Will checked the map on his screen and noted that he was nearly halfway across the Atlantic Ocean. He was on a Heathrow-bound British Airways night flight and had paid for a first-class seat to ensure space and privacy. Save for occasional reading lights, the area around him was dark and most of the other passengers were sleeping.
Will had not heeded Patrick’s advice to recuperate for a few days in New York City and instead had taken the next available flight back to London. He wondered now if he’d been wise to do so. Despite having taken a cocktail of medications before boarding the airplane at JFK, he now felt feverish and in agony. He pulled a thin blanket over his body and tried to sleep again. But the same memory kept coming back.
Soroush, I’m not who you think I am.
I suspected as much.
Good. Then you know who I really work for?
I do.
So you must also know what I’m about to ask from you.
Of course. You wish me to betray my country.
A new sweat broke out under Will’s clothes, and he pulled off the blanket. He opened his eyes, reached for a glass of ice water, and forced half its contents down. His hand shook as he replaced the glass on the table beside him. He now felt very cold again, and he cursed the fever while pulling on the blanket. He looked once more at the electronic map. The plane barely seemed to be moving.
Will shook his head and spoke out loud. “Why the hell did you not get off that bridge when you had the chance, my friend?”
A flight attendant appeared next to him. “Is everything all right?”
He looked up at her. He tried to smile and lied. “Bloody jet lag. I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
The woman nodded and produced a sympathetic smile. “Let me know if you need anything. You’re nearly home.”
Will closed his eyes again and this time saw Soroush sitting before him. He was eating breakfast on the day of his death. He looked tired. Reflective and sad. He spoke while shaking his head.
How can there be honor in what I do? How can there be any justification for taking others’ secrets? How can I expect to keep doing this without one day being punished? Maybe today is that day. And maybe that is a good thing.