Chapter 10: Going Home

The next morning, we had our final breakfast together as a team. I would have to say it was one of the most emotional times of my life. It is hard to describe the relationship that I had with Andi and Randy. I loved Andi and Randy, but it was not the in-love sort of relationship I had with my wife Karen. The Greeks had a name for it, Philia, or deep friendship. It is that type of love in which you show loyalty to one another or the willingness to sacrifice for each other. That is what I felt toward my teammates, and I knew they felt the same toward me. I also felt the same toward my friend Lawrence, but not to the same level. It took the trip to Russia for the three of us to form that bond.

After breakfast, I used the hotel phone to call Karen. I wanted to let her know that I should be home by mid-afternoon, and I would appreciate someone being there this time to pick me up. The phone rang three times until a very sleepy Karen picked it up.

“Hello,” Karen mumbled into the telephone handset.

“Is that any way for you to greet your husband?” I quizzed a very sleepy wife.

“James, is that you?” a suddenly perked-up, excited wife asked.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you interested in seeing your estranged husband soon?” I said jovially. “Or should I wait a couple of days and try again?”

“James, stop your bullshit and tell me when you are coming home.” She shouted into the phone.

“Well, if you want to see me, I guess you could meet me at the airport around 3 PM this afternoon. I am coming in on a Delta direct flight from DC to Chicago. You are interested in seeing me, aren’t you?”

“James Mercer, if you want to live to see another sun rise, you better be where you say you will be, or even your FBI friends won’t be able to save you.”

“OK, you convinced me. I will see you this afternoon at 3 p.m. Chicago time at O’Hare. I sure have missed you.”

That made her breakdown and cry. “I was so worried about you. No one knows where you are. I was so scared you were doing something dangerous and wouldn’t be coming home to me.”

“Karen, I will see you this afternoon, and I do love you and always will,” ending the call.

That call turned out to be a very emotional one for me. Randy and Andi had heard it. Randy tried not to look at me and pretended he was interested in the weave pattern of the couch’s seat cushions. Andi sat there with tears streaming down her cheeks, giving me the oddest looks. I wish I could tell what was going on in that head of hers. We were the closest of friends, yet she was a woman. How was a person ever going to figure out what was going on inside that head of hers?

Before we parted ways, we had some business to attend to. There was the question of what to do with the Makarovs and Skorpions we secreted out of Russia in the sea bag. The most important thing is what to do with the cash we sort of borrowed from the Russian Communist Party member or local crime boss. If we turned it in, it would end up in some bureaucrat’s bank account, tax-free.

We were not positive as to the exact amount we had left. I knew we had been handing it out left and right to those who had helped us as a nice thank-you gift. There was still a stack of British Pound Notes and one hundred dollar bills left in the sea bag. We each took a share and sat there, counting it. The final tally was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in US currency and British pounds. We decided we would share it equally and do the dividing later. Until then, it would stay in the sea bag, and it would go to Chicago with me. I could keep the sea bag in my office at the university, and no one would be wiser. There would be no prying eyes and no need to answer embarrassing questions from the authorities. I would have Karen stop by the university on the way home and deposit it in my office for safekeeping. The others were agreeable to that, so that is what we would do.

It soon became time for us to get ready to depart and head for our hometowns. We each had the others’ addresses and phone numbers. Andi went into the bedroom to change into her traveling clothes. Randy wore what he had. I wanted to make an impression on Karen, so I decided to once again dress in my new suit. Two hours later, it was time to go down and check out. Before we went downstairs, we gave each other hugs and promised to get together later that summer and make the split then.

Andi gave us each a tight hug and a very serious kiss right on the mouth. I think only Karen had ever kissed me more intensely. I was going to miss her. Randy gave me a manly hug, and it was difficult for us to go our own way.

We rode down the elevator together. We went over to the check-out desk to hand in our room keys and sign whatever forms we needed to sign.

I turned around to see how we were going to get to the airport. There stood Molly, patiently waiting for us. She smiled and motioned for us to come over to where she was waiting. Molly greeted us and said our rides to the airports would be here shortly.

Mine was leaving from Dulles; Andi’s was National, and Randy’s was Andrews, as he was still in the military.

Our time together was ending, and you could feel the anticipation of us returning to our own lives. We may be away from each other, but we still share that bond and probably always will. Molly said my ride was here, and the hotel employee with the luggage cart was moving it toward the door. I turned toward my friends to give them a last goodbye. Molly stopped and gave me a hug. She whispered in my ear that it had been interesting being my minder for the last couple of days and hoped we would see each other sometime in the future.

I was out the door, headed for an all-too-familiar town car with my belongings in the trunk. A familiar face greeted me, and I returned that greeting.

“Doc, you are like a bad penny. You keep turning up,” said Robert.

“Robert, I am going to miss your wit and your excellent driving skills. I hate driving in Chicago traffic,” I replied.

