Off Kilter (14 page)

After running the secure login routine, his computer was ready. Collin searched the Internet for stories about the RBS attack and the hunt for the culprits, including himself. Wanting to study it more carefully, he enlarged the photo of him and Pho Nam Penh taken two weeks earlier in a London pub. The chance encounter that had sent his already altered life into a frenetic cascade seemed so long ago now. Penh’s face was partially obscured by shadow, but he recalled the brief exchange. The man was cavalier though quiet. He exuded an unnatural air of confidence and panache as he approached Collin through the crowded bar, asking if he could sit at what appeared to be one of the few available seats in the place.

Collin stared at the face on his computer screen. This was the man who wanted his money and wouldn’t mind killing him to get it. This was the man who engineered the chance encounter that put Collin in the crosshairs of an intense international search for the alleged perpetrators. Regardless of the lack of evidence, Collin’s safety and security had been taken from him, as well as his reputation, and that made him angry.

He seethed as he stared at the shadowy face, filling in the details from memory. The cheekbones, he remembered, stood out more than most Asians. His skin was smooth and youthful. There was a break in his right eyebrow, perhaps a scar of some sort. His eyes were dark and intense; that he remembered vividly in retrospect. And the man was dressed impeccably, wearing a silk suit, dark shirt, and striped tie. Collin assumed at the time he was some sort of business tycoon, a real high roller. The uneasiness he felt back then returned and left him wanting fresh air, same as he had shortly after the man sat down next to him in London. Collin left that pub in a hurry because of that uneasiness.

Turning his attention back to his present situation, he wanted to check in with Lukas, although he knew Lukas was on radio silence. He just didn’t know how long, so he sent him a private message through the secure messaging system on his laptop to see what would happen. Lukas did not respond, but Collin decided to give him an update on his travels anyway.

Despite the fact that he had not taken any pictures, Collin also updated his travel journal with the details of his adventures since leaving Captain Sewell’s boat. His story would make Amy cringe, he knew, but he spared no detail, knowing she loved a good tale.

When he finished his latest and longest journal entry, he checked e-mail and responded to his mother with a vague reference as to his activities, mentioning only that he had tried sailing again and loved it and was enjoying the scenery. He assured her that his health was good, and he was safe. She needed to hear these things he knew.

Next he responded to an e-mail from his buddy Rob, which said, “How’s it going, bro? Enjoying your little getaway?”

Collin’s response: “You know it. Nonstop party. Rocking it hard. Still alive. Still on tour.” He knew Rob would be in touch with his family, and would get the details from Lukas, so he kept it brief but positive, despite the storm of anger that was rising inside. Thanks to his need to run and hide, Collin couldn’t enjoy the company of his best friend, who could surely help him deal with his loss. He wondered what Rob would do in this situation. The thought made him even more homesick. Better think of something else.

It was 1:13 a.m. He had thankfully lost track of time. Four hours left.

He remembered that he had not responded to Emily’s Facebook message in Panama City, so he logged in and found another message from her dated earlier in the day: “Any chance we can meet for coffee and just talk sometime soon? I want to make sure you’re doing OK, especially after the condition you were in last time I saw you. I wish I could have stayed there at the hospital with you, but I felt out of place. Let me know when we can get together.”

His heart sank, sensing her anxiety and concern.

He responded, “Sorry, I’ve been traveling and didn’t have Internet access. Yes, I would enjoy chatting again in person, but I won’t be available for a while.”

He contemplated what to say next when a reply chimed in. “You’re traveling? That’s good, I hope. Tell me more.”

He decided to remain vague. “Mostly in Europe. Saw some really cool stuff.”

Her next message didn’t come in for quite some time, and he wondered what she might be thinking. Finally she responded and said, “What kind of cool stuff did you see over there?”

“I loved London. Saw Westminster Abbey, Tower Bridge, rode the London Eye. You know, all that touristy stuff. But it was cool.” He wanted to keep some distance in both space and time, just in case this communication fell into other hands.

“That’s great. When do you plan to come back to CA?”

“Not for a while. I’ve got a few things I still want to do.” He tried to leave adequate time between each message so she wouldn’t think he was too eager. Plus, he had to consider her reasons for these questions. So far, it seemed to be a normal conversation. She acted interested in what he was doing, so he reciprocated. “Tell me more about your work. I know you love it, but what are you working on?”

Just after he hit send, another message came in: “How long is a while? Are we talking next week, next month, next year?”

Her inquisitive mind, he remembered, always thought up a million questions. He knew he had to answer her, but he also knew he couldn’t be specific. “Not a year. Maybe a month. Hard to say. I’m taking care of some personal stuff, so it will probably be a week or two, at least.”

Now the messages were getting disjointed, as she responded to the previous question. “I’m working on a new gene-sequencing experiment to engineer proteins that will hopefully fight cancerous cells within the pancreas and potentially in certain types of other cancers. It’s promising, but we’re taking baby steps at this point.”

“Sounds complex and exciting. You must really be into your work.” He pushed send and got another response immediately after.

“I see. Too busy to have coffee with a friend, eh?”

“No, it’s not like that. I just have some things I’m working on, and I don’t know how long it will take me to finish. That’s all,” Collin said.

The timing continued to present challenges.

“Yeah, it’s just boring science stuff. Us lab rats aren’t very interesting until we score a major breakthrough.”

“I think your work sounds exciting. I mean, how many people get to really help others the way you can.”

“OK. If you don’t want to talk face to face, I get it. It’s just that I want to be there for you. But I don’t want to be a pest.”

Collin paused so they could get on the same topic at the same time.

“You’re a good friend, not a pest at all. Don’t worry about that. I would love to meet up sometime. Let me figure out when and how. Believe it or not, my life is very complicated right now.” There was a long pause. Collin worried that he had put her off or offended her, so he changed the subject. “You do anything outside of work?”

It seemed like an eternity before Emily came back with a response. Had he pushed her away? Her next message felt more sterile, less chummy. “Admittedly, I’m really into my work, but it’s starting to pay off. My colleagues and I are on the brink of a breakthrough, I think. But you might not find biomedical research super exciting like I do.”

“I always knew you would do great things. I’m really glad to hear it. I’m happy for you,” he wrote.

“Thank you.”

“Does this mean you’re going to cure cancer?”

“I wish. That would be a dream.”

“You’ve always had that dream. I admire your persistence.”

“Thank you.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you were the one to find a cure.”

“We’re a long way off still, but every step, I guess, moves us closer to that goal.” Her messages were coming in much faster now. That meant she wasn’t thinking so hard about what to say, which, Collin thought, was a good thing. He wanted to keep things light and stay on a subject she felt confident about.

“You’ll get there, I’m sure. Knowing you.”

“Wanna hear something I haven’t told anyone else?”

“Of course.”

“My boss asked me to speak at the BioMed Conference in Chicago. He wants me to present the findings that we published in last month’s
Cancer Researchers Journal
. I have to admit, I’m pretty nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous. Just relax and be yourself. You’ll do great.”

“I appreciate the encouragement. It means a lot to me.”

The two high school sweethearts continued their conversation for another hour before realizing it was late—nearly one o’clock in the morning for Emily.

“Keep in touch and let’s meet up soon” was her final line.

After Emily signed off, Collin spent the next ninety minutes learning more about the BioMed Conference in Chicago, the Scripps Institute, and the article Emily had published. Her career was on fire, it seemed. She was doing important work and making a difference in the world, just as she had dreamed about when they were dating.

Their lives had diverged for many years and in many ways. Collin was never sure why she was so motivated and focused while he had no idea what he wanted to be. Nothing ever grabbed him the way the world of medicine and science grabbed her. He never finished college; she had a PhD. She had never had a real relationship, other than the one with him. But that was a dozen years ago. Since then, he had loved so deeply and desperately that the loss of that love had nearly destroyed him. Now, from half a world away, he felt closer to Emily, more intrigued by her than he had been since his senior year.

It made him miss home and his friends.

Thankfully, dawn was breaking outside. His release from this filthy cell was imminent.

*              *              *              *

It took Collin a total of six days to work his way the eleven hundred miles across Colombia and Peru to Lima, hopping from one obscure village to another by bus, covering as few as eighty and as many as three hundred miles a day. Each segment of the journey was a grueling and exhausting event, much like the first one. The buses were crowded and stinky, most of them mechanical nightmares on wheels. In a few of the towns, he was able to find a clean motel with Internet access so he could continue his online dialogues, mostly with his mother and Emily, and get some real sleep. But most of them were run down and dirty and backward.

It seemed that things were changing back home. For no apparent reason, his brother, Richard, and his sister, Megan, began to drop e-mail notes to keep him up-to-date on the happenings in their rather ordinary lives. He found this both intriguing and ironic, especially the timing. Why did they all of a sudden start showing concern? They had each expressed their frustrations with him during the holidays but hadn’t shown much interest in him since. Megan had said she felt like he was punishing the family for his problems by not being home for Christmas. Since then she had written him a grand total of four e-mails. Richard had accused him of being a coward and running away when the going got hard and hadn’t written another thing since New Year’s Eve. Why had they decided simultaneously to forgive him? After their separate rants and deliberate distancing, they were now worried? Their e-mails expressed concern for his well-being and let him know their mother missed him terribly and wanted him home. Patiently, he explained that he couldn’t do that right now. He had some urgent matters to take care of. But, he promised, when he got all of his business taken care of, he would return.

As he suffered through one cramped and nauseating bus ride after another, he found his mind alternately thinking about his mother and Emily and plotting vengeance against Pho Nam Penh. The more physical hardship he had to endure, the more he felt a desire to communicate with the women who meant the most to him and to strangle the man who hunted him. These thoughts helped him survive the tedium of his travels. Thoughts of bringing down his nemesis energized him when he needed it most. All of these emotions, the positive and the negative, swirling inside also served to keep his mind off of Amy and his children, keeping his sorrow at bay that much longer.

Throughout his journey to Lima, Collin found that he looked forward to sending messages to his family and friends and was eager to read their replies. They were interested in his doings, which caused him to tell more and more. The particulars of his locations and travels remained purposely vague, but he described, in broad brush strokes, the scenery and the people and the food so they could appreciate that he was having new experiences. Sharing brought a measure of joy that had long been absent.

Lukas managed to finally respond to Collin’s message. His response was brief and stressed the need for caution and watchfulness. Pho Nam Penh still had a score to settle. His stirring of the hornet’s nest with the photos in London, Lukas assured Collin, was just an opening salvo. Surely the game was only beginning. And surely Collin had yet to see his best moves.

Despite Lukas’s calls to vigilance, Collin saw few white people and even fewer people who even gave him a second look. To the hard-working natives he encountered, he was just another shaggy-haired, bearded American wandering through their world. Despite his ability to speak their language, these rural coffee farm laborers and small-town merchants had little time or concern for someone like him.