Shadow World

1. 1946: Shutdown…

The sunrays reflecting off the smooth, yellow sand of the Sahara desert almost blinded the driver of the green navy truck despite of his rugged, navy-issued sunglasses. It was an odd scene. The driver, a white American male in his late twenties driving in the middle of no where, far away from everything familiar to him. He was wearing a pair of shorts and an undershirt. In this extreme heat, that was all he could wear. The fact that both the driver-side and passenger-side windows were open didn’t ease the heat; on the contrary the hot air made him sweat even more.
He had been driving with nothing to see but a thin yellow line rising to meet the pale blue skies at the horizon. His pale skin had turned a light shade of red an hour ago. He hadn’t noticed that, however, since he had no time to look in the mirror. Come to think of it he didn’t remember looking in the mirror since the government relocated his scientific team to the Sahara desert in Egypt a year ago. Things had been hectic since he set foot on this land and to top things off they had to build the laboratory in the middle of no where, four hours away from any civilization.
He was opposed to setting a lab in Egypt in the first place. There were plenty of places in the United States of America suitable for the kind of project he was in charge of. Unfortunately a scientist nowadays couldn’t just be an expert in his field, he had to be a cunning and deceptive politician, or at least should know how to get along with cunning and deceptive politicians. He didn’t enjoy this part of his job, but the government was the only establishment willing and able to support his research.

It all started nine years ago. He was the youngest person ever to graduate from Harvard Medical School at the tender age of eighteen. He was a genius. Things that took his colleagues weeks to understand and many months to master, only took him very few days to understand and a few weeks to master. The rest of the time he spent doing his own research.
The human body fascinated him, the most complex machine on the face of the Earth. Its efficiency and beauty amazed him. The brain, the heart, the nervous system, neurotransmitters, hormones even the basic cells cooperate together to make up a living, thinking human being. That is an incredible design, he thought. What makes these components work the way they do? How could a cell that could not be seen by the naked eye relay and integrate complicated chemical and electrical messages? What makes the body depend on oxygen and not carbon dioxide or any other gas? What is the brain’s full capability?
These questions crowded his mind since he was ten years old. When he asked them to his father, the only answer he got was, ‘read more’ and that was exactly what he did. Throughout his life he read books and scientific journals written by the most notable scientists in the field of biology. He read anything that he could get his hands on. By the end of his university degree he had a clear idea of what makes the human body tick, of what makes it the way it is. But in order to verify his theories many tests and many sensitive experiments that required huge amounts of data had to be performed. He proposed his theories to the head of Harvard Medical school, but wasn’t taken seriously. A nineteen year old boy, no matter how smart he was, would never be given the funding to run expensive research that most probably would lead to nothing but his own selfish satisfaction.
He looked desperately for any one to believe in him, to support him, to share in his great vision… tapping in the body’s power source, its building blocks. Unfortunately for the next three years he was unsuccessful in finding such a person. He had to do all he could do on his own, but his resources were limited. The few results he was able to attain, however, showed everything he expected. Yet as much as the data he produced indicated that he was on the right track, the more useful data he needed to advance towards his goal could not be obtained without more rigorous experiments requiring much more advanced technologies he didn’t possess nor had access to… until the winter of 1939.
It was a dark night in the middle of January. He remembered it well as if it was only yesterday. After almost four years of working hard on his research without any notable accomplishments, feelings of discouragement and depression started bombarding him. That night he went to a bar in down town Boston determined to drink himself to another world where all his concerns were of no concern to him.
Once he entered the bar, the sudden realization that he had never, in his twenty-one years of living, set foot in a bar hit him. The lights were dim and the air stank with the odor of liquor and cigarette smoke. The few people scattered throughout the small bar were hunched over their tables cradling a drink or relishing a cigarette as if it were their last, or in some cases both. He took a couple of steps in and suddenly noticed that he was the center of attention of the bar. Trying to act as if he was invisible to all the eyes staring at him, he moved to the counter.
“Give me a shot of the strongest stuff you’ve got,” he told the bartender.
The bartender, a stocky man about five feet and six inches, in his mid fifties looked him up and down trying to judge his age. The older man was wearing an apron over his clothes, which had the stench of alcohol.
“How old are you boy?” The bartender asked.
“Does it really matter?” The scientist replied and took out a five-dollar bill from his pocket and placed it on the counter. “I have money.”
The bartender’s eyes switched from the money to the man’s face a couple of times before he shrugged in indifference. He placed a small glass cup in front of the scientist and poured some dark yellow liquid into it. The customer choked down the entire contents of the glass in one shot. He was trying to show that he had done this sort of thing before. The first thing he felt was a burning sensation in his mouth, then in his throat as the concentrated alcohol made its way to his stomach. Seconds after that his face turned three shades of red and he suddenly felt extremely warm and fuzzy. He was experiencing a slight tingling sensation in the back of his mind.
The bartender was frowning at his young customer. It seemed that he would fall unconscious at any moment.
“Hey buddy, are you alright?” The bartender asked, worried that his bar license would be revoked if that person dropped dead in his place.
“Yeah I am fine,” the scientist said, his voice barely higher than a whisper. His face was returning to its normal color though. “G’me another one.”
The bartender hesitated for a second.
“C’mon, C’mon. Hurry up.”
The older man filled the cup once more. The scientist grabbed it, spilling a bit over the side as he moved off to the nearest vacant table in unsteady steps. The bartender watched him for a moment then shook his head murmuring to himself in disbelief, “Can’t be drunk yet!”
The scientist sat at his table swirling his drink slowly after he took a sip. As much as he found the previous sensation, when he gulped his whole drink in one shot, interesting he decided not to go through it again. Already he was feeling that his control over his thoughts was weakening. He didn’t want to reach the point where he would not be able to walk home.
As he pondered the origins of life, or the origins of his drink or whatever people think of when they are drunk, he did not notice the tall man in a black suit and a black tie taking the seat facing him. After a couple of minutes when the scientist still took no notice of the man, the man coughed politely trying to announce his presence. Finally the young, drunken genius looked up. For long moments he stared dumbly at the man.
“Do I know you?” He finally asked.
“No. But I know you Doctor Gilden,” the man replied. “I have been following your work for quite a while now.”
“What work?” Howard Gilden said. “I don’t know you and I am not sure I like you very much. Go away.”
The man smiled as he realized that he was talking to a drunken scientist.
“You shouldn’t drink too much doctor,” he said. “It’s not good for you.”
“Are you my mother?” Gilden took another sip from his drink just to annoy the man. “Don’t tell me what to do. I do what I want, when I want.”
“Well, big brother would like you sober.”
“I don’t have any older brothers,” Gilden said confused.
“I didn’t say ‘older brother’, I said ‘big brother’.”
“Are we going to talk in riddles for the rest of the evening?” Gilden replied angrily. “Or are you going to tell me who the hell you are and what the hell you want? But if you won’t, then screw off.”
The conversation was attracting the attention and the ears of the other customers. That didn’t seem to appeal to the man in the black suit. He leaned forward on the table and said with a low voice, “Doctor Gilden, I am with the government and we have taken a certain interest in your theories and work! Now if you don’t mind accompanying me outside.”
Howard Gilden remained silent for a minute staring at the man sitting in front of him. Awkward minutes seemed to pass very slowly as both men stared at each other. Suddenly Gilden burst out in loud laughter as if he just heard the funniest joke.
“Hey everybody,” Gilden announced loudly as he was standing up. “He---is from the government and he is looking for me.”
He continued his laughter. The government agent apparently didn’t take kindly to that. He stood up and grabbed the scientist’s right arm firmly, pulling him towards the exit.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Gilden jerked his arm free from the man’s grip and in the process spilled the contents of his cup, which he still had in his hand, on the man’s suit.
“Look Doctor,” the man said. He was putting a lot of effort in staying calm. “Please come outside and we can talk about this a bit more privately.”
“No, I don’t have to go with you any where.”
“Please doctor, there is no need for trouble I just want to talk to you in private,” the government agent warned.
“What are you going to do?” Gilden challenged. “Hit…”
Before he could finish his sentence, he fell unconscious. The scientist didn’t even see it coming. The blow was skilled and effective, write to the back of his neck. One moment he was saying something, the other he felt a sharp pain to the base of his neck and then everything went dark.

It was two hours later when Howard Gilden started regaining consciousness. The first of his senses that started to work was his sense of touch. He felt the soft and cool touch of leather under his hands. A second later all the rest of his senses kicked in. The first images his eyes portrayed to him were ill lighted. That only lasted until his eyes automatically adjusted to the relative darkness of his surroundings. He was now able to see clearly where he was. It was a car, but not moving. They were parked some where he didn’t recognize, maybe because his visibility was distorted by the car’s darkly tinted windows or maybe because he had never seen that place before. The inside of the car was simply luxurious. Its black leather seats were making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, or it could have just been the after effects of the blow he received earlier.
Suddenly, he remembered what happened to him. He remembered going to a bar, then meeting this peculiar personality claiming to be a government agent and then having an argument with him and--and--that was it. What happened after that? The next thing he remembered is this car.
Howard Gilden was a calm and logical man by nature. He rarely panicked, even under excruciating circumstances. By his standards an excruciating situation was an experiment not turning the expected results, or a hard question on an exam, or in the extreme being late for an important meeting, but never ever being kidnapped. To him that was beyond excruciating. It was harrowing. It was agonizing. It was horrible. It was…
His body started to shake in fear and then his tears fell on his cheeks with soft sobs. He never noticed that he was not alone in the car. He never gave himself the chance to look around. He lost all his unmatched abilities to logically and intelligently explain a situation once he realized that he was at the mercy of a lunatic or at least that was how his mind portrayed his predicament.
“Hey buddy,” a male voice said with a hint of amusement. “Are you crying?”
Gilden looked up while hastily wiping the tears from his eyes and face. His first reaction was not to show his kidnapper his fear… too late! Gilden squinted in the darkness trying to distinguish the features of the man sitting on the opposite couch, but could not. The man was sitting in the darkest spot of what Howard now realized was not just a car but a limousine. The only light shining in the limousine was coming from a single street lamp and it was only shedding its illumination on the man’s feet.
Gilden noticed that the man was wearing black pants. He squinted some more but still couldn’t see the man’s face.
“Who are you?” Gilden asked. Fear filled his voice.
“Don’t be scared,” the man said and leaned forward. Now his face was completely in the circle of light. It was the government agent.
“You…”
“Yes, me,” the government agent said. “Now can you listen to me. I am not here to hurt you, and I am a government agent.”
The man pulled his identification out from his pocket and handed it to Howard Gilden. The scientist took it hesitantly from the man’s hand and put it in the path of the light illuminating the car. The identification was the man’s alright. He handed it back to the government agent.
“What does the government want from me?” Gilden inquired regaining some of his security.
“As I tried to tell you,” the man started. “I have been following your career for the past four years, since you graduated. The government is really interested in what you’re doing.”
“How did the government get interested in me in the first place?”
“That’s why they call us Big Brother!” The government agent smiled. “And besides you sent proposals of your research to at least ten universities in the United States. We were bound to find out about you sooner or later”
“But none of them got accepted,” Gilden pointed out.
“Yes that’s true,” the man nodded. “No one believed that you had the potential to accomplish what you have accomplished on your own so far. But just as a precaution I was assigned to keep an eye on you.”
“Boy, that makes me feel better!” Gilden snorted. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. How did the government get hold of my proposals.”
“Well the government is very interested in any thing that has to do with biology and the papers that you sent entitled, “Building blocks of the human body”, really got our attention. We keep track of all research proposals sent to any university in America. You claimed in your paper that you have found the elements that define us?”
“Yes, I believe that I have found evidence of strands that basically contain every aspect about the human body,” Gilden paused and found that the government agent was willing to listen to him. “These strands define how we look, how strong we are, basically every little tiny detail, from the color of our hair to how smart we are.”
“And you also claimed that eventually we would be able to control this?” The government agent prompted.
“Well, not without extensive research and experimentation. Besides controlling a human body is currently beyond science and I would think that it will remain this way for a long, long time,” Gilden was starting to sound more at ease.
“What about if I told you that the government is willing to support you in your research. We’re willing to provide you with all the equipment you need, even machinery that you’ve never seen before. We have things that are years ahead of our time. We have a machine called the computer. It can store an unbelievable amount of information and it has an incredible computational power. You can program it to do anything that you want. I believe that this will enhance your research a hundred fold. You’ll be able to analyze data that would normally take you weeks in mere minutes. We’re willing to give you all that.”
“Just out of the goodness of your heart?” Gilden said skeptically.
“Of course not,” the man smiled. “You know better than that. The only draw back is that you will not be able to publish your research for the next thirty years. You’ll not be able to go public with your findings. All your work and effort will be the sole property of the United States government.”
“Why?”
“We try to stay on top of the game my dear sir. Imagine this scenario if you may. Say you’re able to accurately pin point these so called strands and let’s be optimistic and say you figured out how to control them. Now imagine, you went public with your research and some other country’s government was able to get hold of it, say the Germans or the Japanese for example. If they take your research and are able to develop a new breed of weapons, what would that mean to us?”
Gilden stared blankly.
“It’s not that hard. We’re at the verge of war with them.”
“So you’re planing to use me. You’re planing to take my discoveries and make weapons of mass destruction? Biological Weapons? Weapons no one has ever seen the like before.”
The government agent chuckled shaking his head.
“You don’t understand doctor.” The man paused trying to put what he wanted to say in terms that the scientist would understand. “That’s the problem with scientists. You can’t see except your own research. You see, power doesn’t only mean having a powerful arsenal. It means being first at everything. Accomplishing achievements that others can only dream of. You should understand. In school you always had to stay one step ahead of everybody, even if it meant with holding information or… deception.”
“Never deception,” Gilden denied.
“Come on doctor,” the man smiled. “Not even a little… Any way that’s not the point. Think about it as a service to your country. You’ll be making America stronger. You’ll be helping American people all over the US. I am no biologist, but if you do shed some light on these strands you talk about, wouldn’t that help you find cures for diseases that till now elude us. That’s all that you need to concern yourself about, figuring out the building blocks of the human body. The rest, you leave up to us.”
The man’s point was getting to Gilden’s head. He was not going to be explicitly participating in any weapons development. He could care less. The only important thing to him was his research. His dream would finally come true and the US government itself would back him up. Yet there was still that nagging voice in the back of his mind warning him that he would be making the wrong decision if he accepted the man’s proposal. It reminded him of the hypocritical oath he took as a doctor, to always help people and never participate in the harm of an individual. But what good would that do to him? Is that oath going to help his research that he spent so many years developing? There was a final debate between his morals and the scientist. The scientist within him prevailed.
There was a long pause as Howard Gilden made up his mind.
“When do we start?”
A wide smile spread over the government agent’s lips, “I knew you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
He shook Gilden’s hand firmly.

