Andrew Klavan - The truth of the matter

“But that’s crazy! I don’t just believe in anything that comes along. I’ve thought a lot about the things I believe. It’s about people being free and…”

Waterman raised a hand. “You don’t have to explain it to me, son. We know all about your beliefs, Charlie. Your beliefs are exactly what we’re counting on. I’m just talking about what Sherman thinks. We feel if we can set up a scenario where it seems you have reason to feel bitter and disgruntled-like your being unfairly convicted of murder, for instance-it’ll give Sherman fresh motivation to approach you and win you over. And it’ll make your conversion believable to the people in charge.”

“Okay,” I said uncertainly. “I get that, I guess. So I’m unfairly convicted and Sherman recruits me. Then what?”

“Then you work your way into the organization. You go through their training, you get assigned to carry out a terrorist attack and find out about any other attacks that are being planned. Then you help us prevent the attacks and find the people in charge so we can bring them to justice.”

When Waterman was done, I sat in silence. I guess you could say I was dumbfounded. I mean, listen, I would do just about anything to protect this country, its freedom, its people. I already wanted to join the Air Force, and protect it from the sky. But this…

“Why can’t you just use one of your own people?” I said after a while. “I mean, you’re spies, right? This is what you do.”

“We’ve tried that. The Homelanders are too good, too sharp. We believe they even have people with access to government records. They see through our cover stories, they spot our agents. But someone like you. A teenager. Someone with no connection to us…”

“Yeah, I get it, I get it.”

“That’s why there’ll only be a small number of people- just me and a few others in the organization and one other outsider-who’ll know what’s going on, who’ll be able to prove your true purpose and identity.”

I shook my head as the whole picture finally made itself clear to me. I turned away. I stared out the window of the limousine.

“Look, you don’t have to give me an answer now,” Waterman went on. “And before you do answer, I want you to understand completely what I’m asking of you. You’ll be taken away from your family, your school, your friends, your girlfriend. They’ll all believe you were convicted of murder. They’ll believe you’re a fugitive who’s escaped from prison. They may even come to learn you’ve become a member of a group of terrorists. I can’t say how long it will be before you can come home and tell them the truth. It might take a month, six months, a year-I just don’t know. In the end, if you succeed, if you infiltrate the Homelanders, if you bring these people down before they can attack us, maybe you’ll be a hero. Maybe they’ll give you a parade in your hometown. But if you get caught, if the Homelanders expose you, kill you… Well, what we’re doing isn’t exactly legal, doesn’t exactly have the approval of all our higher-ups, you understand me? If it all goes wrong, we’ll never admit we know you, we’ll never tell anyone the truth. Everyone who loves you will go to his grave believing you betrayed your country.”

I went on staring out the window. I didn’t see the forest passing or the sky above the forest or the stars gleaming in the sky. I didn’t even see my own faint reflection on the window glass. All I could think of was the people I knew. My mom and dad. Beth. My friends at school. All I could see was the look in their eyes-what that look would be when they saw me accused of murder, when they saw me convicted, taken off to prison. I mean, my mom-she worried frantically about me even at the best of times. I couldn’t take a walk without her thinking I was going to trip and fall down and break my leg or something. How would she ever get through something like this? How would she ever be able to stand it?

But on the other hand… on the other hand, if what this Waterman guy was saying was true, if there really were people who wanted to attack this country, to terrorize people, to bring down all the things that had made us, really, the freest nation that had ever existed in all the long history of the world… then how could I just stand by and let it happen? How could I say no?

I turned back to Waterman…

And in a snapping flash of light, the scene was gone. I was gone. There was nothing but a sort of woozy, searing darkness and then…

I opened my eyes. I was on the floor of the Panic Room, my cheek against the cold tiles. For a moment I couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t remember where I was or what was happening.

And then I did remember. I remembered the limousine. The forest passing outside the window. Waterman.

We want to frame you for murder.

I sat up quickly. I winced as a dagger of pain went through my head, and a wave of nausea washed through my stomach. But I gritted my teeth and fought the pain and sickness down. What did it matter? A little pain was nothing. A little nausea-nothing. I remembered! I remembered what had happened. I remembered how I had become part of the Homelanders.

I was working for Waterman, for America. I was infiltrating the terrorist organization in an effort to bring them down.

My hands curled into tight fists. My vision blurred with emotion. I remembered! What I’d done, who I was. All the people who believed in me-my parents, Beth, my friends, Sensei Mike-all the people who hadn’t thought I was a murderer after all, who had trusted I wasn’t one of the bad guys even when I’d doubted it myself. They’d all been right. I’d never hurt Alex, I’d never been a terrorist, I’d only broken out of prison as part of the plan…

For a second, all I could do was sit there, staring through the blur of emotions, joyful and grateful to God that my life was finally coming back to me.

And then-then my mind cleared. My vision cleared. I looked around and saw where I was. I remembered what was happening.

I was in the Panic Room. Stuck here behind a door I didn’t know how to open. Stuck here while the seconds ticked away and the Homelanders prepared to blow the place to smithereens.

The Sign Fighting off my headache and my stomachache and the weakness in my muscles, I grabbed hold of the side of the chest and pulled myself to my feet. How long had I been out? I looked at my watch. I’d only been unconscious about twenty minutes this time. It wasn’t much, but it was long enough for the Homelanders to have set a bomb and run for it. The explosion could go off any minute, any second, for all I knew. How much time did I have left?

I stared at the wall in front of me-the wall that held the invisible door-that blank, blank wall. The Panic Room struck me as a good name for this place just then because I could feel myself starting to panic.

But then, as my mind continued clearing, something came back to me. What was it? Just before that last seizure- the last “memory attack,” you might call it-I’d had an idea, hadn’t I? An idea had started to take shape in my mind about how I might be able to get out of here-maybe even get out before the killer-Waylon- and the rest of the Homelanders blew the place up.

What was it? What had I been thinking?

I looked around, trying to recapture the half-formed thought. My gaze fell on the chest, the empty chest. Something… Something had been there…

And then I saw the tray. The tray that had had the sandwich on it. I’d taken it off the chest when I’d opened it. I’d set it on the floor… There was something about the tray, something on the tray…

It all came back to me.

A flash of pain went through my forehead as I reached down and picked up the 3 x 5 index card Waterman had left for me with the food and water. I had to shut my eyes a moment until the headache passed. But a moment later, I forced my eyes open. I reread the message written on the card: