhere. But I’m afraid no
matter what I do, he’s got to view me as a friggin’ gold digger
after his money! I wonder how he deals with that problem. That
alone would make forming a relationship difficult for him.

“Does that mean this is a
date
? Not just a break in your busy
schedule?” laughed Syd. “I can’t tell you how much that pleases me.
It has been a very long time since I’ve been on a
date
. A few drinks with the guys,
but no dates.”

“That’s hard to believe. A beautiful,
interesting, and educated woman like you? I would think the men
would be lined up around the block,” countered Hatch, meaning
it.

“Thank you for those glowing words! Yes,
there were plenty of men lined up, but they were all after
something other than a date! Commandos don’t have much patience for
chatting over a glass of wine, or holding hands. They like to skip
the chase and go straight for the—you know what I mean,” she said,
a blush beginning to rise on her neck when she realized what she
had almost said.

Hatch remembered a similar lecture from Kat
those many years ago. He would have to be careful. He did not want
to get a scathing lecture like he got from Kat about all men being
lechers.

“Well, this is a
date
! I’m with a gorgeous woman, in a beautiful
setting, with a fantastic view. We’re chatting over drinks—I’ll
even hold your hand later, if you’ll let me,” he said with a
genuine smile.

“Thank you for all that, Hatch, although I
don’t feel gorgeous right now. I’ll bet you have charmed the pants
off many women more good-looking than I am. I’m flattered. I really
want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m just so upset about
the mess I’m in—and how I got you involved in it,” she sighed.
“Would you hold my hand right now?”

She reached her left hand across the table
and he took it in his right and squeezed it lightly. They sat like
that for a long moment.

She said I’ve charmed women
out of their pants! The same accusation I got from Kat! My God,
this is weird. Holding her hand feels so good, so right. I wonder
if she will let me hug her later. I want to feel her in my arms!
But I have to take this slowly or I’ll spook her. I have one of my
‘feelings’ about her. And, in a way, a sense of
déjà
vu.
I haven’t allowed myself to be real
close to any woman since Kat. Could something be brewing here? I
wonder if I’m finally ready. Or would I put her life at risk as I
did Kat’s? Is that what I’m doing by insisting she go to Israel and
Iran with me? Am I really being honest about this?

Syd finally broke the silence.

“I really need for you to understand,
Hatch, that I am not a bloodthirsty killer—not by nature, anyway.
It was … how can I make you understand? My parents were not just
murdered, they were blown to bits. I didn’t even have anything to
bury! I was consumed by a rage that I had never experienced before.
Not against the Arabic people, let me make that clear. I loved
them—they were my life’s work. But those
terrorists
! I wanted them all
dead
!”

Hatch interrupted her. “You don’t need to
relive that, Syd. I understand completely. I’ve felt that kind of
rage myself, once. Don’t put yourself through this.”

He squeezed her hand again and looked into
her dark eyes, and he saw the pain. He wanted to make it go
away.

“After a year and a half of venting my rage,”
she went on, “I decided to stop the relentless tracking of those
bastards. I was in Metsada by then, and even though they had spent
considerable time and money training me, I went to Uri and told him
I wanted to quit, and he understood. But then there were more bus
bombings, and car bombs … it never ended! I just hated those
terrorists so much! Killing all those innocent people, little
children … I couldn’t quit trying to punish them!”

“I know the feeling. I hate them as much as
you do, maybe more. All terrorists are misguided cowards! They kill
innocent people in the most horrible ways, instead of facing the
people whom they are really angry with,” interjected Hatch. “But I
learned that stepping on an ant here, an ant there, takes forever.
Cleaning out the nest and killing the queen is much more effective.
That’s what we’re going to do with the Wrath of Allah.”

“Why do you do this? You’re rich and
successful—you don’t need this. You’re not just doing this for me.
You’ve done it before. What drives you?” implored Syd.

“I hate evil people who cause misery to
innocent people, especially when they get away with it. Terrorists
of all kinds, hostage-takers, wife-beaters, bullies. International
politics and a screwed-up legal system let too many of them go
unpunished. That really irks me,” he answered.

“But you’ve spent millions of dollars
inventing and building stealth choppers, commando teams, and only
the Lord knows what else! Why do you
really
do this?” she asked.

“Billions, actually. I guess the real
reason I do this is very complex, and only a psychologist could
ferret it out. The simplest reason is:
Because I can!
” exclaimed Hatch. “Take the Wrath
of Allah, for instance. They know no nation dares to come after
them because of the Middle East Peace Accords, which got under way
after the Pope visited the Holy Land last year. But
I
can go after them, so I will. The
timing is dictated by the fact that they threaten
you
. I would have gotten to them
eventually, I’m sure. So, it is about
you
, in a way. Your life is in danger, and that
really upsets me. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t fix
that. I want you around for another date!”

“I like the sound of that! But I’m
ruining
this
date. I promise
to lighten up! Now, let me take a look at this menu,” said Syd, as
she released his hand.

• • •

Forty-five minutes later, they were having
coffee after the waiter had cleared their table. They had talked
nonstop through lunch, each enjoying the other immensely. As Syd
finished relating an amusing incident which had occurred when she
was teaching at Harvard, they both laughed heartily.

“I know that seems tame compared to your
exciting life, but that was my life,” added Syd.

“Were you ever married, Syd? If that’s not
too personal,” asked Hatch, wondering what her sex life had been
like up until now. He was not sure why he wanted to know, but he
did, badly.

“Oh, no! I’m just an old maid school
teacher,” she laughed. “I’ve had some relationships, but nothing
that ever had the potential for marriage. My last serious
relationship was with a Harvard professor. You know the stereotype
jokes about strait-laced college professors.”

“You had a relationship with a professor, and
you didn’t …?”

“…
have sex?” she finished for him. “Of
course I did, Hatch. I said I was an old maid, not a strait-laced
virgin locked in a chastity belt! It was just that this guy—an
English professor—was so reserved, even prudish. His family came
from old money. I think he expected that we would drift into a
comfortable, reserved marriage someday, though he never asked me to
marry him. We did the expected thing, like go to seminars, the
opera, high teas. I wanted more: something more exciting. That’s
the main reason I took the TAU opportunity, to get away from him,
before I became just like him. He was upset, said he wouldn’t wait
for me. I liked that, it made for a clean break. How about you?
Ever been married?”

She knew the answer to that question, but did
not want to reveal that Sara and Mrs. Chamberlain had discussed his
personal life with her. She wanted to hear about Kat, and any other
relationships he might have had, from his own lips.

“No. Close, but no cigar. That was a long
time ago,” he replied without elaboration.

“I thought we were getting personal here,
sharing things. ‘You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,’ so to
speak. You let me dump all of my guilt and pain on you, and you
absorbed it like a sponge. Now, let me be the sponge. Tell me why
you didn’t get married. I told you how I dumped Professor
‘Missionary Position.’ I sense you are still hurting. Come on, tell
Dr. Z. all about it.”

She took his hand in both of hers and
smiled
that smile
. He melted,
and felt very connected to her.

Maybe telling her about Kat, and my
hang-ups, will help me get rid of the lingering doubts I have about
relationships. After all, that is all the shrinks do: Make you talk
about things.