I got into the back seat, and we headed toward Dulles Airport. After a pleasant thirty-minute ride to Dulles International, Robert stopped the town car in front of the Delta terminal. Both Robert and I got out of the car and walked to the back of the town car. A skycap came up to assist in getting my baggage onto a luggage cart. I shook hands with Robert once again and told him I might see him again soon. He wished me well, got back into the town car, and drove off.

I followed the skycap up to the Delta Service Desk and handed over my ticket voucher for the Delta ticket agent to print out my boarding pass. I checked my baggage and made sure I had all my claim tickets for the checked baggage with me. I had 250,000 reasons to make sure I had them all, plus a couple of souvenirs from Russia I did not want to have to explain to the authorities. I almost forgot to tip the skycap. The poor porter stood there with his hand out the whole time I was checking in at the ticket counter. I smiled at the skycap and apologized for making him wait like that. I gave him a little more than I originally planned to tip him because he had to wait.

I made my way to the passenger waiting area within the airport’s security zone. Checking my watch, I still had more than two hours until my flight. I wondered why the trip to the airport was so early. Molly probably had other things to do than babysit me and the other team members. I started to question whether wearing my new outfit was such a smart idea. I didn’t want Karen to see me in a rumpled suit; I wanted to impress her. We had been apart for a month.

I sat there thinking about my adventure over the last month; it would make a great conversation at a faculty-socializing event. “So, Dr. Mercer, what did you do over the summer?”

“Oh, I just went on a top secret mission to Russia, was chased by some bad guys, was shot at, and spent time with a beautiful woman, who was not my wife. Let’s see ... Oh yeah, I indirectly saved the world from nuclear destruction. So it was a pretty routine summer vacation.”

I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of that thought. I did smile a bit, and a woman sitting across from me in the lounge thought I was smiling at her and started yakking away in some mindless conversation. I swear she did not slow down at all in the ten minutes I endured sitting there. Finally, I did excuse myself by giving the reason of having to call an associate about some matter. I hastily ran to the men’s restroom and hid for a few minutes before finding a snack bar and ordering a Coke, hoping she didn’t notice me and continue droning on about whatever she thought amusing to talk about.

I had about half of the soft drink gone when a man sat down next to me at the counter. What gives? I looked along the counter; all the other chairs were unoccupied, and this man sat down next to me. I was beginning to feel uneasy, to say the least.

“Dr. Mercer?” the man next to me asked.

“I am,” I replied. “Who exactly are you, and what do you want?”

“My employers didn’t finish up our business arrangement properly. For that, they apologize. I came to locate you and to finish the paperwork. The agreed-upon sum you were promised as compensation has been deposited in your bank account. There will be no need to worry about the IRS getting their hands on your money. The taxes on it are posted to your IRS account. I’d also like to tell you that your services were very appreciated, although they would prefer that you not discuss your job with the agency.”

“Sir, people who know me wouldn’t believe it if I did tell them. They would just laugh and say, Tell us another one,” I responded.

At that, my new acquaintance smiled.

“Lastly, Dr. Mercer, my employers may have future jobs that will require your abilities. Are you interested?” the stranger asked.

All I said back to him was, “We’ll talk.”

My new friend got up and left me sitting at the counter.

When I was finished with my drink, I did not want to face that woman in the passenger waiting area, so I wandered around the concourse, window-shopping in the small shops and kiosks. Even that got boring, so I went back to the passenger area and found a quiet corner to hide. I kept an eye on the arrival board for the status of my flight. Finally, it showed that the plane had arrived. I got up, headed over to the boarding gate, and got ready to queue up in the line for the cheap seats.

I took out my boarding pass to see the row and seat I had. I expected to be on the row across from the airplane’s restroom. When I saw my seat assignment, I was shocked to see that I was in first class rather than the cheaper seats. Someone decided to reward me by placing me in one of the prime seats. You could have knocked me down with a feather.

A little over two hours later, the jet was making its final approach to O’Hare. I cannot begin to describe how excited I was to get home. A month away from home, my wife and my friends were catching up with me. The adrenaline was causing me to get antsy. I wanted to shout at the flight attendant, who was nothing short of spectacular in providing for the passengers in first class, “Can’t this thing go any faster?” I kept glancing out the window as we made the final approach and watching the pilot bleed off speed and altitude. The buildings became bigger and bigger and no longer looked like matchbox cars and tiny HO-scale model houses. I could even make out individuals going about their business. I watched after we cleared the airport’s security fence and felt the wheels gently touch down on the tarmac. Smooth, no bounce like there had been on some other flights. This pilot knew what he was doing, and I hoped his pay matched his abilities.

It took another ten minutes for the airliner to make its way to Jet Express Way and for the crew to open the door. Everyone, of course, stood up to get their things out of the overhead bins and gather their personal belongings. The passengers from first class were the first ones to leave the plane and make it down the walkway and into the terminal.

Once I got inside the terminal, I saw that the passenger waiting and arrival area was further away from the exit gate than I had anticipated. There, I noticed my wife basically bouncing up and down to gain my attention. I was happy to see her. Lawrence, Camilla, and, believe it or not, Grandma Jorgenson with her large handbag were also present. I grinned to myself, wondering how she managed to get her wooden spoon past security.

Karen’s jumping up and down caught the attention of just about everyone, and all the incoming passengers were looking around to see who she was waiting for. I know many of the men in the jet way wish it were they. The sight of the six-foot-tall, blonde, beautiful Viking Princess jumping around was difficult to ignore.

I came through the security checkpoint, and Karen ran to me and almost knocked me over with the greeting she gave me. The way she kept kissing me and crying was embarrassing. I was not one for public displays of affection, and I just held her closely. We soon rejoined our group of friends and family who were there to greet me. Lawrence gave me a manly hug and looked at me in a questioning manner.

I just told him, “We will talk later.”

I went to hug Grandma Jorgenson, and she gave me a questioning look as well. I just smiled at her and told her, “It has been a long day at the airports and such. I am just tired.”

Grandma Jorgenson did not say anything, but I could tell she was looking at me suspiciously.

We all headed to the baggage claim area, and shortly my belongings were on the belt. I was terrified to see whether the sea bag would appear, and if not, if an ATF, FBI squad was there to push me up against a wall, like they did Ginny B not long ago. It did not seem all that long ago, I reflected as I waited for the remainder of my belongings to arrive. The sea bag was my next-to-last bag. I breathed a sigh of relief when it seemed untouched. After the last bag arrived, we went to the short-term parking lot, where Lawrence had his ever-present government-supplied cop car sedan parked.

Lawrence carried a couple of my bags and I insisted I carry the sea bag. I told them it was something for research and it could not leave my sight. I do not think I fooled anyone by my actions but they were kind enough not to cause a scene. On the way home, I asked if we could stop by my office so I could drop the bag off. It would save me a ton of problems later because I was not sure how I would get it to the university riding my motorcycle. He agreed and I said it would not take me but a minute.

The ride to the university was roughly an hour long. Everyone chattering away asking where I had been. I just told them I had been in Washington and that I was sorry but I couldn’t talk about what I was working on. When I stated that, Lawrence looked back at me in the mirror and gave me the look that said, “Yes, you were in DC, but there is more to the story than what you are telling.”

Lawrence pulled up to the curb in front of the Math and Sciences building where my office was located. We both got out of the car, he to open the trunk so I could retrieve the bag. With the trunk, lid up and no one in the car could see or hear Lawrence looked at me and said, “You want to tell me what is going on? You aren’t the same guy I knew before.”

“Lawrence, I can’t talk right now, maybe later,” I responded. I picked up the bag and headed for my office so I could deposit it there and be back in a reasonable amount of time.

I hurriedly walked to the entrance of the math and science building. Since it was between semesters and no one was on campus I had to use my key to get into the building. My office was on the main floor so I did not have to use the stairs as I assumed the elevators were not working. I used my key to unlock my office door and opened it. Other that a healthy pile of interoffice memos shoved under my door during my absence, the office looked like it had when I left it a month ago.

I put the bag in the corner behind my desk and as further camouflage; I grabbed a jacket I had left in my office and placed the jacket on top of it. Looking back, as I was about to leave the office, it appeared like the bag had been there for quite some time. I was happy with my camouflage job and prepared to go, but not before leaning down to pick up the stack of memos and depositing them in the trash bin, as I always did. Besides, who had the time to read them anyway?

I hurried back to the car just in time to see Lawrence in a verbal sparring match with my friend the fat campus cop who had given me trouble a few years back. From the looks of things, it looked like the fat cop was on the losing side in the argument. I did hear, “And if I find out a ticket made out for my government vehicle I will come down on you like a ton of bricks. And, if I hear of you hassling Dr. Mercer over there, the same outcome. Dr. Mercer is one of us you know what that means. So I don’t need to remind you.”

I was enjoying this, remembering how that fat tub of lard had enjoyed giving me grief a few years back. As I got back to the car, I nodded at the cop and smiled as he quickly waddled away.

“Thanks Lawrence that was very enjoyable seeing you lay into that jerk. He was the one that annoys me all the time. Paybacks are as they describe, I seriously doubt he will even look in my general direction in the future,” I laughed.

“Now let’s get home, I am tired and hungry and I can’t wait to eat some of my wife’s and Grandma Jorgenson’s best.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into the drive of our townhouse. I looked everything over as I was getting out. Nothing had changed. I almost broke out in tears, getting emotional. I at one time thought I would never see it or my wife again. I turned back to the car to help Grandma Jorgenson out of the car. I caught her once again giving that weird look. I wondered what she was thinking.

We all went into the living room. I took off my suit jacket, laid it across the back of the couch, and sat down. It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings. I loved being back among friends and family. Looking around the room, I saw nothing had changed and then I smelled this wonderful smell from the kitchen. It had been a long time since I smelled anything like that. It was Grandma Jorgenson’s pot roast cooking in a slow cooker. My mouth started watering just thinking about it.