Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 (17 page)

And to add insult to injury, September 11
was his birthday.

Members of the intelligence community had
assured him that it wouldn’t have made a difference if he had
killed the terrorist leader that day. One of bin Laden’s
lieutenants would have taken over the organization, and the attack
would have happened anyway. In fact, it was later proven that the
mastermind of the attack was not bin Laden at all, but a man named
Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. Still, all of the reassurance had come
after the fact. There was no way Rob or anyone else could be sure
that events wouldn't have unfolded differently had he been given
the order to carry out the mission all those years ago. If the U.
S. military had ordered the kill that day, and thereby sent the
message to all terrorists everywhere that they were at risk, that
there was nowhere for them to hide—would that have changed the
playing field?

Rob had since learned that no matter how
much he wanted to stay in control of any situation, life was in
God's hands and his alone. He even came to trust that he didn't
have to understand. But the memories couldn't be put aside.

Bill was standing about fifteen yards behind
Rob. As he watched the superior officer, he wondered if the
commander had known the person whose monument he was standing
before.

The monuments themselves were benches formed
to resemble the graceful swoop of a gull's wing, arranged in rows
according to the birthdate of the person it represented. There
was one for each of the 184 people who perished on that day. Rob
was standing in the row dedicated to the victims who were born in
the year 1957.

The sound of a chirping robin perched on a
nearby branch snatched Rob away from his thoughts. The red-breasted
bird was happily singing, completely unaware of the significance of
its surroundings. Rob considered that to be a good thing. Even
after such an evil act, life continued in all of God's many
wondrous creations.

Ceremoniously, he snapped to attention and
raised his hand slowly to the visor of his cover in salute to all
of those who had been honored with the sculptures situated all
around him. After a moment, just as ceremoniously, he lowered his
hand to rest against his thigh. He then looked down and read the
name of the man whose memory the bench nearest him had been
dedicated to.

Sergeant First Class Jose Orlando
Calderon-Olmedo.

He didn't know the man. He knew none of
those memorialized here. But he felt a kindred spirit with each of
them, and a deep sense of indebtedness to both them and their
families for the sacrifices they had made. He looked to his left
and slightly behind. The benches had been positioned offset to one
another. He read the name Sandra L. White. To his right, Patricia
E. (Patty) Mickley. He considered reading the name on each bench to
pay his respects to each person whose memory was honored here. But
the sound of the ensign’s voice brought him back to the reality of
his purpose for being in D.C.

“Excuse me for interrupting, sir.” Bill had
moved up silently behind the commander. He spoke softly as he
continued. “The captain is expecting you at fourteen thirty hours
and it's nearly a quarter past.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” Rob replied.

He took one last long look around. “Rest
easy, my brothers and sisters.”

With that, he turned and looked at the young
man. “Lead on, McDuff.”

Bill did not get the joke. “Begging your
pardon, but it's Murphy, sir.”

“My apologies, Ensign Murphy.” Rob rolled
his eyes at the man's back as he followed him toward the
building.

The ensign escorted the commander to the
metro level of the Pentagon, which housed the food court. 
They arrived at Harry's Tap Room at precisely fourteen-thirty
hours. The captain dismissed Bill with instructions to retrieve the
commander in an hour to take him back to the airport so that he
could catch his seventeen-thirty flight back home.

Rob shook the captain's hand vigorously. He
had no idea what this meeting was about, but it was good to see his
old friend. “Good afternoon, sir. It's great to see you.”

“You, too,” Benny said, smiling widely.
“Let's drop the formality just for lunch, shall we?” he added.

Rob was pleased to hear that their
relationship hadn't changed from its first-name basis. “If you're
game, I'm game.”

He had time enough to notice that Benny had
one-third of a glass of what looked like iced tea in front of him
before a young woman stood at the table dressed in a pair of black
slacks and a blue oxford shirt with her first name embroidered
across the pocket. “Welcome to Harry's Tap Room. My name is Tiffany
and I'll be your server this afternoon. Can I get your drink order,
sir?”

Rob estimated that she was in her early
twenties and about five foot eight. She had shoulder-length blonde
hair. Her blue eyes sparkled as she patiently smiled at him. Rob
thought of Karina Yevstafyava, the Russian exchange student that he
and Carol had hosted and become friends with so many years ago. She
had been there with them on that Tuesday, September 11, 2001. The
three of them had spent the evening watching the events unfold on
television. Brushing those thoughts aside, he made himself
focus on the more pleasant memories of their time together as a
family. This served to dull whatever unpleasant memories he was
harboring after his visit to the memorial. “I'd like water with
lemon, please.”

Tiffany wrote on her black pad. “Can I
interest you gentlemen in an appetizer? The Point Judith calamari
is very good.”

Benny looked at Rob questioningly. “It's on
me.”

Rob picked up the menu that was waiting on
the table in front of him and opened it. He looked from it to the
captain and then answered, “I wouldn't care for any, thanks.”

“Okay,” Tiffany said, still smiling. “Do you
guys know what you want to order, or do you need a minute?”

Rob flipped a page in the menu, and then
looked up at Benny. “Do you know what you want?”

Benny nodded. “Yeah, I had a minute before
you sat down.”

Rob looked up at Tiffany and smiled. “I'll
have what he's having.”

“We'll have the roasted red pepper and crab
soup to start and the chipotle barbecue chicken breast.” He turned
back to the inside cover. “And go ahead and bring us the crispy
shrimp appetizer as well.”

Rob's eyes narrowed. “What about my
diet?”

Benny looked slyly at Rob. “Have you started
it yet?”

“Of course”—he tried to keep a straight
face, but couldn't help a smile—“not. But I was gonna start
today.”

“Then, you'll start tomorrow.” Benny gave
Rob a knowing smile.

“Alright,” Tiffany said. “More tea, sir?”
she asked Benny.

“Please.”

“Doesn't she look like Karina?” Rob asked,
watching the young woman walk away.

Benny glanced her way as she ducked into the
waitress station. “I don't remember. I only met her once at your
Christmas party.” Looking back, he noticed Rob's unbroken stare.
“Watch it, pal. Carol would get jealous if she were here.”

Rob laughed. “She'd be lookin' too. Karina's
like a daughter to us.”

Benny continued to regard Rob with some
amusement.

“
Both
of us,” Rob reiterated.

It took about ten minutes for their
appetizer to arrive, and in another five the soup was delivered.
The entrees quickly followed. They spent the next thirty minutes
reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other while
they ate. Benny did the lion's share of the talking, since he was
in the more interesting field of weapons development. Rob was more
than a little interested in what the Navy was working on in terms
of hardware. But it soon became clear that they weren't anywhere
near the subject of why the captain had ordered Rob to Washington.
Unless it was to critique the lunch they had been served, which Rob
found to be excellent.

Benny paid the check and thanked Tiffany
with a thirty percent tip for her attentive service. He then
checked his watch while Rob sneaked a peak at his own. It was
nearly fifteen thirty hours. The ensign would be back to whisk Rob
off to the airport at any moment.

Rob took the initiative. “Well, thanks very
much for lunch, Cap.” Then he gave Benny a serious look. “But I'm
sure this isn’t what you brought me up here for.”

Benny returned his stare, but was silent for
a moment as if he was searching for the right words. Finally, he
spoke. “Yeah. I'm sorry about all this, Rob, but this wasn't
something I could do without looking you in the eye.”

“You have my full attention.”

“I need to ask you to participate in a …
program.”

“A program?”

Benny drained the last of his tea and shook
his head. “Now, you must understand that it is completely
voluntary. You have to be comfortable with saying
no
on this
one. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain stopped and forced himself to
smile just a bit. “I have recommended that you be the subject”—he
looked right and left, exaggerating the movement, then lowered his
voice even though the dining room was nearly empty—“of an
experiment involving genetic engineering.”

Rob's eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” The captain didn't want to
say the words again.

“I'm not sure that I did.” Rob studied the
captain. “Did you just say genetic—?”

“Engineering. Yes, I did.”

Rob's face grew into a wide smile as he
leaned back in his chair. “This is a joke, right? I'm being
punked.” He looked around the room, expecting to see someone jump
from behind a plant with a camera. “I’m being punked, aren’t
I?”

Benny stared stone-faced at Rob, saying
nothing.

Seeing the captain's expression, Rob began
to laugh uncomfortably. “What?”

Benny's expression hadn't changed. And he
still said nothing.

Rob leaned forward, his voice nearly a
whisper. “Captain, you aren't serious.” It wasn't a question. Rob
simply couldn't believe what he had heard the man say.

Benny was being as vague as possible. He
figured the less Rob knew about the project, the less likely he
would be to accept the assignment.

“That's all I can tell you for now, Rob.”
Benny’s expression softened a bit. “Now, I know it's not much to go
on and I also know that you might have some moral convictions about
this that you may need to talk over with your wife.”

“My wife?” Never in his twenty-three years
in the Navy had anyone ever advised Rob to discuss an assignment
with anyone, especially Carol.

Bill entered the restaurant and came into
Benny’s field of view. The captain picked up his napkin, gave his
mouth one last wipe, and stood up.

Rob immediately followed suit, unsure
whether the ranks were still dropped or not.

“You have until the end of the week to
decide,” Benny smiled warmly. “Just email me yes or no by Friday.”
With that, the captain extended his hand. “Have a safe flight home,
Rob,” he added as he strode past.

As he saw the captain approach, Bill opened
the door and stood aside as he strode out of the restaurant without
so much as a nod. Seeing the captain leave, Tiffany came to the
table to collect the remaining dishes. Rob hadn't moved. He didn't
turn to watch Benny leave, and he hadn't seen Bill come in and
silently walk up behind him. He looked at the young woman, still
confused. “What just happened?”

Tiffany stood there silently.

From behind him, Bill said matter-of-factly,
“He does that to me all the time.”

* * * * *

ROB THOUGHT ABOUT
his bizarre
experience with the captain for the entire hour-long trip back to
the airport. While waiting for his flight, he nearly missed his
boarding call as he contemplated the events. He played the
conversation in his head from beginning to end over and over during
the four-hour flight.

None of it made any sense.

Throughout the entire encounter, Benny had
seemed to be his old self. Unchanged from the last time the two had
seen each other. And then,
bam
! His entire demeanor changed
in the blink of an eye. He became so cryptic and unclear that Rob
had half-considered he could be showing early signs of
dementia.

Genetic engineering? And he seemed
serious.
Rob thought a moment.
No, he didn't seem serious …
he was serious.

He walked to the main entrance of Charleston
International Airport where Carol was waiting in the car at the
curb to pick him up. The only conclusion he had reached so far was
that he was not going to discuss the conversation, at least the
genetic engineering part, with his wife.

He climbed into the car and saw the welcome
sight of C. C. and Christian asleep in the back. The boy was still
clutching his Gameboy and C. C. held her favorite stuffed animal, a
penguin named Opus.

Rob slid into the passenger seat and leaned
over to give Carol a kiss.

“How was your flight?” she asked while
snaking her way into traffic.

“Confusing,” Rob answered honestly.

“Confusing?” Carol repeated the word with a
smile. She cocked her head to one side. “Confusing?”

He returned her look. “Perplexing?
Disorienting? How 'bout consternating?”

“Okay, mister thesaurus. How 'bout a deeper
explanation than words that mean the same thing as confusing?”

Rob recalled the highlights of the
conversation again, but he really wanted to let it go until
morning. His brain was in need of a rest. “I don't know. Benny was
…”

“Confusing?” Carol finished his thought for
him after he paused.

“Yeah. He was fine through most of lunch but
towards the end, he just … I don't know.”

“Is he alright?” Carol was concerned. She
had known Benny Walsh for fifteen years. Rob had introduced him to
her after they were engaged. “He's not sick, is he?”