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McKnight’s Memory
by Paul Kyriazi
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5 – CARLA
“It’s looking good, Mr. McKnight. How’re the headaches?”
“Just mild ones, Doc,” McKnight answered, sitting in Dr. Tolliver’s office. “Not bad, I guess, considering.”
“Good. And how’s the memory?” Tolliver asked. “Anything?”
“No, nothing. Not a God-damned thing. I remember general facts, TV commercials, historical dates, stuff like that. But nothing about my life, nothing about myself.”
“I’m sure it’s only temporary. Give it a few more days, a week maximum. The memories will start, one by one. Slowly, and then increasing quickly….like popcorn.”
“Yeah,” McKnight breathed out a chuckle. “Popcorn….terrific.”
“Like I’ve explained to Mr. Bishop, you have psychogenic amnesia which means that except for your past, your mind is fully functional, so that it will be just a matter of re-introducing yourself to your life.”
“How would I do that?”
“It’s not as difficult as you might think. Friends, photos, work records, and other documents would fill in the blanks nicely.”
“It sounds good, doctor. “I hope so.”
“Mr. Bishop is signing you out now, so you can leave with him with none of the usual discharge hassles.”
“Good. And thank you.”
“Let’s see what happens in a few days and then I’ll check you over again.”
“Right.”
Bishop was there to meet McKnight as he stepped out of the elevator into the hospital lobby. “Here we go Jimbo,” Bishop said, as he guided McKnight to the front exit. “A few more steps and you’re outta here.”
“Yeah and none too soon for me. Enough of this hospital.”
“Front door’s right over here. I’ll walk you out and let you go on your own from there.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute. Let me go where? Haven’t you forgotten something? Not remembering who I am is only one of my problems. I don’t know where I live. I don’t know this city, or how to get around.”
“Not to worry. That’s all been taken care of.”
“Then what’s the plan? Do I get a couple of days of freedom and then get creamed by the director of the CIA, whoever he is?”
“Hey, don’t worry about that now. It’s not going to be as bad as you think. He’ll ask you a few questions, you give him a few answers, and that should take care of it….hopefully.”
“What if I don’t know the answers by then? What if he thinks my memory loss is a lie? Just something I’m using as an excuse to cover up my mistake in Columbia.”
“Look, you may have exceeded your authority slightly. But you didn’t break any laws, so he can’t take your pension away from you. Perhaps he could pressure you to retire, but you’ve been talking about retiring for a while, so what the hell, it’s no big deal. Take the pension and run. But your memory will probably be coming back in the next couple of days, like the Doc said, so don’t sweat it.”
“Until it does come back, I am sweating it.”
“Okay, here we go, back into the real world.”
Once outside Bishop pointed ahead and asked, “Well, how do you like her?”
“Who? What are you talking about?” McKnight said, looking around.
“Look over there.”
“The limousine?”
“Yeah. It’s all yours for the rest of the day.”
“It’s nice, but to tell you the truth, for the last few days I was hoping for something….a little more feminine.”
“Ah, so you do remember something. You forgot everything but your woman. Is that it?
“I remember the photo in my wallet, and that’s all. And since she hasn’t visited me here or even phoned, I was hoping she’d meet me here.”
“Well, just keep your eyes on the limo, pal.”
McKnight saw the limo driver open the passenger door. A female figure stepped out. She had black hair framing a flawless Asian face that was sensual beyond any description McKnight could think of. Seeing McKnight, she smiled and waved. Bishop eyed McKnight, watching him take in a large breath of air.
“So how about it? Remember her?”
“She’s beautiful.”
“And she’s all yours. You take it from here, buddy. I’ll call you later.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Bishop gave Carla a quick wave and then turned and went back into the hospital.
McKnight wasn’t sure of what to do, but didn’t have to do anything as Carla ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you, Jim,” she said hugging him tightly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Pretty good. How are you doing?”
“I’m just happy to see you, that’s all. But this hospital thing had me worried,” she said releasing her grip on him and standing back.
“What did they tell you?”
“Nothing, as usual,” she shrugged. “When you didn’t return on Friday, like you said, I called your office. They said that you would be spending a couple of days in the hospital for a checkup. That’s all. I called the hospital, but you weren’t registered, so I just waited. Then Bishop called today and said a limousine would pick me up and take me to you.”
McKnight tried hard not to stare at this stranger that was more beautiful than the photo in his wallet. “I wondered why you didn’t call.”
“I wondered the same thing about you. Come on,” she said taking his hand. “Let’s get you back home.”
They began walking towards the limo. “So you don’t know anything about what happened?” he asked her.
“Just that you were going out of town for a couple of days, like you told me. What did happen?”
The limo driver had the door open for them. “Well….get in. I’ll tell you what I know……which isn’t much.”
Carla slid into the limo seat making room for McKnight. “What’s this on the side of your head?” she said, gesturing to his bandage.
“A slight wound, or so they tell me. I picked it up in Columbia.”
“Is it okay to talk about where you’ve been? You never used to talk about your job.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t told not to. But since it’s the only thing in my life right now that I do remember, I’ll talk about it with you. Maybe you can fill me in on some things.”
The limo driver got behind the wheel. “Where to, sir?”
“Ah….oh I don’t know,” McKnight said.
“Take us back home,” Carla said with authority. “And give us some privacy please.”
“Yes ma’am,” the driver said hitting the button to roll up the window that separated him from the passenger area.
As the car pulled out into traffic Carla turned in her seat to face McKnight. “Is there a problem, Jim?” she asked with great concern in her voice. “You seem unsure of yourself and your voice is a little hoarse. But there’s something else. Are you in trouble?”
“I am unsure of myself,” he answered quietly. “And my voice probably sounds hoarse because of all the dust I ate overseas. Is that window sound proof?”
“Yeah, pretty much. You can talk.”
“Well, there does seem to be a slight problem. But it’s difficult…..difficult…,” he said as his voice trailed off.
“You don’t have to talk about it now, whenever you’re ready.”
“It’s not that,” he said, turning more to face her. “I mean it’s difficult to explain, because I don’t understand it myself. But I’ll make it short and simple, which is what my memory is now, short and simple.”
“Go on. You know you can trust me.”
“Do I?”
“What do you mean, Jim?”
“Do I know you, is the question, because here it is.” He took a breath, thought a second and then said, “I was on a job out of the country, in Columbia in fact. I got grazed in the head by a bullet, which caused this wound, but that’s healing, so no problem. But the thing is this; right now I have a personal life history of one day in Columbia and two nights in the hospital.”
“What do you mean?” she asked shaking her head slightly.
“Meaning, I lost my memory. I can’t remember my past, I can’t remember my job. I can’t remember anything.”
“What about me? You do remember me don’t you?”
“I want to remember you, believe me. I’m trying hard right this instant to remember you. But I can’t. That’s the worst of it. I don’t remember you.”
“That explains the worried expression on your face. I’ve never seen that expression. What did the doctors tell you?”
“Not much, except I should be fine in a few days. You know, once I get around familiar things.”
“Good. Let’s believe that the doctors know what they’re talking about. We’ll be home soon. We’ll relax and I’ll nurse you back to health.”
“That sounds good,” he said in a more positive tone. “Just remember that I don’t remember you at all, so I’m a little….uncomfortable.”
“That’s nice actually,” Carla smiled sweetly. “Kind of like a first date.”
“That’s a good way to put it. What was our first date, by the way?”
“Your condominium for three days.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I wasn’t….and neither were you.”
“Well here it is,” Carla said, as she and McKnight entered his condo. “Welcome back.”
“I live here?” McKnight asked looking around at the plush furnishings.
“Sure. Does it look familiar?”
“No, I’m sorry to say.” McKnight walked through the living room to the large window. “But it looks expensive.”
“You can afford it.”
“Am I renting or do I own it.”
“You said you own it, so I guess you do.”
“That’s sounds just fine, because I like it, and what a view. That’s the Washington Monument over there.”
“Well at least you remember something.”
“Everyone knows the monuments.” McKnight turned and looked at Carla. He tried to remember her. She seemed familiar, but no recognition came. Her beauty held his gaze fixed.
“You’re staring at me,” she said, but not really minding.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I? I didn’t realize it.”
“Yes, you were, but I rather liked it,” she smiled. “You haven’t looked at me like that for a long time.”
“What’s a long time?”
“A month or so,” she said approaching him.
“Oh, that is long,” he said, unknowingly taking a step back.
“You make love to me all the time, but it’s been that long since you really looked at me.”
“Make love….Yeah….Well, this knowing you, but yet not knowing you, has got me feeling really weird.” He stepped over to the black leather sofa and sat down. “I was hoping that you and this place would bring it all back to me, but I think it’s going to take more than that. Some kind of image my mind remembers.”
“You know, I just had a thought,” she said pointing to him. “I think I can give you that image….images.”
“Oh…really?”
“Yes, just a minute,” she said, turning and heading over to a closet. “Let me get something.”
“What is it? Do you want me to put on some of my other clothes?”
“No, better than that.” Carla said, opening the door of the closet and bending down. “Here, I’ve got it. It’s all right here inside this envelope.”
“What is?”
Carla sat down on the sofa next to McKnight. “Your past history. Well actually, our history.”
“Say, speaking of history, how long have we been together?”
“About three months,” she said opening the large envelope. “Okay, let’s take a look. We took these photos on our trip to Florida two months ago.”
McKnight took some of the photos from her. “Hmm. Who took all of these?”
“We did. And some strangers took some of us together. So how about it? Do you remember Florida?”
“Only that it was discovered by Ponce de Leon when he was searching for the fountain of youth. A quest I wouldn’t mind going on, by the way.”
“Why’s that?” Carla chuckled.
“I woke up a few days ago for what felt like the first time and I was already fifty-six years old.”
“You never minded your age before,” she said sincerely.
“That’s probably because I had a past behind me. Now I have no history except the past two days. It doesn’t seem fair, you know?”
“Well, I’m about fifteen years behind you, and I don’t like my age any more than you.”
“Well you shouldn’t mind it…,” McKnight said looking into her dark eyes. “.…being that you look about thirty to me.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, then changed her tone back to the matter at hand. “So how about these photos? Do anything for you?”
“Only that I look a little different than what I see in the mirror.”
“Of course. You were relaxed down there. You’re all tensed up now and need a shave.”
“Oh…..well….ah….” He took his eyes off of her and looked down at the photos in his hand. “You know it gives me a weird feeling to see photos of myself at places I’ve been, but with no memory whatsoever connected to them.”
“I think you should just relax and forget all that for now.” She took the photos from him, put them back in the envelope and stood up. “Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m fine. Are you?”
“No. But I didn’t get much sleep, waiting for you. How about a shave, a bath and a nap?”
“Ah….yeah. I hardly slept at all in the hospital,” he said feeling his two day beard. “That might be a good idea.”
“Good. You clean up, I’ll make a couple of phone calls and join you soon, huh?”
“Okay.”
In the bedroom, after a shave and shower, McKnight’s naked body was greeted by cool white satin sheets, a far cry from the rough textured cotton sheets that the hospital had to offer. That was his last thought when sleep overtook him.
The sound and motion of the bed covers woke him. A hint of perfume as well as the sound of skin sliding on satin filled the air.
“Still sleepy?” Carla whispered, sliding her body behind him.
McKnight rolled to his back to face her. “No. I’m awake.”
“Good. I was hoping you were.” Carla put her arm over his chest. “It’s been over a week and I’ve missed you.”
“If I could remember you, I’m sure that I would have missed you, too.”
“Well, let’s not worry about that now.” Carla positioned herself to face him. “Let’s just believe that after a few days you’ll be all right. We’re here….and that’s all that matters.”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Kiss me now, remember me later.”
McKnight became lost in the satin sheets and Carla’s satin skin. The hypnotic sound of Carla’s breathing, moaning, and whispered endearments filled his ears.
Was it after thirty minutes, or an hour, or two hours later when Carla cried out and went limp in his arms? He couldn’t tell. She had moved him into a timeless state for a dreamlike period of time. And then, as he held her he quickly followed her to sleep.
With his conscious mind at bay, McKnight’s subconscious brought him another dream. He found himself sitting at a kitchen table in a home he didn’t recognize. A woman put down a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. It wasn’t Carla. And it wasn’t anyone he recognized. She looked to be about fifty and someone who had been at least cute looking in the past, but had obviously stopped caring about what she looked like years ago.
He was in the middle of a conversation with her, one that McKnight didn’t know how to respond to. But dreams have a way of pushing you into the situation, and this dream was no exception.
“While you’re eating,” the woman said standing over him with the frying pan, “maybe you can explain why we’re not going on vacation this year, as if it matters anymore.”
“It’s just that I have other plans,” McKnight heard the words coming out of his mouth. “Plans that are important to my job.”
“Job?” she repeated with disgust. “I don’t call that your job. I call that your problem.”
McKnight stared at the eggs on his plate. “Do we have to go through this same old song and dance every time I sit down to eat?”
“Song and dance is about all we have left,” she said setting the frying pan back on the stove. “I mean, if we don’t even take vacations anymore, then what’s the use? This isn’t living. This is you working and me as a house keeper.”
“I know. But just see me through this time, and things will change, I promise. This is an important time for me.”
“And what about for me?” she asked moving to the front of the table to look McKnight in the eye. “When’s my important time? When do I get something out of life? I’m just on a merry-go-round of dishes, cleaning, shopping, cooking, and more cleaning. I’d be doing better by working at a hotel or restaurant. I mean, I might as well get paid for this”.
As she talked McKnight turned and looked at the kitchen door, just as the three bandits from Columbia walked in, their wounds still bleeding.
Morales was the first to speak. “Hey Señor. Do you want us to help her shut the hell up? I mean, you must be sick of this shit, no?”
“Yeah,” Jose agreed. “Let’s pull out our cannons and shoot the bitch.”
Edwardo was all for it. ”Si, como no?”
“What the hell?” McKnight said, still seated. “Hey, aren’t you guys dead?”
“Si, jefe,” Morales answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “Your friend in the helicopter killed us pretty good. But that was not fair, a rifle from out of the sky. Hijo, I thought God was killing us.”
“Well, you had it coming don’t you think?” McKnight said. “So why don’t you hombres turn around and get the hell out of here.”
The woman looked around the room in bewilderment. “Who are you talking to?”
“You don’t see these guys?’
“You’re the one that’s seeing things,” she said. “Now what’s going on with you? Are you going crazy, because that’s all that’s left for you.? Go crazy and give up on the real world.”
“Hey, jefe,” Morales groaned. “Tell her to shut the hell up or we will.”
“Stay out of it,” McKnight ordered.
“What? Stay out of what?” she asked in frustration. “You know you’re not making any sense.”
“Hijo, enough of this shit,” Morales yelled. “I can’t stand it. I don’t know how you can.”
The three bandits pulled out their weapons, aimed them at the woman and fired. The woman took all three bullets simultaneously sending her flying across the kitchen, up onto the sink, where she crashed into a pile of dishes and then bounced to the floor dead.
“Santa Lucia,” Morales laughed. “She really puts on a show.” The other two bandits joined in on the joke.
“Sorry,” Morales said, turning to the still seated McKnight. “But now it’s your turn, jefe.”
“Wait a minute,” McKnight said, standing up. “You guys aren’t real. You’re dead. This is a dream, isn’t it?”
“For us it is,” Morales said, woefully. “For you, it’s a nightmare.”
The bandits turned their weapons on McKnight. They fired.
“Oh…Jesus…” McKnight managed.
The feel of satin, the smell of perfume and the sound of Carla breathing next to his face told him that he had awakened, and none too soon at that.
He now had no intention of going back to sleep until he put some distance between him and that nightmare. The clock on the night stand read 2:17.
“Coffee, that’s the ticket,” McKnight whispered to himself. He felt his way to the bedroom door, not bothering to search for his clothes, and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. There was just enough ambient light coming through the window for him to see.
Not wanting to sting his eyes with a blast of strong light, he decided to brew his coffee in the relaxing atmosphere of the semi-darkness. But before beginning the task his nude body felt a cool breeze suddenly hit him as if a door or window had just been opened. Perhaps Carla had gotten up. He looked into the living room and saw the curtain covering the sliding glass door that led to the terrace, blowing, pushed by a breeze coming from the outside.
He had just passed through the living room on the way to the kitchen and nothing had been moving, not the curtain, not anything. And he hadn’t felt any kind of breeze at all.
Then he saw it, the shiny black double barrel of a shotgun protruding under the curtain. The gun barrel began to slowly lift the curtain, as someone began to enter.
McKnight’s mind started racing. Am I dreaming? The answer came back, no. Is there any chance that this is a mistake and not a dangerous intruder? The answer came back; Shotgun? Balcony? Two a.m.? No, not a mistake, a real intruder, a home invasion. He knew for sure that this was a life or death situation. And not just his life, like it had been on that dirt road in Columbia, it was also Carla’s life as well.
McKnight knew he had to kill or be killed. The intruder had a shotgun, no chance to subdue him. His only chance to survive was to kill him quickly, before the shotgun could come into play. His best defense would be surprise, but that opportunity would be gone in seconds.
Adrenaline pumped through his heart. I can do it he convinced himself. I’m James McKnight. Time to put my CIA training to work, even though I can’t remember it. But it has to come back to me in this situation.
He grabbed the frying pan from the stove and a carving knife from its holder on the drain. He quickly moved into the living room stalking his prey like a naked Neanderthal, teflon coated club in hand, ready to protect his mate’s cave.
Just as the enemy stuck his head under the curtain, McKnight swung his arm with all of his strength in an upward back-handed motion, catching the large man in the face with the edge of the frying pan, shattering his nose. The man dropped the shotgun as if it were on fire.
McKnight followed through with the carving knife that struck dead center into the man’s solar plexus. The man fell out onto the terrace, bumping into another man. McKnight heard the second man groan as the first man hit him. McKnight dropped the frying pan and scooped up the dropped double barrel shotgun. He inserted two fingers into the trigger guard as he held the gun at hip level and aimed at the shadow behind the blowing curtain. He pulled both triggers at once. The second man went flying back onto the balcony where he stopped, wedged between two struts of the terrace guard railing. The white curtain stuck to the man’s body and started turning red.
McKnight turned the spent shotgun around and gripped it with both hands like a club. He crept closer to the balcony making sure the second man was spent as well.
Carla had woken up when she heard the first sounds of the altercation. Now in the silence, she slowly moved down the hall too terrified to think about clothing. She reached the living room and turned on the light. What she saw made her stomach sick. But then a warm feeling started building just below there, and moved down to her thighs. She basked in the raw power of seeing her naked lover spayed with blood and standing victoriously over his slaughtered enemies, club in hand.
McKnight turned to look at Carla and sensed what was happening to her. He let the primal energy well up in him.
These are the times, times of terror, and all out victory, that brings the flood of memory flowing back into amnesia victims minds. McKnight could feel that this might be the moment for him. As he waited for the memory of his life to come back to him, he took a deep breath and looked at his vanquished would-be assassins. He then turned his gaze back over to his naked mate that he had so valiantly protected. And now for the first time since he had awakened in Columbia, he felt alive, really alive. But his past was still a blank. And his mate’s face that was now perspiring with violent eroticism was still a mystery.
“A shotgun with a backup man,” Bishop said, looking down at the bodies. He and Lyedecker had arrived forty-five minutes after McKnight called him. “A professional hit.”
“A professional attempt you mean,” Lyedecker corrected him. He turned to McKnight and Carla who were now dressed in street clothes. “Looks like you turned your apartment into your own personal slaughterhouse, McKnight.”
“Well, Agent Lyedecker, like you told me on the jet, I just did what was necessary.”
“You sure the hell did,” Bishop said, as the broken glass crunched beneath his shoes. “What did you do to that one? We’re going to have to pry him out of the railing with a crowbar.”
McKnight shrugged his shoulders. “Shotgun blast, I guess.”
“You guess?” Lyedecker smirked. “You’re the one that did all this.”
“What the hell did you expect him to do?” Carla asked, annoyed. “They’re the ones that broke in here.”
Bishop took a closer look at the man on the balcony. “This other one’s got a broken nose.”
“I hit him with that frying pan before I stabbed him,” McKnight said, matter-of-factly.
Bishop turned to face McKnight. “Stabbed him? Frying pan? Where’s your field piece?”
“If you’re talking about my pistol, I guess it’s still back in Columbia lying on the road.”
Bishop walked over to McKnight. “You’ve got a backup piece, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” McKnight said.
“He’s got a pistol in the dresser,” Carla offered.
“Oh, good. Could you get it for us, Carla?”
“Sure,” she said and headed to the bedroom.
“Better for him to have used a pistol than a frying pan,” he told her as he watched her walk away. “A bullet hurts a lot less.”
McKnight, finished with his nonchalant act, asked Bishop seriously, “Who the hell are these guys anyway, breaking in here like that? If I hadn’t woken up, I’d be dead now, and probably Carla, too.”
“Yeah,” Bishop said softly, “her too, maybe.” Bishop walked back over to the two dead men. Lyedecker was now checking their pockets looking for identification. “They look to be, and probably will turn out to be, freelance hit men, hired by the Franco Masenetti crime organization.” Bishop looked back at McKnight, “Does that name ring a bell?”
“No, no bell. Nothing rings bells for me, yet. Should I know that name?”
“I’ll say you should,” Bishop said. “They’ve been after you for the last six months or so. There’s a contract out on you because of all the heat you and the agency have been putting on them these last two years.” Bishop walked back over to McKnight. “When you couldn’t connect Masenetti himself with the several murders that he ordered, you crossed the line into D.E.A. territory and tried to get him for drug trafficking. That was part of the reason you were in Columbia. And to make matters worse, you were able to get Masenetti’s son convicted of selling drugs. He’s in prison now, so I guess Masenetti figures it’s payback time.”
Carla returned from the bedroom with a pistol in a shoulder holster. “Here it is. It’s already loaded, I think.”
Bishop took it from Carla. “Thanks,” and then handed it to McKnight. “Here you go, Jimbo. You’d better keep this with you.”
“Why? I seem to be doing all right with kitchen utensils,” McKnight bragged to further impress Carla.
Bishop gave him only a slight chuckle. “You’ll save the next guys a lot of pain if you just shoot them.”
“You think there’s going to be more ‘guys’?”
“Probably not, but you know the saying about better to have a gun and not need it, than to need a gun and not have it.”
“I don’t know the saying, but I’ve found out it’s true.”
“Okay,” Bishop said sharply to make Lyedecker snap to attention, “the next order of business is to get you two out of here and into a hotel for safety.”
McKnight nodded in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Lyedecker,” Bishop said, “Would you drive the two of them to some out-of-the-way hotel?”
“I guess I can handle that.”
“Well….,” McKnight said, “I think I’d like to do that myself. Just to be sure, no one knows where we are. And I mean nobody.”
“You can trust me, McKnight,” Lyedecker said. “We’re on the same team, or haven’t you noticed?”
“I know that, Agent Lyedecker, but I’d feel better doing it alone, just me and Carla.”
“Which way do you want it, Bishop?” Lyedecker asked his boss.
“Yeah…okay….sure, Jimbo. You and Carla can take off by yourself. And get a room without a balcony.”
“I’m way ahead of you.”
“Okay, good enough. But call me after you check in. And don’t use a credit card, use cash, and another name.”
“Don’t worry. I’m starting to get the hang of this.”
“I bet you are, Jimbo. I just bet you are.”
McKnight and Carla checked into a Sheraton Hotel. Carla slept, but McKnight couldn’t. He had phoned Bishop when they checked in. Bishop had assured him that he would start solving problems, too many for Bishop to explain to him at that time. But he promised to call back in the morning for a status report.
At eight A.M. the phone rang. McKnight grabbed the phone quickly, sat up and move to the edge of the bed. “Hello, George Custer here.”
“Hey, Jimbo,” came Bishop’s voice. “You figure on making a last stand at the Little Big Sheraton?”
“You know your history all right,” McKnight said.
“How are the two of you managing?”
“Television, room service, and sleep, you’ve got me leading a first class life.”
“Look Jim, we’ve identified those two hitters that paid you a visit last night. They were definitely from the Masenetti organization.”
“Do you think they’ll send more?”
“Well, maybe. But you’ll be safe where you are now.”
“I can’t stay in this hotel room prison all my life, can I?”
“You won’t have to,” Bishop assured him. “We’re working on something now.”
“And that would be?”
“We’re talking a possible deal with Masenetti, maybe negotiating a truce.”
“How are you planning to manage that?”
“Well, it won’t be easy. But we can offer him some money, immunity for past crimes, something like that. And also, he’ll do anything to get his son released from prison.”
“The CIA would do that for me?”
“Since you are CIA, it’s possible. We’d have to call in a few favors, but you’ve got friends upstairs, Jim.”
“Even after I bungled that mission in Columbia?”
“Hey, don’t worry about that. I think the director will go easy on you. Just answer his questions truthfully and you’ll do all right.”
“And what if I don’t remember the answers?”
“Oh yeah,” Bishop said, his voice going into a whisper. “How’s that going?”
“I still can’t remember a blessed thing, and I don’t think I ever will. I can’t even remember Carla.”
“And how is it going with her?”
“Ah….she’s sticking with me. And I’m trying to adjust to her as a stranger.”
“Well, just enjoy the adjustment and hang in there a while longer,” Bishop encouraged. “We’ll talk as soon as we can make some progress.”
“Right,” McKnight said frustrated, but added, “Thanks.”
“Take care,” Bishop said and then hung up.
McKnight hung up the phone and turned back to the bed where he saw that Carla had awakened and had been listening. “What did he have to say?” she asked.
“He’s working on some sort of plan to get Masenetti to call off his dogs.”
“Good,” she said and leaned back onto the pillow. “Maybe you can get him to replace the balcony door before we return.”
“Good idea.”
“You didn’t get enough sleep, Jim. Neither did I, for that matter. Come back to bed.”
“Yeah, maybe I can sleep.” McKnight moved back into the bed.
“How are you feeling?” Carla asked moving the covers back over him.
“The same.”
“Still can’t remember anything?”
“Regular stuff, but no personal stuff.”
“How about me?” she said moving closer to him.
“Some kind of distant memory, but all in all you’re still a stranger.”
She put her arm around him. “And…..Are you enjoying sleeping with a stranger?”
“It’s heaven. Makes all of this other craziness, almost worthwhile.”
“Almost worth worthwhile?” she whispered sweetly.
“I didn’t mean that you aren’t worth this. You are.”
“Move closer.”
McKnight did.
“Now try to make it all worthwhile.”
McKnight and Carla slept until noon. When they awoke they ordered room service. Soon after eating, McKnight started pacing the floor like the hunted animal he was.
“I think the hotel is going to charge us for the rut you’re wearing in the carpet.” Carla mused.
McKnight stopped and faced her. “What? Oh….sorry.”
Just then the phone rang. “Good news, I hope,” Carla said.
McKnight moved to the phone. “Yes, maybe it is.” He picked it up. “General Custer.”
“Hey, Jimbo,” came Bishop’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Everything’s fine,” McKnight said. “I got some sleep. What’s up?”
“Look, we contacted Masenetti. He’s been living in a suite at Caesars Palace in Atlantic City for the last few weeks. It’s his alibi while this contract is out on you. But anyway, after talking with him, he’s called a temporary cease fire, as it were, until we can negotiate a truce.”