No time was wasted. Immediately upon the agreement the agent, whose name was Frank Holender, took Doctor Howard Gilden to a secret base, which Gilden never got to know its location. He was forced to wear a blind fold the whole way there. All he knew was that they drove for around three hours and then took a plane for another two. When he reached the base he signed several none disclosure documents and one specific agreement that made him liable for imprisonment if he broke any of the rules.
After three continuous days of lectures and warnings he was relocated to San Diego. He worried about his property back in Boston. Where would he live? What would he wear? All these concerns that accompany rapid moves crowded his mind, but he was assured that every thing was taken care of. They were correct. By the time he arrived to his new home he found that all his property beat him there. His home was quite a luxurious place. He never in a hundred years thought he would be able to afford such a place.
Benefits of working for top secret government projects, he thought
The next day he was escorted to his new research lab.
“I have died and gone to science heaven.”
That was the first thing he could say once he saw the lab. Afterwards he couldn’t find the words to express himself. The capabilities of the lab exceeded his wildest expectations. The fact that he was in charge of twelve biological scientists and around twenty technicians made him even more ecstatic. It was wild.
As happy as he was, he was also extremely puzzled. Why would the government put that much trust in him? For now he had no answer to that question, but he was definitely going to show them that they could explicitly trust his intelligence.
It took him only a few hours to get used to his new responsibilities and start his research.
His research advanced rapidly over the next two years. Every few months the lab would be re-equipped with more advanced machinery he was in need of. All he had to do was describe what functionality he needed and if it was possible to make, it was in the lab within a few months.
Everything went smoothly until 1945, when they decided to relocate Dr. Howard Gilden’s whole staff to Egypt. Gilden and his staff were offered no explanation. He tried hard to get answers from government officials, he even tried to contact the president himself, but was unsuccessful and he received no answers. On several occasions he felt that the results he produced weren’t satisfying enough, even though he proved the presence of his strand, which later came to be called DNA: deoxyribonucleic acid. DNA, he discovered, is a complex two-stranded molecule that contains, in chemically coded form, all the information needed to build, control and maintain a living organism. DNA is a ladder-like double-stranded nucleic acid that forms the basis of genetic inheritance in all organisms. His research led to finding several cures to genetically inherited diseases. But what Gilden didn’t know was that it also led to the development of several viruses that were used as biological weapons later on. What he didn’t know however, never hurt him. For instance, he never new that he was being constantly supervised by a group of other scientist who evaluated his work under a completely different set of guide lines than the ones he was originally presented with and operated under. The sudden decision to move his work to Egypt was made by them. They felt that his work needed to take on a new challenge.

They did move to Egypt and here he was driving in the middle of no where, the sun burning his pale skin. Till now he wondered how they got the Egyptian government’s permission to build the lab, but he didn’t over worry himself with such minor details.
Finally after four hours of driving he approached the lab. To the untrained eye the area where the lab was would just seem as another part of the desert, but in reality the sand covering the underground lab was only one foot in depth. Once Howard Gilden drove his truck close enough to a certain stretch of land, the land moved uncovering a pathway that Gilden could drive through. The pathway extended for five hundred feet and it had a fifteen-degree decline. It then seemed to come to an end. Gilden drove his truck through the narrow pathway. He had to be very careful in order not to scrape the sides of the truck against the solid concrete walls. The secret door closed after the truck went through. On the surface no one could tell that anything out of the ordinary went on in this area of the Sahara desert.
After the doors closed the only light illuminating the pathway was the truck’s headlights. The doctor drove until he reached a dead end. He then calmly turned off the engine and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. Only a couple of seconds later the square area that the truck was on started to descend rapidly. He wasn’t able to see anything, he could only feel the downward movement of the huge lift.
This place, with all its capabilities, amazed him. He wondered how long it took the government to build it. The lab was set about one thousand feet under the ground. The only means of getting in or out was via the lift he was on. Actually that was not entirely true. After a whole year of having this place as his home, he knew its ins and outs better than anyone else. A person with the right equipment could get in the lab through huge air ducts that served as the lab’s ventilation system. Of course before he or she could do that they would have to get pretty close to the lab area without triggering the alarms, and even if they were able to do that, which is nearly impossible, they would have to find the entrances to the air ducts. Once they were in the ventilation shafts they would have to shut down the ventilation fans so they wouldn’t get shredded into pieces. Overall, it was possible to get in through the air ducts but highly improbable. What puzzled him was why would the government go through all the trouble of building such a secured underground research lab in Egypt while they could have stayed in the United States. He wanted an answer for this question since they were relocated, but could get none.
Finally Howard felt the lift slow down until it came to a full stop. Huge double doors opened in front of him revealing a storage facility. It was a cubical area. All of its walls were made out of dark gray concrete. He found this color to be extremely depressing. There were three trucks identical to his parked opposite to the lift he was on. There was also a couple of Jeeps parked to his left. Opposite to the parked trucks, there were special containers specifically designed to move sensitive equipment. These containers were used to ship the equipment from the San Diego lab. Other than that there was nothing else in this place. He started his truck and parked it beside the three other trucks.
He got out of the car. After four hours of driving his body was extremely stiff. He stretched his arms and bent his back backwards trying to get rid of this feeling. With this stretching movement, he felt rather than heard the joints in his back and arms pop. Extreme relief then followed.
“Ah,” he let out a long sigh of relief.
He walked around to the back of the truck and started moving out the food he bought from Cairo onto a dolly that was near by. He bought quite a bit of food, enough for all his thirty-two staff members. Every week one of them had to go buy the food supply for the following week. He had to admit he missed the hamburgers and the rest of the fast foods he used to eat in America. Here in Egypt they had to cook almost everything on their own.
A man approached Howard. Gilden couldn’t see him because the truck blocked his view, but he could hear his footsteps.
“Hey George,” Howard Gilden said. He didn’t have to look at the man to know who he was. George had a distinctive walk since he broke his right knee while climbing a flight of stairs three months back. Since then he depended on his left leg to support most of his weight and when he walked his left foot hit the ground harder making a louder noise than his right foot.
“Hi Howard,” George said cheerfully. “Did you buy me my favorite food?”
“Don’t worry, your ‘Kabab’ is safe with me.”
Kabab was cow meet grilled on real coal.
“My ‘Kabab’ isn’t safe with any one but in my stomach,” George smiled as he helped Howard unpack.
“You know, you’re gaining unwanted fat there, Geo,” Howard laughed.
It was true. Before they moved to Egypt George was in an excellent physical condition. He used to run for an hour every day. Being six feet tall with a well built toned body he was often mistaken for a professional wrestler. He was also one of the few single men in Howard’s staff who could get a date in parties. Women seemed to be genuinely attracted to his baby face features and his smooth personality not to mention his body too. But since they came to Egypt he stopped working out. In fact the only working he did was fixing the lab equipment and maintaining them. He was the engineer on this project. Keeping all the equipment working at peak efficiency was his job, and it wasn’t a simple one. He worked with the most sophisticated and advanced medical equipment. And some of these equipment he helped invent himself. When it came to electronics and other engineering concepts he was a pure prodigy.
“It’s this place Howard. We’re trapped in here twenty-four seven. There is no place to move and with this damned knee I pretty much can’t do anything,” George replied.
“Oh, don’t worry about your knee,” Howard said. “Give it a couple of months and it’s going to be just fine.”
“But never normal.”
“Trust me you won’t know the difference between ninety-five percent normal and a hundred percent.”
“Whatever.”
By this time they were finished putting everything on the dolly. Howard made his way to the door leading out of the storage facility while pulling the dolly from its metal handle. George walked beside him. Once they exited the facility the scene completely changed. They entered into a long, narrow, brightly-lit corridor. The corridor walls and ceiling were white, while the floor was made of light green ceramic. That’s how they could tell what level of the underground complex they were in. There were ten levels and as a person went to deeper levels the floor became a progressively darker color. White was used for the first level. Yellow, orange, light blue, dark blue, hazy red, pure red, light green, dark green and black marked the second level to the tenth level respectively.
In actuality, they really didn’t use except the ninth and tenth levels. Their living quarters, lunchroom and kitchen occupied the ninth level while the lab and the discussion lounge, were they met to discuss research progress, occupied the tenth level. The eighth level contained the storage facility. The first level was just the pathway leading to the lift, which carried people in and out of the complex. As far as Howard Gilden and his staff were concerned the rest of the levels were extremely small circular areas and were basically there to serve construction workers, who built this complex, as a resting area and place for their construction equipment.1
Howard and George entered an elevator at the end of the corridor. Howard pressed the button for the ninth level and the elevator started its vertical descent downward. The elevator’s double doors opened a minute later allowing them to step into the ninth level with its dark green ceramic floor. Unlike the previous level they were on, this one was livelier. A number of Howard’s staff were walking up and down the corridor, some were holding notebooks in their hands, either checking results they recorded previously or simply writing down ideas they were getting at this moment.
Howard received waves and smiles from his staff as he walked passed them heading for the lunchroom. He returned the greetings with a nod or a smile or a quick “Hey, how are you?”. They were all on a first name basis; formalities were minimum in this lab. They have been together for over five years that they were almost a family. Even Howard didn’t like to be called doctor or sir. Howard or Howie served just fine.
“So are we going to eat today or what?” A woman in her mid thirties said. She was tall, almost as tall as George was. Her white lab coat covered her feminine curves. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, but stray strands covered her forehead. She was one of the thirteen female scientists in Howard’s staff.
“Don’t worry, you’re not going to sleep hungry, Jill,” Howard smiled back.
“With all that you’re pulling behind you, I hope not,” she replied and then walked past them. “I’ll tell the others lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah do that,” George said. “I can’t wait till I eat my ‘Kabab’.”
Howard and George took a left at a T-intersection and walked for a minute more before they entered the kitchen, which shared a wall with the lunchroom. The lunchroom was big enough to fit all of Howard’s staff. It contained ten circular lunch tables. There was no one present in the lunchroom and the kitchen but them.
“Okay,” Howard addressed George. “Let’s get the vegetables and fruits in the fridge and…”
Suddenly he was interrupted by a loud alarm that echoed throughout the complex. The alarm was accompanied by a flashing red light located in the upper left corner in the kitchen.
“What the hell,” George said distressed. “We have a breach!”
Immediately Howard ran out of the kitchen, George not far behind him. Everybody else was heading to the closest safe-room. In emergencies all staff must evacuate the corridors and get into the safety of their quarters or any safe-room. Safe-rooms were self-contained rooms. They had their own oxygen supplies, food supplies, water supplies and medical supplies that would last for a week while help was summoned. These safe-rooms were built incase of a viral outbreak.
Howard and George were running to the control room, which was also a safe-room, to see what the problem was. The control room was at the end of the corridor they were running through. When Howard entered the control room there were already three other men from his staff. They were all staring at one of the many TV monitoring screens.
There was a monitoring camera at the beginning of every corridor. Corridors were designated with upper case letters for ease of reference. These ‘Corridor Monitoring Cameras’ showed the entire length of their designated corridor. The feedback from all the cameras went to the control room Howard was now in. The control room had ten screens, one for each level. Each screen was on a timer. On none eventful days each screen cycled through all the views coming from all the cameras in a particular level. Once an intruder alarm sounded motion sensors located the intruder and sent his or her location to the closest camera that could monitor him. This camera in turn sent the images it captured to the control room.
Howard saw an Egyptian man in a white overall running aimlessly through corridor ‘C’ on level nine. The image wasn’t very clear since the intruder was far away from the camera. The man tried to open one of the living quarters’ doors but failed. All doors were automatically locked once an alarm sounded. They could only be unlocked from the control room or by a special code that could be entered at a number pad located beside the doorknob.
The man seemed hysterical. He banged on the door and kicked it but it wouldn’t budge. When he realized there was no use he continued running aimlessly. He was obviously trying to get out of the complex. However, what he didn’t realize was that he was completely imprisoned on this level.
“Can we get a closer look at that guy?” Howard asked one technician who controlled the movement of the cameras.
“He’s currently far away from all cameras,” the technician replied. “But it looks like he’s going to turn into corridor ‘D’.”
The intruder did indeed turn left into corridor ‘D’ and headed closer to the camera monitoring that corridor. His image got clearer on the screen until finally Howard was able to see his face on the black and white screen.
“Oh my God, what happened to that man?” Howard asked shocked.
The man’s skin took on a dark bluish color. It was extremely dry that obvious cracks could be seen. Blood was seeping out from these cracks. His white overall was bloodied all over. Suddenly the man stopped dead in his tracks and fell on his knees, holding his stomach; an expression of extreme pain was printed on his face. The cameras didn’t carry over sound, but everyone could tell that he was screaming in agonizing pain.
“We’ve got to help him,” Howard said and started to move out of the now locked control room.
George grabbed his arm firmly and said, “You can’t go out there. You don’t know what happened to that man. What happened to him might happen to you too.”
“No it won’t,” Howard said and jerked his arm free. He headed to a closet in the far-left corner of the control room and opened it. Hanging there was a contamination-suit. It was basically an overall made of a plastic-like material, with a helmet and its own oxygen supply, a completely separate environmental system. No virus or bacteria known to man could penetrate it.
Howard Gilden put on that suit and grabbed a pair of radios from one of the shelves in the closet. He turned to George and threw him one.
“Take this,” he said. “I’ll keep in touch with you.”
Howard unlocked the door to the control room and exited.
He walked through corridor ‘A’, which the control room was on. He turned left on to corridor ‘B’. That corridor extended for thirty meters straight and then curved slightly to end in a T-intersection with corridor ‘C’. He took a right in corridor ‘C’ and walked for another two minutes only to be met by another T-intersection. He turned left on corridor ‘D’ and this time he could see the man’s back2. He was rocking slowly and moaning in pain.
Howard brought the communication device he had with him up to his headpiece and said loudly, “Okay, George, I see him.”
“Be careful,” George’s voice came over the radio waves tangled in static.
Howard approached the man slowly, trying not to make any noise. However, the man heard him and spun around facing him. Gilden froze. He thought the man was in too much pain to move. Before the scientist could react, the man attacked. The man jumped Howard Gilden who fell under his weight. The blood coming out from every pore in the man’s body splattered on Howard’s headpiece and the rest of his suit. Instinctively, he pushed the attacker off him. To his surprise the man rolled over without any resistance.
Howard jumped to his feet and backed away. He felt his heart racing in fear. The man didn’t succeed in breaching his suit, but he definitely gave him the scare of a lifetime. He was breathing rapidly still not over the nausea that came over him from the site of all that blood on him. He tried to wipe away the blood off his face shield.
“Howard, are you okay?” George’s voice came through the walky-talky that was still in Howard’s hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” He replied into it.
Howard turned back to the man. He was lying on his back moaning in pain.
The whole scene is out of a horror movie, Howard thought, now that I see that man in full color.
The man’s eyes looked withered away. The tips of his fingers looked like they had been torn off his hands. Howard didn’t think that the man could see him.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Howard tried to say in a non-threatening tone.
“La la, ebe’ed A’ny,” the man said holding his hands in front of him in a futile attempt to keep a none existent foe away.
“I am not going to hurt you,” Howard said. “Who did this to you?”
“Ebe’ed A’ny, ebe’ed A’ny,” The man screamed hysterically.
“I think he’s talking in Arabic,” Howard said into his communication device. “Does any of you understand what he’s saying?”
“I know a little bit of Arabic, so repeat after me,” George said. “Ana moosh a’dewak.”
“Ana moosh a’dewak,” Howard repeated.
“You just told him I am not your enemy,” George explained.
“Ento A’wzeen tektolony,” the man said.
“He just said that we want to kill him,” George said over the walky-talky. “Okay Howard say, ehna a’wzeen nesa’dak.”
Howard repeated what George told him.
“Nas zayokom Amrican khataphony we a’maloo tagareb a’alaya.”
“What did he say?” Howard asked.
“He’s saying that people like us performed experiments on him,” George translated. “Howard, what’s he talking about? We’re not performing experiments on people are we?”
“No, we’re definitely not doing that,” Howard said shocked. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”
“Yes, pretty sure.”
“Tell me how to ask him, ‘where did you come from’?”
“Geet menain?” George said and Howard repeated after him.
“Men fok,” the man said. “Argok matektelneesh Argok.”
“He said, I came from above.”
“Is that all what he said?” Howard asked.
“No, he continued begging us not to kill him.”
“How do I tell him, ‘don’t be scared’.”
“Matkhafsh,” George said and again Howard repeated.
Suddenly the man went crazy. He started screaming and saying, “La la la.”
And George shouted through the walky-talky, “Howard get out of the way.”
Howard reacted swiftly. He threw himself to one side of the corridor seconds before he heard several consecutive gunshots from behind him. When he looked at the man, he was dead from the bullets that penetrated his chest and head. He looked at the source of the gunshots and saw a tall man in a black suit preparing to fire at him. Howard didn’t have time to think, he only had time to react. He threw the walky-talky, which weighed easily one kilogram, with all his might at the man with the gun. It hit him square in the head and the man shots missed its target.
Howard then charged the man knocking him down. Once the man fell under Howard’s weight, he lost his grip on the gun, which it rolled away. The scientist didn’t wait around, he ran like hell back towards the control room. The man in the black suit pulled himself together and reached for his gun, but by that time Howard disappeared around the corner.

Howard Gilden reached the control room and knocked on the door heavily.
“Open up,” he said.
By the time they opened he had taken off the bloodied contamination-suit he was wearing. George was the one who opened for him.
“Are you okay?” George asked. Howard entered quickly and they locked the door after him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Howard replied with a shaky voice. “But who the hell was that guy who shot at me.”
“There’s about a ton of unanswered questions going through my head right now,” George said. “Like who is the guy who got killed and why did he say that American people are performing experiments on him?”
“Howard,” another man said. “Is there something that you’re not telling us?”
“Like what?”
“Are there others who are taking our research and using human subjects for experimentation?” The same man continued. He sounded deeply concerned.
“If there is then I don’t know about it,” Howard answered in disbelieve. “You guys have known me for close to five years now, do you think I would do something like that? I risked my life to see if I can help that guy.”
“People,” George started. “Let’s stop trying to assign blame and let’s try to come up with a solution. Howard is right, none of us would be involved in such a human-less act. This probably goes beyond us.”
A man moved forward from among them and said, “You know I’ve always had my doubts about working for the government. Do you think that the government has something to do with this?”
“I wouldn’t be surprise,” George nodded. “Think about it. Why would the government move us here in Egypt?”
“Are you implying that they intended to use the Egyptian population as experimental rats?” Howard asked.
“They could.”
“I don’t believe this,” Howard said angrily. “But where? Where would they run these experiments? We know that they are some where in this complex.”
“The Egyptian man said that he came from above,” George pointed out. “So maybe there is another lab that we don’t know about some where in the levels above us.”
“I’ve lived here for a whole year and I thought I have been in every place in this complex,” Howard said.
“Well it’s clear that if there is another lab, then they succeeded in hiding it pretty good,” one of Howard’s staff said.
“If so we have to find it,” Howard said in determination. “I don’t think I can live with myself knowing that our research caused innocent people to suffer.”
“What do you plan to do?” George asked.
“As I said I plan to find this lab,” Howard said. “And I am going to destroy it and then I am going to quit.” A pause, “Do we have any guns here?”
One of the men opened the closet that had the contamination-suit and grabbed a pistol and an extra magazine from the shelf. He gave them to Howard and said, “That’s all we have. You have six bullets in the pistol and another six in the extra magazine. You know, we weren’t expecting to use it at all.”
“Do you know how to use a gun?” George asked.
“Yes,” Howard nodded. “In the mean time gather everybody and go to the storage facility on level eight. Get ready to leave this place once I join you there.” He secured the gun in his belt and put the extra magazine in his pocket.
Howard got ready to leave the control room, but George stopped him, “What about that guy who tried to shoot you? He is still out there.”
“You’re right,” Howard stopped in his tracks and turned to the technician sitting at the controls. “Do you see him any where?”
The technician flipped through all the views being electronically fed to the screen from the cameras on this level.
“No, I can’t see him any where. But we have to assume that he works for the government.”
“Well, if he works for the government,” George suddenly realized something. “Then that means the government is planning to get rid of us, or else why would he have shot at you?”
“That gives us even a stronger motive to get the hell out of here,” Howard said. “Let’s get going people,” he paused for a second and then turned and asked the technician, “But if you can’t see that guy on this level, where would he be?”
“Hold on a second while I check the rest of the levels.”
The technician looked at all the other views on the ten different screens, but found no trace of the man that shot at Howard. It was as if he vanished without a trace.
“I can’t find him anywhere,” the technician said puzzled. “I am pretty sure he didn’t get into any of the rooms since they are all locked and can’t be unlocked except from here.”
“Well we can’t hide here forever,” Howard said. “And I really want to find this other lab if it exists. I am going to go look for it and George, take charge down here. Gather everyone and be prepared to leave this place. Good luck everyone.”
He turned on his heals and left the room.

Howard walked through corridor ‘A’ heading towards the elevator located at its end. He tried to sound confident when he was talking to his colleagues back in the control room, but in reality confidence was not what he was feeling. He was terrified. He didn’t know what to expect when he went up there. Maybe this time more than one person would try to kill him and maybe they would succeed. However, the thought of participating in the murder of human beings in the name of science greatly disturbed him. Although some how deep down he knew that sooner or later this would happen, but he kept on denying it. He insisted that he was working towards achieving a noble purpose and indeed his research led to the discovery of several cures for genetically inherited diseases that for years eluded the greatest minds in medicine. Now, however, all these great and noble accomplishments didn’t hide the facts that his research also led to the murder of innocent human beings.
He reached the elevator and entered it. When he tried to press the seventh level button, he found that his hand was shaking uncontrollably. He made a fist with both his hands and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He then made sure that he had the gun and the extra magazine.
“Okay,” he told himself. “Be a man. You’ve got to do this.”
He breathed in deeply and exhaled loudly and then repeated again, “You’ve got to do this.”
Finally he reached for the button and pressed it. Immediately the elevator’s doors closed and he felt it moving upwards. He took out the pistol and rechecked his ammunition and then pointed it at the elevator’s closed doors in anticipation.
The elevator slowed down and then stopped. Seconds past like years for Howard until the doors opened. The corridor extended for twenty meters in front of him. It was empty. He stepped off the elevator carefully and started walking. He could hear his footsteps echoing through out the corridor and feared that he was not the only one who heard them. Everything seemed calm and undisturbed.
Where would the lab be? He thought to himself.
He quietly approached the corridor’s side-wall and knocked on it softly. It gave a solid sound. He continued walking and checking the walls every ten meters, until he reached the end of the corridor. He could turn left or right. It didn’t really matter since the seventh level was circular, either way he went he would eventually end up where he started. He turned right.
Suddenly, he imagined that he heard the sound of a baby crying. He stopped and listened, nothing.
“The tension must be getting to my head,” he whispered.
He knocked on the wall again, but it still gave a solid sound. He continued walking through the curved corridor. Again, he heard a faint crying sound. It sounded like it came from miles away. He stopped and listened again to make sure he wasn’t just imagining things. This time there was no question about it. The sound was coming from behind the wall on his left.
Howard secured the gun in his built and proceeded to feel the wall. It was a typical smooth, concrete wall like the rest of the walls in this complex. But finally that changed. He felt an edge running vertically through the wall and when he knocked on it past this edge, it gave a hollowed sound. The doorway he supposedly found was completely hidden. If somebody looked at it for hours they would still not be able to distinguish it from the rest of the wall.
“Bingo.”
This must be the door, but how could he open it? He pushed on several areas on its surface, but it didn’t budge. He felt for the edge again and passed his hand along it trying to find any buttons to push or anything that would open it.
He did not know what he did, but the door swung open revealing a dimly lit corridor. He stood there hesitant to go in. His heart raced and his fear was at its maximum. Where was his gun? His mind went blank. He apprehensively checked his pockets and his built until he encountered the familiar shape of the gun exactly where he secured it. He breathed out in relief.
He took out his gun and pointed it straight ahead as he walked in. Once he took several steps in the door closed after him. He snapped back in a sharp move that almost caused him to lose his balance. He just stood there looking at the closed door in shock. His fear paralyzed him. It took him several moments to overcome that fear and start walking again, heading deeper into this unknown part of the complex.
He could clearly hear moaning and crying now. These disturbing sounds stirred up a nauseating feeling in his stomach. But where were they coming from? He listened attentively for a minute until he was able to pinpoint the exact location. They were coming from behind a closed door on his left. He approached that door and turned its knob slightly to check if it was locked. It wasn’t. He opened the door and gave it a slight push. The sight, odor, sounds and smell that invaded his senses increased the nauseating feeling. His legs gave way and he fell on his knees. He held his breath in order not to throw up.
The door led into a huge hall. It was filled with people tied up to their beds. There were almost sixty individuals in that hall, men, women, kids and even babies. They all looked Egyptian. They were all in a condition like the man Howard encountered and even worse. The odor was that of rotting flesh. Some of these individuals looked dead, but others were barely alive and in great pain. The babies and even the men and women were crying and moaning. If that wasn’t a horror movie then it must had been the worst nightmare that Howard had ever had.
He couldn’t take it any longer. He shut the door and crouched, resting his back on the wall. He covered his face with his hands trying to push away what he had just seen from his memory, but he failed. Tears wet his face and he felt like he couldn’t handle the dilemma he was in. Finally he gathered every last ounce of strength he could muster and headed forward.
After he walked another twenty meters he found another door. But this time no moaning or crying sounds came from behind it. He approached it carefully and opened it. Again the door wasn’t locked. He swung it open and found an arsenal. It was another hall, but not as big as the one with the people. He walked in and closed the door behind him. There were six rows of cabinets containing all kinds of weapons, machine guns, pistols, hand grenades and many other types of explosives he didn’t recognize.
“What is this place?” He said in shock.
He walked around the room checking the different cabinets. Suddenly, the door to the room opened and a man walked in. Howard quickly hid behind one of the cabinets.
“Dr. Howard, I know you’re in here,” the man who just entered the room said.
His voice was familiar to Howard’s ears. It was Frank Holender, the government agent who recruited him to work for the United States government. The scientist sneaked a quick peak at Frank. He was holding a gun.
“What’s this place?” Howard shouted.
“That’s none of your business, Howard,” Frank said. “Why don’t you come out and I won’t hurt you.”
“Am I suppose to believe you?”
“You don’t have any choice.”
“You’re wrong.”
Howard couldn’t see Frank any longer. Their voices were echoing off the concrete walls of the hall that he couldn’t pinpoint Frank’s location. Abruptly, he felt the barrel of Frank’s gun being shoved at his back.
“Stand up very slowly and don’t make any sudden moves,” Frank said darkly.
Howard did as ordered, but hid his gun under his shirt so that the government agent wouldn’t see it.
“Are you going to kill me Frank?”
“You were never suppose to know about this place.”
“But now I do!”
“That’s too bad. You were a very smart scientist.”
“Were?” Howard asked. To his surprise he was able to suppress the terror he was feeling. His voice was calm and composed. “You need me to continue the research.”
“Not really,” Frank shrugged. “You see, you provided our real scientists with what they needed. They didn’t know what made the body tick, as you once put it. You provided them with this information and now they can continue the research that the government is spending millions of dollars on.”
“So you were planning to kill the rest of us from the beginning?” Howard was enraged.
“Not really. We were going to send you back to the US, but now we can’t since you know about what’s really going on in this complex.”
“But why Egypt? Why not Taiwan or Nigeria?” The scientist was trying to stall until he thought of some way out of this predicament.
“We were able to strike a deal with the Egyptian government. We provided them with weapons, fighter planes and the such and they in turn turned their back on what we’re doing here.” A pause. “Now you really know too much.”
“Well, I guess now the rest of my staff knows as well!” Howard lied.
“What?” Holender asked perplexed.
Howard used the second of confusion he caused and as quickly as he could move, he spun around holding his gun. Frank was an experienced officer though. He was under orders to keep this place a top secret and he would do anything to carry out his orders. Before Howard could bring his gun around, Frank shot him square in the chest. What the government agent didn’t expect was the last action that Howard did before his death. Involuntarily, Howard squeezed the trigger and a shot was fired from his gun, but it wasn’t aimed at Frank. It went wide and hit one of the many explosives in the room. Immediately an explosive chain reaction occurred.

The rest of Howard’s staff were on the eighth level, in the storage facility, when they heard and felt the explosion. The whole complex shook violently. The concrete cracked and huge slabs of it fell with frighteningly loud thuds on the ground. The men and women scrambled about trying to get out of harm’s way.
The complex continued shaking as more explosions seemed to tear at its heart.
*************

2. 2005: Mother…

Mary Manson moved around the house in a rush trying to get everything done before five o’clock. She still had to bake the cake, get the candles, tidy up the kitchen and the living room, and wrap the present. She wanted everything to be perfect before they came. After all it was her only son’s fifth birthday. She wanted it to be unparalleled.
She looked at her watch. It was three thirty already. In half an hour David, her husband, would pass by Samuel and pick him up from kindergarten. Then it would take them less than twenty minutes to reach home. Would that be enough time to finish everything? Well, it would have to be.
She went about finishing the tasks she had setup for herself.
This was the happiest time in her life. She had everything she had dreamt of, a wonderful husband, a son whom she loved more than her own life, a loving family and a beautiful house. What more could she possibly ask for? She thanked God every waking moment and always asked Him to keep them safe.

There was a time when her life had not always been that gratifying. Back at the time when she lived with her parents in North Vancouver, BC Canada, she could remember how her outlook on life was gloom and despondent. Six years ago she would have contemplated suicide. She grew up in a wealthy family. She had everything she wanted. She had the most extravagant dresses and she went to the best schools. She even had a BMW by sixteen. She had it all. In spite of all these possessions, she still did not feel fulfilled. She always felt unloved and lonely in her family.
Her mother was a strong-willed woman, always a leader. She was the kind of person who took command of a situation and always wanted to be in control, whether it is a conversation, a problem that needed to be resolved, a family picnic, even small matters like driving a car. Her opinion had to be the right one and affairs had to go her way. If she was not able to control the situation she put all her effort into ruining it. Not a very constructive way, Mary always thought. She always felt tied up by her mother. She didn’t have the freedom to formulate her own opinion. Hers had to match her mother’s or else there would be questions, accusations and arguments. She did anything to avoid that including agreeing with her mother on all and everything. That, however, had its side effects. Soon it became hard for her to discriminate whom she was agreeing with, whether it was her mother, father or friends.
Her father was a hot-tempered man. She often wondered how him and her mother ever got together. He also had to have his way on some occasions and that was the cause of numerous conflicts between both of her parents. She would not be able to sleep after each fight her parents used to have. The sound of their shouting would echo in her mind for days to come, the complaints, the swears. When she couldn’t take it any more she hid under her bed covers and cried her eyes out.
A time came when she couldn’t live in that tense and stressful atmosphere any longer. She decided to run from home. Where would she end up? She didn’t know, but anywhere would be preferable to the place she called home. One April night in 1980, when her parents weren’t home, she crammed as many clothing articles as she possibly could in her backpack and headed out.
Mary got in her expensive BMW and started driving with no particular destination in mind. Her only goal was to get as far away as possible. She intended to start a new life for herself. She had around eighteen thousand dollars in a saving bond under her name. Her parents put a thousand dollars there every year starting at her birth date. This was definitely enough to jump-start a new life for herself. She might have a problem trying to get an apartment since she was only eighteen, but her friends always told her she could pass as a twenty-one year old. However, she knew that this eighteen thousand dollars in her bank wouldn’t last her long. She needed to get a job to be able to support herself. A waitress in a restaurant would do. She had the looks to get her a job in a fancy restaurant that pays well. It might take her a while to get there, but at the end she would and she wouldn’t need to go back to her parents.
She continued driving.
What am I doing? She asked herself. Although she had a strong feeling at the bottom of her heart that was driving her away from home. Her mind was not in complete agreement with her emotions. You’re acting way too emotionally. You don’t know where you’re going to end up. Did you ever live on your own? Do you know how hard it is? Will you be able to survive? Are you going to be able to handle an empty place you will come home to every day from work, that is if you find a job? Don’t you think your parents are going to look for you? What if they find you, which they probably would, how would you explain yourself to them? You’ll be a fugitive. The police will be looking for you. Your picture is probably going to be in the newspaper. You won’t be able to show your face in public. What sort of life would you live then? Even if you were able to… Ah, what you’re doing is extremely stupid, Mary. You’re going to suffer from that stupid decision you took. Just go home before your parents wake up and act as if nothing happened.
Once the thought of going back popped in her mind, she felt extreme discomfort. She refused the idea with every emotion in her being. But some where in her mind she realized that going home was the only responsible and smart thing to do. Running away from her problems would never solve them. She knew that somehow they would surface again and haunt her. Whether this would be sooner or later she didn’t know, but she knew that it would eventually happen. How would she handle it next time? Was she just going to run away again? She always believed that running away was for cowards, so by definition she was a coward. She was not strong enough to stand firm and face her problems. She was not willing to change the circumstances and not let the circumstances change her.
“I am a coward,” she uttered audibly. Mary sounded defeated. A tear rolled down her cheek, then another and another. Soon she wasn’t able to control her tears. The feelings of defeat and hopelessness filled her heart. They were so strong that she could almost taste the bitter and repulsive fetor in her mouth. (look for a better expression)
Abruptly she realized that she was lost. She didn’t know what exit she took to end up on the highway she was driving on at almost a hundred and twenty kilometers an hour. She swore under her breath as she wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeves.
“I am such an idiot,” she blamed herself. “You never did anything smart in your life. Idiot.”
What am I going to do now? She continued thinking.
She looked at her rear view mirror and found there was no cars at a close proximity to hers.
First thing is first. I have to find out where I am. She thought.
She pulled over on the shoulder of the highway. Leaning over the driver seat, she opened the glove compartment and took out a map book. She flicked on a switch on the dashboard and her cars interior lights came on. While fumbling through the pages of the map book trying to find where she was, she didn’t notice the car that pulled up behind her. As she was busy trying to follow the street names, the driver of the other car got out and started walking towards the driver side of her car. He knocked on the driver side window shield. Mary was completely taken by surprise. Her body twitched in fear and the map book fell on the car floor between her legs. She looked at the man standing outside and she instantly had an uneasy feeling in her gut. She didn’t know why. The man was almost six feet tall. Strands of gray hair decorated his thick brown hair. He was wearing a nice silver three-piece suit, looking like he just came out of a party. He looked like he was about thirty-seven years old. In general the man looked decent, but still something about him didn’t make her feel comfortable now that he is this close to her car.
“Do you need some help?” The man asked.
She shook her head, but didn’t say a word.
“Roll down your window, so I can talk to you.”
Again, she shook her head.
Suddenly and without prior warning the man slammed the window shield with both his fists. The window shield immediately gave way under the strength of the blow and cracked. Another blow and the window shield practically exploded inwards. The man’s fists were bleeding. He reached in the car trying to grab for Mary. She backed away screaming hysterically. She tried to put the car in drive, but didn’t have time. The man made another attempt for her and this time he was successful. He undid her seatbelt and pulled her through the broken driver seat window. The remaining glass from the window shield tore at the flesh of her thighs. She fought him furiously, but the man was much stronger. He soon overpowered her and carried her to his car. She kicked and screamed and tried to claw at the man’s face. Suddenly, he dropped her after she caused a serious abrasion to his face. She tried to get up and run back to her car, but again didn’t have the time.
“You bitch,” the man shouted furiously and kicked her in the stomach with such force that she flew back and hit the bumper of his car. She collapsed to the floor, the breath knocked out of her. She couldn’t move. Her vision fogged up. The man hit her again and this time she fell unconscious.
She didn’t know how long she remained unconscious, but when she woke up she was lying on a hospital bed. She could feel bumps, nasty cuts and bruises all over her body. She sat up on the edge of her bed with difficulty. Extremely dizzy and disoriented, she felt the whole world spinning around her. Abruptly, she felt firm hands gently pushing her back on the bed.
“You’re a very lucky girl,” a comforting female voice said. Mary couldn’t make out the woman’s face.
“What happened to me?” Mary asked in confusion. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” the nurse said sorrowfully.
There was a period of silence as she tried to recall any past events that could have lead to her current predicament. And she remembered. As the memories of the terrifying experience invaded her mind, her whole body trembled in fear. The nurse put her hands on Mary’s shoulder to comfort her.
“It’s okay now. They arrested the man who did this to you. You’re safe here,” the nurse tried to sooth her.
“What did he do to me?” Her voice was drowned in fear. Tears were wetting her cheeks.
There was another long period of silence.
“Tell me,” Mary screamed hysterically.
“You were raped,” the nurse answered, not knowing how she could tell her the hard truth in a way that would make it easier for her to accept.
“No,” Mary continued screaming. “No, this can’t be. Can’t be.”
The shocked young lady twisted violently trying to get free from the nurse, while still screaming. Another two nurses came into her room and helped the first nurse to hold her down. Mary then felt the pinch of a needle and soon after her muscles started to relax and she fell asleep.
It took Mary a long time and a lot of therapy to accept and live with what happened to her. During this therapy, which was paid for by her parents, she met a young man who organized group gatherings where rape victims came to share their experiences. It turned out that his sister was a rape victim too and that’s why he got involved in helping others who suffered the same fate. They eventually fell in love, got married and had a baby (EXPAND ON THIS LATER ON, IN THE STORY, WHEN SHE MEETS UP WITH YOUSTINA). And here she was waiting for her husband David to bring their little five-year-old child from kindergarten to celebrate his birthday.

All these horrible experiences were now behind her and she tried hard to forget that they ever happened. Most of the time she was successful, but on occasions, maybe during a nightmare, they would force their way back into her memory. Every time she remembered them, she would thank God for all what she had now, her husband and her child.
She looked at her watch. It was four thirty in the evening.
Wow, an hour has already gone bye! She thought. They’ll be here at any moment.
Mary looked around the house. Everything was perfect. The dinner was ready, the cake baked, the decoration up, a big colorful sign that said “Happy Birthday Samuel” was up, just perfect. What was missing now was the birthday boy.
She was extremely excited. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on her son’s face when he walked in. He would be very happy to see that all this was done just for him. He was such a smart boy.
She looked at her watch again. It was five o’clock.
“Why haven’t they come yet?” She asked out loud. She was worried and disappointed at the same time.
As she was reaching for the phone to call David on his cellular phone, police sirens sounded from the distance. Her heart dropped. It almost seemed that it skipped a couple of beets. She shut her eyes tightly and hoped that the sirens would fade away, but they didn’t. They got louder and louder until they seemed to stop right in front of her house. She again hoped that she would hear no knocks on her door and again her heart dropped when anxious knocks sounded. She didn’t move, but the knocks seemed to become louder and more insistent.
Mary could hear the beet of her heart as she went to open the door. Her hands were shaking involuntarily. She couldn’t stop the stream of dreadful thoughts that crossed her mind.
Could it be about David?
Could it be about Samuel?
Was there an accident?
Anyone Dead?
How could she live without her husband or her child?
It seemed to take her an eternity to reach the door. She opened it and there stood an RCMP officer with a grim expression on his face.
The deliverer of awful news, she thought.
“Ma’am, please come with me,” the officer said. “Your husband is waiting for you at your son’s school.”
So it’s about Samuel.
Her heart skipped another two beets. Silent screams rocked her very being.
No, this can’t be happening to me.
Feelings of depression, feelings of fear, feelings of anxiety overwhelmed her. She felt her knees giving way under her. She had to lean on the door to prevent herself from falling down. The officer extended an arm to steady her.
“I am okay,” she waved his help off. She feared to break down and start weeping if she said anything more.
“Please, we must hurry,” the police officer said.
Without saying another word she went into the house, grabbed her keys and walked out locking the door behind her, trying to act as composed as she could under such circumstances. The officer walked along side of her and opened the passenger side door of his car for her to get in. She stood there for a second hesitant to get in, but finally she did.
The officer drove to Samuel’s school, which was about twenty minutes away, in utter silence. He didn’t try to tell her what happened, because he had a feeling that in her heart she already knew what happened. She was the kid’s mother after all. In any case, he wouldn’t know what to say to her. Nothing could be said. What happened at the school was a dark tragedy. No one could explain how it happened. Even the fire fighters weren’t able to stop the vicious flames in time. The officer tried to push the ugly images of burned bodies that he witnessed just two hours ago out of his mind, but he couldn’t (DON’T LIKE THE SENTENCE STRUCTURE).
Once the school came into view the breath caught in Mary’s chest. Her eyes widened and tears wet her face. Before the police car even came to a full stop, she opened the door and jumped out. She lost her balance and fell on all fours, scraping her palms and knees. But she didn’t even seem to notice. She scrambled up and started running towards the remnants of the school.
Coquitlum Elementary was completely burned down. Nothing was left standing except some concrete pillars, even these where badly damaged and were almost demolished by the fire. The smell of smoke mixed with the stench of burned flesh could be smelled blocks away. It hung in the air as a reminder of this unbelievable devastation. People were gathered around the site of the horrible accidents. Some where just staring in shock, others were crying and others were on their knees banging the ground with their fists.
Mary looked around desperately longing to see her son running around also looking for her. She looked harder; she screamed her son’s name, but nothing, no reply. The world spun around her and she fell on her knees weeping like she never had before.
“Mary,” she heard her husband’s voice.
She looked up and saw David running towards her. The ash hanging in the air blackened his face and his tears were rolling uncontrollably down his cheeks. She threw herself into his arms and started sobbing in anguish; he did no less. Their only son was gone forever, sweet Samuel. They would never see him again, never hug him, never hear his wonderful giggle or see his beautiful smile. They felt the stabs of pain and sadness pierce through their hearts. Long moments passed while they were drowned in their grief (BAD SENTENCE STRUCTURE). Their world seemed to come to an end. Nothing good would come.
“Everyone in the school was burned beyond recognition,” they heard an officer say.
“How the hell did that happened?” Another asked.
“We don’t know and it all happened in less than two hours,” both officer sounded extremely distressed and shaken by the recent events.
“Could it have been a bomb?”
“It must have been, or else how could so much damage be caused in such a short time.”
“The thing is that some eye witnesses said that all parts of the school seemed to burst into flames simultaneously.”
“The whole school?” The first officer said in shock. “How?”
“The strange thing is that no one else who was near the school got hurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am not sure. The people I talked to said that they didn’t feel the explosion. They didn’t feel the ground shake, nothing. The school just burned up.”
There was a period of silence, before a third man joined the conversation.
“We couldn’t find any trace of any sort of explosives,” the third man reported. “We searched through all the rubbles and we think that we have all the children and the teachers’ bodies accounted for. It’s a truly sad thing, what happened here,” he paused. “There are usually some survivors in such accidents, but not this time. Everyone is dead.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Then what happened? What caused the fire?” Their commander asked.
“Well the investigators say that the gas heat lines burst, but I don’t bye that,” the man thought for a second. “Everything seemed to catch on fire, nothing was saved. Even the building’s metal and concrete is damaged and melted. We estimate the fire was at least seven thousand degrees centigrade hot. My question is, how could it get that hot in such a short time? The fire fighters weren’t able to slow down the fire at all. There’s something I just don’t understand. What really happened?”
What really happened? The question hung in the air begging for an answer, but there was none. The question that would haunt David and Mary for the rest of their lives. What really happened? And why did it have to happen to their son?
*************
3. 2020: Killer…

The darkness enveloped a stretch of a forest located in the northern part of British Columnbia’s Rocky Mountains. This particular area was characterized by its thick underbrush, which prevented the moonlight from reaching and touching the ground with its soft and comfortable glow. The only sounds that could be heard was the rustle of the trees as a calm breath swept the lands. Even the birds and the animals that occupied the jungle were silent. The absolute silence sent a shiver of fear into the hearts of the three Special Forces men moving quietly across a mud pit, which was uncomfortably deep. In some areas the mud reached their hips, but most of the time it was at knee depth.
The infrared glasses positioned on their headsets transmitted to their eyes a view swept in green. Guns ready and alert the three men looked like a pack of hunters searching for their pray. The laser beams radiating from emitters attached to each of the soldiers’ guns crisscrossed as the men waved their guns from left to right in anticipation.
The view of the world around them transmitted via the infrared glasses was computer enhanced. Connected to a minute and advanced sensor, the view indicated the positions of any living and breathing being within a hundred yards by outlining the being’s figure in red. The small Artificial Intelligence units attached to each of their headsets were in constant communication. This activity allowed the computer to realize that there were only three of them. Any other unit or moving object sensed, would automatically be considered an enemy and indicated as so to the soldiers. It would then be up to the soldiers to take some offensive action to defend themselves.
The soldiers’ orders were clear, search and destroy. When they were first informed of exactly who or more accurately what they were after, they didn’t believe their superior officer. Even their superior officer didn’t seem to believe it himself. Apparently, US Army Spy Satellites spotted an unidentified being in this area of the Rocky Mountains. US intelligence had been tracking this being for several months. All attempts to communicate with it had been deemed a failure. They have sent it numerous warnings to identify itself, using different methods and techniques of communication, but they received no replies. As a final resort, they sent Harry, Anderson and Thomas, three of the best Special Forces men after it to hunt it down. The three soldiers were equipped with the most advanced weaponry available to the US army. This fact combined with their skill and the fact that they out numbered ‘It’ three to one gave them the advantage. Mission Specialists predicted seventy-eight percent success factor for the mission.
It hadn’t been easy getting till this God forsaken area of the forest. They weren’t able to just parachute in because of the thick underbrush. They had to hike and climb through more than twenty-nine kilometers of dangerous and thick forest. Several times they had to defend themselves against cougar and bear attacks. However, all the time they knew exactly where their prey was located. The US advanced spy satellites transmitted an updated location to a handheld device Harry, the mission commander, had. But now when they reached the location their computers indicated, they found no trace of their prey. It simply disappeared from their sensors. Their devices didn’t pick the presence of any living beings besides them. All the gadgets they were equipped with and none of them helped pinpoint its position.
Could the hunters have become the hunted? Harry thought as he looked at the palm sized monitoring device he held in his hand. A few minutes ago the yellow dot representing their target just vanished. Harry couldn’t understand how someone or something could just disappear from the spy satellites’ advanced sensors. If this thing could so easily elude the most advanced spying equipment in orbit, what more could it do? Were they going to stand a chance against it? They didn’t know what it looked like. They didn’t know what its intentions were. They simply didn’t know anything about it. On the other hand ‘It’ could be watching every move they were making, planing its next course of action, devising an efficient plan to attack and quickly kill them. It seemed to Harry that their seventy-eight percent success factor just took a steep dive to the worse.
Thomas moved closer to Harry.
“I don’t see anything!” Thomas whispered. “Are you sure this is the right location.”
Harry moved the device he had in his hand around and tapped a few buttons hoping that somehow it would pick their prey’s location once more, but it didn’t.
“This is the exact location. It just seems that this thing we’re after hid itself from our sensors.”
Anderson took a couple of steps towards the other two.
“How could that be?” Anderson asked. He sounded tense and agitated. “We’ve been tracking this thing for the past three months and not once did it disappear…not once. Why now?”
Harry shrugged without looking at Anderson. “I have no idea. Maybe it sensed our presence and hid itself.”
“Why do we keep referring to it as ‘It’?” Thomas said. “This thing could be an intelligent being.”
“I agree,” Harry nodded. “Judging from how it eluded us, I’d say it’s very intelligent.”
“With some very advanced equipment,” Thomas added. “To allow it to hide from our sensors.”
“Do you think it might be some sort of a…” Anderson paused not believing what he was about to say. “An alien?”
For the first time Harry looked at Anderson.
“Andy, Andy…” Harry smirked. “Have you been watching too many science fiction movies.”
Anderson shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“Yeah, you’re right… couldn’t be.” He said. “But what could it be?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said decisively. “But I intend to carry out our orders. Search and destroy.”
“Harry,” Thomas said. “We don’t have to carry out orders blindly. Maybe we should try to communicate with it.”
“Are you kidding?” Harry looked at him in disbelief. “We’ve been trying to communicate with it for the last three months and we received nothing. Do you seriously think we’ll be able to do what the experts weren’t able to do?”
“Maybe it didn’t understand or didn’t get our messages.”
“Listen,” Harry ordered. “I am the mission commander and I say we follow orders to the letter. We’re here to carry out specific orders not to debate them. Now, I expect your complete support and obedience, nothing less.”
“Yes sir,” Thomas whispered. He, however, had a feeling that something was completely wrong about this situation. Why would this thing, whatever it is, hide in the Rocky Mountains? It hasn’t harmed or caused any damage to anyone or anything. Why would the government be after it? Is there something they don’t know. There were a lot of unanswered questions, but Harry was right, they were in no situation to debate and discuss their orders. Their very existence could be at risk.
Harry took out a small device from his pocket and attached it to his headset. Once it was in place a small square transparent screen extended from the helmet in front of his left eye. A second passed and then an image of a colonel appeared on the screen.
“What’s new?” The colonel asked. Harry was the only one who could hear the colonel since his voice was being received through earphones in his headset.
“Sir,” Harry started. “We have lost our target. It just seemed to disappear from our sensors.”
“Copy that Harry,” The colonel nodded. “We have lost it from our sensors as well.”
“What are your orders, sir?”
“How long can you hold your position?”
“We can maintain our current status for four days.”
“Good. Keep looking for this thing. If you don’t find it before your four days are up, head back to the designated rendezvous point. We will keep you updated of any changes that we notice.”
“Yes sir.”
“And Harry, try not to use this channel for communication. Remember you’re in Canadian land, and the Canadian government doesn’t know that you’re there and we’d like to keep it that way.”
“Yes sir.”
The small screen retracted into Harry’s helmet.
“What’s our orders?” Anderson asked.
“We’re to keep looking for our target for as long as we can stay here without provisions, which I estimated to be four days.”
“Any plans on how we’re going to go about looking for it?” Thomas asked. He didn’t like the idea of hanging around here for four more days.
Suddenly, they sensed some movement to their left. Guns went up and were aimed towards the source of the motion in less than a blink of an eye, but seconds passed in silence and nothing further happened. Immediately the three soldiers formed a tight circle in anticipation of attacks from any direction.
Seconds passed in absolute silence. Each of the three soldiers grabbed his gun tightly, ready to fire it at any moving object. A terrifying high-pitched scream shattered the silence and then the attack came. It didn’t come from the north or the south it came from above. Something seemed to drop right in the midst of them. Harry and Anderson fell under its weight. None of the three were able to get a good look at it, for it moved at a blinding speed. The attacker lifted Harry up and spun him around knocking Anderson down, who was about to take aim and fire. Suddenly, Harry found himself being hurled helplessly into the air. Before he knew it, his motion was halted when he violently hit a tree trunk back first. He hit it with such force that his headset flew off and he lost his grip on his weapon..
Thomas brought up his weapon and fired, but completely missed his target. He turned around and fired hysterically in all direction, but still got nothing. Abruptly, he felt a sharp pain in his side and then he was dislodged from his position and thrown into the mud pit that they just crossed.
He was disoriented for a second as he sank into the mud pit, but that was only for a second. He regained his footing and jumped out of the pit, throwing himself on dry ground, weapon ready to fire at any unfriendly object, but there was no one there. Thomas looked around in disbelief. Where did they go? They couldn’t have just all disappeared in less than three seconds. He walked to Harry’s helmet, which was lying on the ground beside the tree that he hit after being thrown by the attacker. Thomas picked it up. There were traces of blood, but Harry himself was no where to be found.
Suddenly, it seemed to him that he saw a shadow moving swiftly through the thick bushes. Thomas didn’t think, he dropped the helmet and started running as fast as he could trying to follow that shadow. He jumped through the bushes, firing a head of him, not exactly sure what he was firing at. One second he was sprinting through the thick unfriendly forest and the other he was free falling. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t even see the trap. In a split of a second, he lost his balance and fell into some sort of hole in the ground. Thomas tried to reach for anything to grab, but his hands only touched a smooth surface. His mind automatically reached the conclusion that this shaft he was falling into was man made. There was no way he could halt his descent, nothing to grab onto, just smooth cold metal. The fall seemed to last for an eternity, then he hit solid ground and everything went black.
*************
4. 2020: Cairo, Egypt…

