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| New Life By Mar |
| CHAPTER THREE “Everything seemed to slow down in a matter of seconds. The air got damp, almost unbreathable and the sudden, thick silence, filled the street with an unbearable tension. It was like being wrapped in a bubble, completely isolated from the rest of the world. I still can see the brake-lights of the cars before me; I still can hear the big bang shaking me to the core; I still can feel the ground trembling under my car as if endowed with a movement of its own. It was like a... Hell, I don’t know what it was like! I got out of my car and took my sunglasses off, frowning with concern. Before me, a gigantic traffic-jam... and then, a bright ball of fire followed by a black cloud of smoke. I froze with fear and a thick sheet of perspiration covered my body in a matter of seconds. I could not move; some cars flew towards the end of the street but I still could not move; people ran everywhere screaming and crying but I still could not move. It was as if I had put down roots on the pavement. I had the feeling of being a simple spectator. Perhaps I was only watching a violent movie. Perhaps I was only having an awful nightmare. But a sudden wave of wet heat left me breathless and I realized that it was not a nightmare. A man carrying a child bumped into me and I fell to the ground groaning in pain. I got up slowly, looking around with fear and I followed people running down the street without knowing very well what I was doing. I ran, and ran, and ran, till my lungs hurt. The insistent sound of sirens told me that the police and the ambulances were on their way, so I stopped and walked till the next street. I turned around the corner and rested my back against the wall, closing my eyes and trying to recover my breath. By then, I knew it was a new terrorist attack from ETA. It had to be. It was not the first time, of course. Spanish people had suffered this kind of attack for years, but I had never been so near of one, so involved with one. Shouts, cries, questions, footsteps... I could hear everything crystal clear. Everything. ‘Good job,’ said one of the men. I had seen both of them but I had not paid any attention. I had too many important things to think about at that moment. Now, my senses were fully awake and my eyes snapped open when I heard those damn words. Good job? What the hell were they talking about? I looked at them carefully trying to overhear their conversation but since I did not understand a word of French... well, it was impossible to me. I could see their backs but not their faces. They both were tall, thin, with long dark hair. They spoke quickly, moving their hands, laughing softly... And then, one of them turned around and his eyes laid on me. I gasped and tried to run away from his cold gaze but my feet were again stuck to the ground. I knew that man, I was sure. I knew those cold, lifeless eyes but I could not fathom where I had seen them. His lips opened in a menacing smile and suddenly I was able to put a name to that face. Aitor Aritzabaleta. A dangerous Basque terrorist. His picture had been on TV and in the main papers for several weeks. The Interpol, attending to a request from the Spanish Government, had put an international warrant of arrest against him. He was charged with several murders and kidnappings. And at that moment, he was looking at me. I can remember exactly, the moment he realized that I had recognised him. His eyes narrowed, his hands closed into tight fists and he grimaced showing his clenched teeth. He spoke to his friend and pointed at me with a menacing finger, and it was then when I really noticed the other man. He was a foreigner. His features were unmistakably Arabic and his eyes were even colder than Aitor’s. I swallowed hard and looked around me to see if I could find someone there to help me. I felt alone and lost, and everybody was so scared and confused... Suddenly I ran again without looking back. I knew that they were right behind me but I ran, and ran, and ran. I could hear their footsteps, I could hear their shouts and their promises of death but I didn’t stop. I ran till I bumped into something so hard that I felt to the ground half unconscious. The last thing that I saw were their horrible faces...” *** Frank Donovan had been quiet listening carefully to her words. He had read everything in the file but listening to the facts from her own lips... well, it was something completely different. Her shoulders trembled uncontrolably and he realized she was crying silently. Without making any noise he approached the table and left the folder, returning to her to put his warm hands on her shoulders trying to give her some deserved comfort. She didn’t reject his hands. “Hush, Susana,” he said softly. “It is over now.” She shook her head. “No, it is not. Why do you think I am here? You have read the file, haven’t you? This is not over yet, Agent Donovan.” Frank closed his eyes and sighed, squeezing her shoulders trying to give her some reassurement. He understood perfectly her defensive attitude, but he also knew that if he wasn’t able to stop it, she would go down miserably. “You must call me Frank,” he asked. “After all, we are going to spend together the next few days and I do not like the sound of that ‘Agent Donovan’ thing.” She snorted and managed to escape from his warm hands without looking evasive. “I am sure that everybody around here calls you Agent Donovan,” she said looking at him for the first time since she had told him her story. “But you are right. Frank sounds much better.” He smiled widely and Susana’s eyes narrowed, feeling a strange warm knot inside of her. She knew that he was going to ask her some questions. She could sense his anticipation, his need to know everything... “What do you want to know, Frank?” She sat on the chair deciding to make things easier for him. “You can ask me everything you want. I know you are starving for more details.” Frank had followed her path to the chair with hungry eyes. That woman was wrapped in coldness. However, her dark eyes were now nailed to his revealing boldness, passion and commitment. Suddenly, he wished to touch her long wavy black hair, to feel its softness and its sweet scent. He had smelled her and her hair and it had brought a sharp puncture to his groin. Frank Donovan wanted that woman. Damn it! He had just realized how badly he wanted her and he could not understand it. He didn’t know her; of course, he had read her file but a file was not a person. He wanted, really wanted to know her. Her mind, her heart, her soul, her dreams and desires... ALL of her. Frowning in confusion, Frank took a small stool that was next to the bathroom and approached her without leaving her eyes. He could feel her hesitation but also her need to share the pain and the hate she felt. He sat right in front of her and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands under his strong chin. She was so near that he could smell her scent again. Damn it! Her long legs showing under the white dress, her soft shoulders, her narrow waist and ample hips... “Enough of that crap, Frank Donovan!” he reprimanded himself. “What happened after you fainted?” he asked hoping she would not notice his husky voice. “Did the police find you?” Susana sighed and closed her eyes massaging her temples. When she looked at him again, silent tears shone in her haunted eyes. “I... I am not sure,” she confessed. “When I woke up... when I woke up I was still alone. Aitor and his friend had gone and I... I was too stunned to think clearly. I could smell the smoke and...” she stopped as if trying to focus her mind. Suddenly, her fingernails were the most interesting thing in the world. “I could smell... flesh... human flesh.” Frank Donovan swallowed hard and kept quiet. “I got up slowly. My head was pounding and I felt something wet running down my cheek. It was blood, but I didn’t mind it at that moment.” Her voice sounded empty, distant. “I walked back to my car. I had to know... I needed to know what had happened. I could hear so many things... I was scared to death to come back to the... to that street, but I had to do it. Does it make sense, Frank? Does it make any sense?” Frank put his hands on her knees and squeezed softly. “Of course it makes sense, Susana. You needed to be sure about something. It was dangerous but your need was bigger than your fear.” “Yes, that’s right,” she nodded and her hands rested on Frank’s. “I came back and when I turned around the corner...” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ New Life - Chapter 4 |