“Sounds good.”
“Yes, it looks promising. Just hold on for another couple of days and I think we can bring you home.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” McKnight said. “I’m becoming a little stir crazy.”
“Cabin fever has got you only after just one night?”
“Sure has.”
“Even with your playmate there?”
“Yes, even so.”
After a long pause, Bishop said, “You know, there’s a large shopping mall just a few blocks from where you are. I guess it would be all right if you walked around there for a while, go shopping, grab an Orange Julius, you know. It’s called the Eastmont Mall.”
“That would be great. Are you sure it’s safe.”
“Sure, no problem, ”Bishop said. “Nobody knows you’re there anyway, and like I said there’s a cease fire. And besides, we’re going to straighten out everything with Masenetti for sure.”
“Are you going to release his son from prison?”
“I don’t think it will have to come to that, but it’ll be something like a reduced sentence and special treatment. You know, make his cell look like the Holiday Inn, or something. That should satisfy Masenetti. His son would be home in a couple of years.”
“Sounds good.” McKnight looked at Carla as he told Bishop, “We might just go out and celebrate, Orange Julius and all.”
“Good. Have a good time,” Bishop said. “Talk to you soon.”
“Right.” McKnight hung up the phone and looked at Carla who had been listening intently. ”Well, things are moving forward.”
“It sounded like good news,” pouring herself another cup of coffee.
“Yes, Masentti’s called off the contract while they negotiate an early release for his son. We can return home in a day or two.”
“And what about the balcony door?” she asked out of the blue.
McKnight chuckled. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” she said with a smile, but a serious tone. “ When we get home, I don’t want to be stepping over broken glass, blood, and chalk marks.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it in the next phone call,” McKnight assured her with a grin. “So what do you say? Shall we walk around the mall? Go shopping for some celebration gift for you?”
“Better get a celebration gift for Bishop, Carla said half-seriously. “I didn’t do anything but keep you company.”
McKnight made sure his tone was serious. “The best company I ever had.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“So let’s hit the mall, shall we?”
Carla hesitated, and then touched the side of her forehead with her fingertips. “I think I’d like to stay here. I’ve acquired a slight headache, watching you pacing for the last hour.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault really,” she said giving a half-smile. “Anyway, I just want to take a long bubble bath and let it disappear.”
“Do you want me to bring you something for it? Aspirin or Tylenol?”
“No. I’m not one for medicine. A bath should do the trick. It usually does.”
“Okay, we’ll just relax here.”
“No….it’s okay,” she said slowly. “You take a walk. Stretch your legs….go window shopping….maybe find a good book. I’ll expect you back in a couple of hours.”
“Well, if you think that’s okay, maybe just an hour.”
“Sure, relax….unwind. I’ll be fine when you get back.”
“Uh” McKnight glanced over at the pistol and shoulder holster on the lamp table. “I suppose I should take the pistol and shoulder holster.”
Carla shook her head as she thought about it and then said, “You think you should? I mean if Bishop said it was safe. Maybe guns and amnesia doesn’t mix.”
“Well….have a gun and not need it is best, you know…..so….”
“….Okay. Maybe it’s a good idea.”
“Sure,” McKnight said grabbing the shoulder holster and pistol. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Just make some noise when you come in, so you don’t startle me in the bathtub.”
“What if I intend to startle you in the tub?” he said putting on the shoulder holster.
“That’ll be just fine. Just see that you make some noise first before you come anywhere near the bathtub,” she smiled.
McKnight chuckled as he headed to the door. “Right you are. Can I pick anything up for you?”
“Sure. You can bring me back a surprise.”
McKnight stopped and turned back to her. “What sort of surprise?”
“If I knew, then it wouldn’t be a surprise would it? Beside little girls like it when their fathers return and the anticipation of what they might bring them.”
“Oh? Am I a father figure for you?”
“Maybe, in part. Anyway, I do feel protected with you.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I like protecting you.” He turned and opened the door. “Well…..see you soon.”
Continued….
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