“This magazine is going to hell,” Hassan Fat’hy threw his arms in frustration. He was circling his office impatiently. “To hell I tell you… to hell.”
The magazine editor, Monir El-Alfy, sat on a couch facing Hassan’s desk. He looked as agitated and nervous as his boss. Mohammed started this magazine a year and a half ago. All types of media have traditionally been under the Egyptian government control. However, in the past decade this started to change. Privately funded media businesses were allowed to flourish, but unfortunately foreign companies owned all these new private media businesses. The intent was to attract foreign companies to start branches in Egypt and thus boosting the Egyptian economy. The results of this plan appeared encouraging within the first three years of its implementation. The negative impacts, however, were less noticeable. Some Egyptians in the media business felt betrayed by their own country. Certain privileges were given to foreign investors while these same benefits were denied to starting Egyptian companies. Only a few native companies were able to successfully start up, although, they encountered heavy competition from the other foreign well established companies, especially American corporations. They seemed intent in controlling the market and in the same time spreading the western culture. Many of the Egyptian corporations weren’t able to compete and had to declare bankruptcy. Only a few were left, including ‘The Egyptian Reach Magazine’, owned by Hassan Fat’hy.
“I’ve worked extremely long and hard to get this company up an running and I am not willing to give up without a fight.” Hassan said.

3. Mission…

“Hurry up, Mira.” Galal Nabil begs his sister. He is making the final preparations to what seems to be a relatively long journey. It appears to be an out of town trip. He knows that Mira never left Egypt before. She was born here and she has been living here ever since. He, however, on the account of his work, has traveled around quite a bit. The main reason she never left Egypt is because of the money or more accurately lack thereof. Their family is not rich, and traveling in Egypt requires a lot of money. Nowadays, everything is becoming too expensive. The prices are going up and the wages are staying the same, an ugly combination. This is one of the reasons that made Mira take medicine; it pays better than any other profession. Besides that, she enjoys helping people. Since she was very young, she was the doctor in her family. If her brother cut himself she would be the first one to take care of his wounds. If one of her parents were sick, she would be beside them taking care of them all the time. So medicine was a natural transition for her.
“I can’t believe I am going with you Galal.” Mira replies from inside the washroom.
“Trust me, you’re very beautiful.” Galal says a bit frustrated. “Now, can you quit looking in the mirror and let’s go already.”
“You can’t imagine how much your opinion means to me.” She says sarcastically.
“Oh, and I suppose Hany’s opinion means more.” Galal replies in equal sarcasm and then proceeds to make fun of Hany. “Oh Mira, you look lovely today. I love you so, so much…” Galal then starts kissing the air passionately and loudly trying to intimidate his sister.
She finally opens the door slightly and sticks her head outside just in time to catch a quick glimpse of Galal’s pathetic love seen.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” She says shaking her head, “and you call yourself an adult!”
“Well, if you don’t hurry up,” Galal starts. “I’ll be an adult who’s ashamed of himself and who has four-thousand pounds less in the bank.”
Finally Mira comes out.
“Fine, quit your whining.” She says as she straightens out her blouse. “Okay, lets go.”
“Finally.” Galal throws his arms in fake exasperation.
“Galal, Galal, Galal. What am I going to do with you?”
“Well, you can start by going with me to this destined to be the best vacation of our lives.”
Galal carries the two big bags alone in despite of Mira’s repeated offers to help him. Both proceed out of the apartment and down the stairs where a taxi is waiting outside the apartment building to give them a lift to Cairo’s airport. He puts the bags in the trunk of the taxi and gets in after Mira. The taxi starts its way through the narrow and crowded streets of Galal and Mira’s neighborhood. The driver is constantly honking at pedestrians to get out of his way. The pedestrians are walking all over the street and for a good reason. The sidewalk is so narrow that two people can not walk side by side. The slow ride plus the rocking of the car as it trudges through the unpaved roads make the trip to the airport seem long, tedious and tiring.
The car takes a left turn, then a right and finally it is out on the main street. The rocking stops, but it is a typical summer evening, hot and humid, and the crowded streets do not help to ease the warmth of the day. The sweat drips from every pore in their bodies in an unsuccessful attempt to cool them off. Even with all the car’s windows wide open there still isn’t enough air rushing in to evaporate Galal and his sister’s sweat and give them a momentary sense of coolness.
Mira just graduated at the young age of twenty-five from the school of medicine. Book warm, is what her friends jokingly call her. True, she is a hard working young lady, but she also knows how to fully enjoy her life. She is not only very smart; she has one of the most beautiful faces any one has seen. With her green eyes and dirty blond hair, along with an evenly tanned skin and a five feet eleven inches, extremely well shaped very female body, she is the main attraction anywhere she goes. Many of her friends envy her looks, but this envy never turns into hatred as it sometimes does. No one is able to dislike Mira. She has such an attractive personality that anyone who gets to know her falls in love with her. She knows that she has this almost magical power over people, but she never misuses it.
Galal can’t believe it. Mira is already engaged. Not too long ago, he remembers her as the little sister that used to bug him and jump on him all the time. He can’t believe how fast time passes. He knows that he will miss her like he never has before. True, they aren’t living in the same house anymore, but when she gets married she will get busy with her husband. Soon after, there will be kids and then he won’t see her except by appointment. Right now, he can’t imagine that. He is used to seeing her at least four or five times every week. After she is married that won’t be possible any more. And that’s why he is taking her on this trip. He wants to spend time with her. Just the two of them. He spent over six thousand pounds on this trip. He doesn’t worry too much about the money, however. After each mission he completes successfully there is usually a very generous reward in store for him. He believes that this is the best way to use this money. Quality time with his sister. Nothing can be better than that.
Galal is so enveloped in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Mira staring at him for the past fifteen minutes. She knows exactly what he is feeling. And she realizes that if the situation is reversed she will be going through exactly the same thing. But she loves Hany. She knew him since she started her university six years ago. They were good friends at the beginning, but soon this friendship developed into something more. It is such a wonderful feeling she is experiencing. She has never experienced anything like it before.
Love.
It isn’t the same love that she feels towards Galal or her parents. It is different. It is wonderful. It is more than wonderful. Words can’t begin to describe how she is feeling. She was attracted to men before. On occasions she even thought that she was in love, but when the real thing hit, it was like nothing she has ever felt before.
Not everything is dream perfect though. She loves her brother very much that the thought of not seeing him as often pains her. But again this is life.
She leans closer to him and whispers; “I’ll miss you too.”
He turns his face and looks at her and to her surprise a tear shining under the sun’s light slowly and silently leaves its sheltered home, to live on its short life in the harsh atmosphere of the unforgiving world.
She lovingly wipes it away from his cheek and whispers, “Galal I love you and I’ll always love you till the end of my life. Now, I want you to show me the best time on this trip.” She pauses. “By the way what’s the name of that place we’re going to?”
Galal smiles, “You were never good with names. It’s called British Columbia. A province in Canada.”
“Cool.” She replies. “Is it a nice place?”
“It’s a wonderful place. I never went there before, but I dug around and I am pretty sure it is a beautiful place.”
“I trust you.”


“I really wish that Galal could have went with you.” Colonel Fareed tells Nagwa Gergis. Both were sitting in the colonel’s huge office.
Nagwa smiles politely and replies, “Yes, I wish that too. But I think I can handle it on my own.”
“Of course, I am sure of it.” Colonel Fareed says. “If I had any doubts I wouldn’t have asked you to take this mission. After your round with the extremists a couple of months ago you have proven yourself quite strongly. But I also believe that you and Galal make an excellent team.”
As Colonel Fareed mentions the extremists, Nagwa’s mind takes her back to that time. It was an awful time for her and Galal, especially for Galal. She got off easily. He was the one who was imprisoned for close to a week, tortured and beaten. This was their first true mission together. Before she knew him just as another Egyptian secret service officer. She saw him from time to time in the corridor, maybe exchanged greetings, nothing more. But when they worked together in that last mission she really got to know him on a personal level. She realized how brave he is and how honest he is and how loyal he is. To tell the truth, she was proud to serve beside him. Just one thing about him that really ticks her off.
“Sir, he is very secretive.” She says, her tone reflecting the annoyance she is feeling towards that subject. “And I think if we’re going to be partners he should tell me everything.”
“But I thought you two hit it off after you saved his life.” Fareed inquires.
“Yeah well, for a little bit afterwards. Then after a couple of routine missions he forgot all about his promise and my favor.”
“Really Nagwa, I have known Galal for a long time and not only as his superior officer, but as his friend.” Colonel Fareed tries to defend Galal. “And he is not the type that forgets favors. He is a very sensitive guy and I think you’re being a little too harsh on him.”
“In my opinion, partners should understand each other very well, especially in our line of work.” Nagwa starts. “And in order to reach this level of understanding we have to be completely open with each other.”
“I agree,” Fareed nodes his head in approval. “But in my opinion, as your superior officer, I think you two make a powerful team, even if you don’t see it. And I am planning to keep you together.”
Nagwa can sense the finality in Colonel Fareed’s voice and she knows not to pursue this line of conversation any longer. Personally, she doesn’t believe that Fareed is right. After all, who knows her better than herself? And judging from their characters, Galal’s and hers, they can never be partners or friends. He even left to Canada without telling her. At least after she saved his life he should let her in on this stuff.
What? She thinks to herself. Why should he tell you anything? You’re not his family and you haven’t known him long enough to be his friend. Why do you expect him to tell you about his personal life? Nagwa, try to be professional and don’t let anything or any feelings get in the way of this professionalism.
“Okay, now to your mission briefing.” Fareed says and then he continues in a barely audible whisper as if to himself, “if you can call it that.”
The colonel turns on the screen embedded in the wall behind him after dimming the lights. A short, poorly tapped movie starts playing. It shows five rescue officers recovering three soldiers from the edge of a forest. Two of the soldiers were dead. They apparently died in a vicious fight, for deep ugly slashes scarred their torsos. It seems like they had an unexpected and deadly encounter with a wild animal. Five parallel slashes on the bodies of the two soldiers appear to be caused by sharp, strong claws belonging to a bear, which that forest in Alaska is known for. However, one thing is wrong with the scene. There are no bite marks. If a bear was what attacked the poor soldiers it would have bit them.
“Sir, would you mind explaining what we’re watching.” Nagwa requests. “It is not really pretty.”
Colonel Fareed stops the tape and turns the lights back up. He spins in his chair to face Nagwa.
“You see,” He starts. “From the first time this looks pretty normal. Two American soldiers training in the Alaskan forest attacked by a wild animal and killed, but what is really interesting is that the third one was not even touched. He was found in a very bad mental state, but physically he was not harmed, except for a few bruises.”
“Why are we, in Egypt, worried about what happens in America?” Nagwa asks. “We never took a great deal of interest in their internal affairs.”
“And we still don’t. It is just that our sources over there, who brought us this tape, say that they are maintaining a complete blackout of information about the events that took place in the Alaskan forests.” Fareed explains.
“What is wrong with that?” Nagwa asks. “It is their right to do whatever they want.”
“Well, as long as it doesn’t affect other nations.” Fareed points out.
“So you’re thinking that whatever happened over there is going to affect us all the way over here?”
“We don’t know.” Colonel Fareed shrugs. “All what we know is what you saw on that tape. And this is why we’re sending you over there, to collect more information. Now, you’re not to get involved in anything. Your job is to report everything to me and await further instructions. If it is something big then it is going to be handled politically.”
Nagwa doesn’t like working under this kind of restrictions, but she can do nothing. She feels that her orders do not serve any purpose but to compromise her mission, for many good ideas come to her, but she doesn’t carry them out because of her orders… some orders! Maybe these orders aren’t her favorite speeches to listen to, but she doesn’t dare go against them or else…
“Do you have any leads for me?” She asks
“Nothing,” the colonel smiles an apologetic smile. “As I said, all what we know is on this tape.”
“Can’t you tell me who gave us the tape so I can start by talking to them?”
“That’s classified.”
She stares at the colonel incredulously. Classified? She is going to put herself in unknown danger and they don’t want to give her any leads. Fareed apparently figures out what she is thinking. In part because he felt exactly the same way when he was first told the same information from his superiors.
“I know what you’re thinking Nagwa,” he says. “But it’s out of my hands. I am under direct orders not to reveal the identity of our agents. All I can tell you is that we have spies in high places in America and I mean high places. And even though they are powerful they still were not able to get any more details about the subject. All they could get their hands on was this tape and that was extremely difficult. One of our most important agents almost got arrested if it wasn’t for his fast thinking.”
“I guess I understand. If you tell me about our sources, I might be the one who blows their cover.” She tries to put some reason to this otherwise absurd situation, mainly because she needs to feel she is being treated second hand for a good reason.
“It’s good that one of us understands.” The colonel mutters under his breath. “Well then,” he continues, “here is your ticket and all the expenses will be covered for you. You’re going to be taking off in two days. This gives you more time to familiarize yourself with the town you’re going to in Alaska. It is really a rather small place. We’re also going to have a couple more mission briefings before you go. ”
“Great,” Nagwa gets up and shakes his hand firmly.
Nagwa has always impressed Colonel Fareed from the first time he met her three years ago. Her confident and calm attitude has quickly gained her his respect and the respect of her fellow officers, especially in this male dominated profession. She is no less than any of her male colleagues. In fact she excels over some of them. She knows her abilities quite well and she realizes the advantages that these give her, but she never uses her strengths to gloat. More often than not she denies these abilities when she is praised on a good job she has done, mainly because this appraisal triggers an uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment. In her eyes she can always do the job better.
“At least you know where to start.” The colonel says.
“Yeah, it is only out of their generosity that they told me that.” She says. “Well any way, wish me luck.”
“Best of luck.”
As Nagwa turns and leaves the office, Colonel Fareed follows her with his eyes. She moves with such ease, that it looks more like she is floating, not quite touching the ground. He admires this person very much. Yes, he is quite sure that Nagwa is the best he has. He knows that she will do everything she can to figure out what happened. One thing that scares him, however, is that maybe her best isn’t enough.


Tomorrow is the big day. Nagwa thinks as she prepares her suitcase. She has never been to Alaska before. She has been to other places in the United States, but not to Alaska. Over the past day she had two other meetings with Colonel Fareed and another mission specialist. They told her about the town she will start her investigation in. Gordon, a rather small town near the Alaskan wilderness and Romanzof Mountains, has a population of only three thousand souls. Besides familiarizing her with the place, they watched the tape of the soldiers being recovered at least fifty times analyzing every single second of it. They, or rather the mission specialist, was able to identify exactly where the soldiers were recovered. With the aid of detailed maps and photographs of the area he showed Nagwa exactly where the events occurred.
“This information is at least two weeks old.” The mission specialist had told Nagwa. “So don’t be surprised if you find that things have slightly changed.”
This is another thing that Nagwa doesn’t like. Working with less than current facts. From her experience, facts tend to change drastically every day, heck every minute when it comes to top secret stuff like what she is about to get involved in. Although, she is still not completely convinced that this is a valid mission. How could whatever happened in Alaska affect them here in Egypt?
Someone knocks on her door. Nagwa doesn’t have to look behind her to figure out who it is.
“It’s open mom.” She says.
Her mother enters the room and approaches her daughter. Nagwa could here the soft footfalls behind her.
“So you’re still going?” Her mother asks. She already knows the answer. The same answer she always hears from her lovely young daughter. She wishes that Nagwa would tell her exactly where she is going, but she never does that. She always leaves her mother’s heart wondering whether she’ll ever see her again. The mother never expresses those fears to her daughter however. She always tries to be supportive. She knows quite well that Nagwa doesn’t need to carry her worries along on one of these missions.
“Yes, I have to.” Nagwa replies, “but I’ll be back soon. I always do.”
“How long are you gone for?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll keep in touch.”
“Should I prepare lunch for you?” Nagwa’s mother is trying as hard as possible to keep the tone of her voice neutral and not allow all the concern she is feeling at the moment to seep out. “You haven’t eaten anything since the morning.”
“Actually, I’ll be having lunch with a bunch of my friends.” Nagwa informs her mother. She is fully aware of her mother’s feelings. They don’t have to talk about it. This is the way things are done in their house. Feelings are not discussed openly, most of the time anyway. Nagwa has learnt that since she was a baby. She keeps that attitude with her family and with her friends. As much as she doesn’t talk about her personal feelings, however, she is always willing to listen to other people’s problems and offer solutions.
“So what time are you going to be back?”
“From lunch, not too late.”
“Nagwa, do you really have to go?” Nagwa’s mother says and her daughter senses the desperation in her voice.
Nagwa sits on the edge of the bed and on her face is an expression of surprise. Her mother never acted like that before. She must be worried more than usual, but why? This mission appears to be routine, so there is nothing to worry about. A reconnaissance mission, nothing more. Just go collect some information and come. She has even been instructed not to take any unnecessary risks. Of course her mother has no way of knowing that.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
Her mother shakes her head in confusion. She herself doesn’t know why she is distressed more than usual. “I don’t know, sweetie. It’ll just make me feel better if you don’t go.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Nagwa sounds apologetic. “It’s my job. You know how hard I worked to advance in my job, I can’t just not go!”
“I don’t understand why you had to get into this line of work. It is too dangerous and I really think you should resign.” Nagwa’s mother is beginning to experience some panic.
Nagwa on her part keeps calm, although her mother’s attitude really puzzles her. Finally, she gets up and hugs her. When she does, she feels that every muscle in her mother’s body is tense.
“Mom, it is going to be alright.” Nagwa says slowly and gently. “I am going to be just fine. Just you pray for me.”
They pull away from each other and her mother wipes away a tear that she couldn’t keep from crying out.
“I always do.”
“That’s all I need.”
Her mother sits on the bed watching her daughter pack, neatly folding her cloths in her suitcase. It takes her a while until she is able to bring those flowing negative emotions under control. She should think positive thoughts and support her daughter, not act like she will never see her again.
“How come you never tell me anything?” Nagwa’s mother asks. “About your missions I mean.”
“Orders my dear mother.” Nagwa replies. “I can’t go against orders. This is something secret service officers get used to… orders. Most of them don’t make sense, but you gotta follow them anyway.”
“I don’t mean to be pushy, but why did you chose police work?”
“You know why.”
“I never understood. What happened to your father and your brother was their fate, you could’ve done nothing to prevent it. You were only eight.”
Nagwa suddenly stops folding her clothes as an ugly memory she has been trying to suppress for as long as it existed, forces its way back into her consciousness. Immediately Nagwa’s mother notices the sudden change that came over her daughter. Nagwa’s expression changes from calmness to irritation and sadness. Every inch in her body stiffens and a tear is formed, but never allowed to leave her eyes because she simply doesn’t cry. Not since what happened to her father and her only brother. All doctors said she eventually will forget, but the images never left her memory. Nineteen seventy-six was truly the darkest year in her life.
“Oh God,” Nagwa’s mother gasps in self-reproach as she realizes the horrible feeling that she just caused her daughter. “I am really sorry, Nagwa. I didn’t mean…” She can’t continue. There is nothing she can say to cure the pain that Nagwa is feeling.
As fast as Nagwa’s expression changed it changes back. The tear in the making seems to disappear as it is absorbed back by her eyes. A smile slowly materializes on her beautiful lips.
“It’s okay, mom. I have settled my feelings about that subject long time ago.” Nagwa tries to sound as convincing as possible. She fails.
“You know, you can talk to me about anything.” The mother says trying to encourage her daughter to share her feelings.
“It’s okay. This really isn’t necessary.” Nagwa replies sharply then realizes her mistake and continues quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I am really sorry.”
Her mother waves it off. She knows her daughter is more like her father than like her. She never accepts the situation as is. She always seeks to understand why things happen and if possible, change the circumstances, but in this case what happened was and still is out of her hands.
Nagwa finishes packing her suitcase and sets it aside. It is three thirty in the afternoon. Her friends are going to be waiting for her in another hour. They agreed to meet in a restaurant, which is within walking distance from her apartment. It is part of her tradition; to have lunch with her friends the day before she goes off on a mission. She considers that her good-luck charm. The other part of her tradition is to go out with her mother. She already did that. They spent the whole morning together. They walked along the beautiful Nile River and they talked. Nagwa always tries to enjoy every minute she spends with her family and friends, because long ago she realized how precious and volatile time is. Once a minute is gone, you can never bring it back.
Slowly a memory unfolds. One of the many she is constantly trying to forget without any success. They have been engraved in her mind forever.

“Nagwa, let’s go honey, we’re late.” Nagwa’s Dad said.
The eight-year-old Nagwa quickly ran to her room and hid.
“No, I don’t want to.” Nagwa whined. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“You don’t want to spend some time with your father and brother.” Her dad tried to sound sad. “You know we’re not going to be with you forever!”
“Daaaad, I hate it when you talk like that.” Nagwa came out of her room; her hair all messed up, wearing shorts and a T-shirt that were obviously too big for her, her brother’s clothes.
“Hey, why are you wearing my clothes?” Sameh, her brother, asked annoyed.
“I wear what I want.” She shot back.
“Oh no you don’t, not when it’s my clothes!” Sameh replied. “I am older and bigger and can beat you up.”
“Hey, hey, cool it down.” The father interrupted.
It was as if neither of them heard him.
“Oh yeah, well make me.” Nagwa challenged her brother.
Sameh took a step towards her ready for an easy quarrel, but his father grabbed him just in time to prevent him from squashing his younger and smaller sister.
“You do that and I’ll tell Dad what you do behind closed doors!” She said threateningly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Sameh seemed to weigh the facts in his head and finally replied, “Fine you win.”
Nagwa suddenly felt very satisfied and suddenly became in a good mood. On the other hand her father frowned at the short conversation he just heard, but decided not to think about it at the moment.
“So, are you going to come fishing with us or not?” The father asked.
“Okay.”
Now that she defeated her brother she wouldn’t just pass up the chance to rub it in some more.
“Too bad there is no sharks in the Nile.” Sameh muttered under his breath.
“What did you say?” She tilted her head towards him as if challenging him to say it again. “I couldn’t hear you very well.”
“Oh nothing.” He replied and smiled a fake smile.
That day they spent the whole evening fishing. It was the greatest time Nagwa had ever had. She couldn’t imagine she was about to pass up such a chance. They joked and laughed together. Her dad was the funniest man she knew and her brother took after him. Both Nagwa and Sameh seemed to forget all about the argument they had earlier. After all they were just kids. She was eight and Sameh was ten. As much as they used to fight, they used to always cover up for each other.
While Nagwa got in one of her famous discussions with her father Sameh wondered off. The small park along side the Nile was relatively empty. There were a couple of men playing soccer near by, so Sameh went and joined them. They played on for a while and then one of them asked the boy if he wanted some ice cream. It was a welcomed idea in that hot day. He told Sameh that there was a shop just a few blocks away and invited him to go with them. Sameh hesitated for a minute, but looked back and found that his dad and his sister were still talking and he decided to go along with the men.
I must be such a charming chap, Sameh thought to himself. Everyone wants to be my friend.
“Sameh come back here.” His father called out loud, a touch of anger burning at the edge of his voice.
To be honest a chill went down Sameh’s spine when he heard his father. He instantly realized that he did something terribly wrong. That night he had a long lecture from his father about not talking to strangers.
“Dad, I am older now. I can handle myself.”
The father got angry for he felt that he had been having a conversation with one of the walls all that time. Finally, he said harshly, “Well I am your father and you’ll do exactly as I tell you and if you don’t you know what’ll happen to you. Now go to your room.”
Sameh stood up, or more accurately, flung himself up angrily and stumped to his room. At night Nagwa went to Sameh’s room and they played cards till the next morning.

Nagwa walks through the narrow streets of her neighborhood. Cars are parked on both sides of the road leaving barley a space for one car to pass through. And if two cars are coming, each from the opposite direction, one has to make way for the other, but which one? That is the question. This predicament seems only to be resolved by which driver has more patience and which one has the loudest horn.
Nagwa is so enveloped in her thoughts that she doesn’t even remember leaving her house. The first recollection she has of the outside world is the young boy shouting her name. She looks up and for a second she thinks that she sees Sameh, but soon that cloud of memories dissipates and her mind is clear again.
“Hi Marko.” She says to the young boy.
“Hi Miss Nagwa. How is it going?”
Marko Eleya an eleven-year-old kid, one of the fourteen kids Nagwa teaches in Sunday school. It’s true that he is one of many, but he has won a special place in her heart. She is not quite sure why she loves him so much. Of course she loves the rest of her class dearly, but Marko is an exception, maybe because of the cute way he walks, or maybe it is his peaceful smile. Maybe it is his innocent face or it could just be because he looks so much like her brother Sameh. She simply can’t put her finger on it.
“I am fine. How about yourself?” Nagwa replies her face brightening up.
“Okay, I guess. I just have a lot of homework.”
She smiles remembering how school used to be for her. In Egypt the education is very intensive. The amount of information they teach the kids is enormous so it requires a lot of hard work on the part of the student, which from her opinion is good. They prepare the students for the real life. In real life everything requires hard work.
“Yeah, I know the feeling.” She says.
“So are you going to teach us in Sunday school tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so.” She replies apologetically. “I am going to be away for a few days.”
“Oh, does that mean you’re not going to Alexandria with us?” The boy is clearly disappointed. He really likes Nagwa. She is not like the other Sunday school teachers, but more like his older sister.
“I am sorry, Marko. But it came up suddenly.” She says. “I’ll make it up to you guys though. I promise and you know me I never forget a promise.”
“How am I going to feel safe while swimming without you around?” Marko shakes his head.
“Ooh, I almost forgot about that!” Nagwa laughs. “Man, you gave me a big scare back then!”
“Well, how was I suppose to know that the water gets so deep all of a sudden. I am not a psychic.” He defends himself.
“Oh come on Marko,” Nagwa teases him. “They had that big red sign saying ‘Deep waters’. And beside that, you don’t have a gold medal in swimming so what were you doing so far in?”
“A man has to impress his friends.”
“Oh come on, but seriously this time don’t go in the water without the supervision of an adult. I don’t want to worry about traveling and you in the same time. You understand.” She tries to sound serious.
“Okay, I just can’t forget how you saved me.” Marko’s young, energetic eyes drift off to no where as he remembers some events. It was the scariest fifteen seconds in his life, but Nagwa was his guardian angel. “You were so fast, Miss Nagwa. In a couple of seconds you were there beside me, pulling me out of the water. I was so lucky you were there.” He pauses. “I really, really, really want you to be there.”
“And I really, really, really want to go.” Nagwa smiles. “But work is work my dear boy.”
“Is it work? Or you just got bored of us.” Marko is such a good actor. He almost convinces Nagwa that he is about to cry.
“Oh bravo.” She claps. “But you don’t fool me!”
“It was worth a try!”
“Honestly, if I have any choice I would go with you guys. We’re best friends, you and I. I always want to be with you and I’ll always be there for you when you need me. It’s just work.” Nagwa raps her arm around Marko’s shoulders and gives him a gentle squeeze.
The boy smiles, “Yeah I know. Anyway, I’ve got to go buy some groceries for my dad. Take care of yourself Miss and God be with you.”
“God bless you too.”
Nagwa pats the kid on the back before he bounces off to one of the stores that fill the street. It takes her a couple of minutes more until she reaches the restaurant where her friends are waiting. There are two of them.


It is the beginning of September. At this time of year Egypt enjoys a soothing warm weather. Its location along the equator allows that; therefore, Galal and Mira are taken by surprise when they step out of Vancouver’s airport. A chilly gust of wind greets the two new comers before they can take more than two steps on the land of Canada. It makes a cool and uncomfortable shiver sweep through their bodies, a feeling that is alien to them.
“I thought you said it is summer now.” Mira says hugging herself in a try to restore some of her warmth that was absorbed by the cool air hitting her.
“It is,” Galal confirms. “You just haven’t seen their winter yet!”
“In Egypt this would be considered winter!” His sister looks up at the sky trying to see the source of the dim light. She can’t. The clouds do a thorough job in hiding the heat-giving rays of the sun and their dark colors seem to warn of an incoming mighty storm… or at least that is what Mira is thinking.
“What time is it?” She asks her brother who is trying to find a taxi to take them to the Executive Inn hotel in Richmond.
He takes a quick glance at his watch, which he already set to the new time zone.
“Well, Vancouver is ten hours a head of us so that should make it one pm.” He starts to get frustrated because no taxi wants to stop for them. “Damn, in Egypt a million taxis would have stopped for us by now.”
“Allow me,” Mira says waving him off.
She just raises her hand and takes a provocative pose. Suddenly a taxi comes to a complete halt in front of her. Her brother shakes his head in bewilderment and mutters under his breath, “Sometimes it helps to be a woman.”
He carries the bags and puts them in the trunk of the car as Mira gets in the back seat. It’s all so different to her. The first thing that strikes her as new as soon as she steps outside the airport is the color yellow in contrast to Egypt’s black and white codes. The lines dividing the lanes are yellow where it would be white in her country and the weird thing she notices is that the edge of the curb is not colored black and white.
Hmmm, interesting. She thinks.
Galal gets in and instructs the driver, in perfect English, to head to the Executive Inn hotel. The car starts moving and Mira’s astonishment and curiosity increases. The roads are as wide as the highways that she is used to and the thing even more amazing than that is how clean they are. She can not see a single spec of dirt on the streets no matter how hard she tries.
“Wow, Galal this amazing.” She says almost out of breath. “This is beautiful. It’s so perfect.”
Galal smiles, “Yup, I felt the same way when I first traveled outside Egypt. These countries are really clean and organized, but they definitely are not perfect.”
Mira is finally able to tear her eyes from the view outside and look at her brother.
“What do you mean?” She asks.
“Well I lived in a place like this for quite a while during one of my missions and by the time I finished I wanted to go back to Egypt so bad it hurt.” He explains. “The culture here is so radically different than ours that for people who come here as adults it is almost impossible to get used to.”
Mira looks outside the window once more, but this time she isn’t looking at the beautiful scenes that she has never seen like except in the movies, she is looking at the people walking and at the people in the cars driving at the same speed along side of them.
“This is strange,” she says without looking at her brother. “There are so many different races. Orientals… Indians… How could people from so many different backgrounds get along so well?”
“They do because they live in the same city and they have to learn to get along with each other, but what I noticed in my brief stays in North America is that same cultures tend to stay together. Their kids don’t have this tendency because they grew up here.”
“This is so different.” Mira says shaking her head. “In Egypt there is just Egyptians. Here… well, look.” She made a gesture with her hand, meaning to point at everyone outside the car.
“Don’t worry,” Galal replied, tapping Mira on the shoulder. “We’re just here for a couple of months, so you don’t have to worry about adapting.”
There is a period of silence.
“Although, you’ll find striking similarities between some aspects of life here and life in Egypt.” Galal says.
“How is that?”
“Well, some people in Egypt, usually the very high class, tend to be very westernized.” Galal explains. “They travel to Europe and America and when they come back they try to apply the new way of life they experienced, not very successfully if I may add. What ends up happening is a combination between the Egyptian culture and the other one they brought back. Personally I don’t like that. I feel these people don’t have a personality of their own. They just go through life imitating others.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Mira nodes, “I knew a couple of people like this in university. All they talk about is their travels outside of Egypt and how they hope that Egypt could be like these places. I don’t disagree that it would be nice if the traffic in Egypt could be as organized as it is here in Vancouver for example, but I still wouldn’t want Egypt to be exactly the same. I wouldn’t change my culture for anything, even if it meant being the richest person in the whole world.”
“Well, I don’t think there is any chance of this happening.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Mira agrees. “But…”
Suddenly, the taxi brakes sharply and swerves trying to avoid something or someone. Galal and Mira, not wearing their seatbelts, are carried forward by their momentum. Their forward motion is forcefully halted by the front seats. Luckily, neither of them gets hurt, but they can clearly hear a loud thud as the taxi fails to avoid a being of some sort and Galal seriously hopes that the thud he just heard is not caused by a human body.
Galal is the first one out of the car. His heart is pumping hard that he can feel its rhythmic beats in his ears. Eyes open wide and hopes are strong that this is not a person they just hit. It all happened in a blink of an eye. One blink the road is clear, another a shadow pops out of no where, a third a thud. He tries to make some sense out of it all even before his eyes fall on the person lying on the ground. Why would someone jump in front of a car? Did somebody push him? Was he running from someone?
Abruptly his heart sinks and an involuntary tear waters his eyes, but is evaporated by a gentle, sad breeze. There on the paved way a boy is lying, half of his body under the car. A boy who is no more than seventeen or eighteen years of age is not going to enjoy the rest of his life. A life that could’ve held many laughs and tears, moments of love and regret, but now all what could’ve been is never going to happen for that boy and sad enough life goes on and memories fade away.
Seconds after Galal sees the tragic scene, he hears his sister’s gasps behind him as she in turn sees the boy. She has been working as a doctor only for a short time, but her following reaction comes as naturally and as professionally as a doctor with years of experience. One moment she is just Galal’s sister, another she is that completely new person whom Galal never met before.
It only takes a millisecond for all the information Mira’s eyes gathered to sink in. She then takes complete control of the situation. People are now gathering around the accident scene. Some are even getting too close for comfort. Immediately an alarm goes off in Mira’s head. In the spur of the moment people may actually hurt the boy even more thinking that they are helping him. That is a big NO, NO.
“Back up everyone. Back up now.” She shouts, in perfect English, at the top of her lung over the moving traffic around them and over the murmurs and gasps of the gathered crowd.
There is such commanding force in her voice that no one has any choice but to yield to her orders.
Mira then kneels beside the casualty and looks under the taxi fearing that the wheals of the car may actually have crossed over some part of his body crushing the bones. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees this is not so. In some ways, however, she wishes that the whole accident is just a matter of one or two broken bones, but it is much more serious than that.
She jumps back on her feet looking for the driver. The taxi driver is doing exactly what she wants him to do. He is talking on his cellular phone, apparently calling the ambulance. Quickly Mira runs over to the driver’s side.
“Back the car up away from boy.” She orders. “And then turn off the engine.”
“Is he okay?” The driver says, his voice shaking from fear and remorse. Fear, first, from getting convicted of intentional manslaughter, highly unlikely but still a fear, and at distant second, remorse for the boy who may die at any moment now.
“Well, he’s never going to be okay if you don’t do as I say.” Mira says intensely. “Now back the damn car up and turn off the ignition.”
The poor driver, now trembling from fear, does what Mira tells him.
Mira doesn’t wait around to watch the driver use his driving skill to back the car up. She quickly diverts her attention back to the critically injured boy. Priority Action Approach, PAA, procedures from first aid that she excels at, speed through her mind. She knows exactly what she has to do.
“Galal,” she calls. “Come here, I need your help.”
She turns and points at a man from the crowd, “You, I need your help too.”
“Galal, I need you to steady and support the boy’s head and neck to prevent movement by placing your hands on either side of the head.”
Galal kneels at the boy’s head and does exactly what he is told.
“You,” Mira turns to the man. “I want you to hold the boys feet firmly to prevent any unnecessary movement that will cause more damage.”
The man responds.
Mira in turn kneels beside the boy. His eyes are opening and closing rapidly and he can’t focus at all. He is conscious, but barely and his breathing is erratic and unstable. He is definitely going into shock. She takes off a light sweater she is wearing over her T-shirt and covers him with it. Galal does the same.
“Where does it hurt?” Mira asks softly.
The boy tries to say something, but all that comes out is incoherent sounds.
“Does your back and neck hurt?” She asks more specifically.
“I… I c… can’t move.” The boy finally manages to get out. His words are mixed with pain and confusion. Eyes clouding over, Mira can tell that he can’t see anything and even if he can his mind won’t be able to decipher any of the images.
She pinches his leg very lightly and asks; “Did you feel that?”
Again the boy can’t reply, but apparently doesn’t feel anything. Mira’s heart suddenly sinks. However, she doesn’t want to jump to conclusions.
“Can you move your fingers?” She asks.
No response.
“Hey, stay with me.” Mira slaps his cheeks very softly. “Fight the sleep. I need you awake.”
The boy’s eyes flutter open.
“That’s it. Good. Now I want you to try to move your fingers.” Mira requests.
The boy seems to try but with no success.
Mira looks at Galal and he immediately knows what she is thinking. He may not be a doctor but he had seen enough cases like this one after the earthquake in Egypt several years ago. He was part of the rescue efforts back then. Many people died and many more were paralyzed. It was an awful time. The screams of the dying and the wails of their families never left his ears a single second. He had seen ugly things that he couldn’t handle. People’s heads crushed and necks snapped back. This boy’s injury is not as bad, but just the sight of him lying there brings back all these memories he would give anything to forget.
“Okay listen,” Mira says to the boy. “Don’t try to move. Just relax. The ambulance is going to be here very, very soon.”
Mira hates to be put in a situation like this one. She wants to help so much but there is nothing she can do. No equipment, no trained medics, any wrong move might mean a permanent paralyzes or even death. So far she hasn’t lost any patients yet, but in the mean time she has only worked for two years no more.
Now they can hear the sirens of the ambulance, the fire trucks and the police cars closing in. One minute after, the medics are taking charge of the whole situation. To Galal, Mira and everyone watching the accident the past few minutes felt like ages. But now that the ordeal is over and the injured boy is taken to the hospital, the police start their investigation.


3. New Grounds…