Chapter 6: Combat Boots on a Decorative Rug

Nick. He’s been arrested. No, why would they be looking for him if he’s been arrested? There’s a warrant for his arrest. He’s in the hospital. He’s dead. How could she possibly have been so upset with him? He had probably had her name on his lips as he passed into the next world, and all she could think about was that he was late. For shame!

“Ms. Humphreys?” came the voice from the door again.

“Oh my goodness,” said Sarah, leaping up from the couch, “please, come in.”

She unlocked the deadbolt and let the security door chain stop the door so that she could see the man outside before admitting him into the apartment. He flipped out a badge: FBI. She’d always seen them in movies. The whole situation felt… felt… like a dream.

Out of the view of the man at the door, Sarah pinched her leg.

No dream.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, upon matching the man in the suit with the man on the badge, whom, she thought, could still be any sort of murderer or rapist. But, if he had known Nick’s last name, it seemed more likely that he was…

Sarah undid the door chain.

“Good evening, again,” he said, “I’m sorry to intrude on you this way, but I was wondering if you had seen Mr. Assencio this evening.”

He was looking for Nick. This Special Agent was looking for Nick.

“No,” Sarah gasped, “I… he’s supposed to…”

Agent Sokolov inclined his head toward her.

“It’s our anniversary, sir,” she said. “We’re supposed to go out for dinner. But. He’s late.”

Sarah’s eyes wandered the room uncomfortably. Agent Sokolov was still looking directly at her. His eyes were gray. Piercing. The way that his black eyebrows slanted downward gave his face a menacing, almost angry affect, but his aspect was dispassionate.

“I understand,” he said, “Now, I am sure that it’s all some sort of misunderstanding. However…” He let his words sink in but didn’t move his eyes. “It is of the utmost importance that I see Mr. Assencio as soon as possible. You see,” Agent Sokolov paused again, “An explosive device was detonated in the Southwestern Subatomic Supercollider’s computer lab a little more than an hour ago.”

“Oh my god!” shouted Sarah, “What? Is he all right?”

She cursed, realizing what a ridiculous question it was within the context it had been asked.

“I’m sorry,” she continued. “Obviously, if you want to speak with him, you already know something.”

“Correct,” said Agent Sokolov. “We have reason to believe that your… boyfriend? (she nodded) ...knows individuals who are responsible for the lab.”

Sarah let out something equidistant between a sob and a yip.

“Well, he isn’t here,” said Sarah, almost hysterically, “We’d be out at dinner by now if he had been.”

The lab was destroyed, Sarah thought. How? Who blows up a particle physics lab? Spurned physicists? Religious zealots? Nick had always said that religious people hated science. It was a frequent point of tension between them. Who could Nick know that might want to destroy the lab? Everyone he was friends with either worked there or would be so bored by the goings and comings of a particle physics laboratory that they would have fallen asleep too quickly to think about destroying it.

“Well,” Agent Sokolov cleared his throat, “I’m sorry to even be asking this, especially under these circumstances, but would you mind if we searched the apartment?”

Before she could stop herself, Sarah croaked, “We?”

Her vision adjusted as she peered into the hallway behind Agent Sokolov to see several police officers in what she would later describe to her friends as “battle armor.” Their boots made surprisingly little noise as they hurried through the apartment with weapons out. They had guns out. They aimed the guns everywhere. If Nick were here, would they shoot him? Right in front of her? Did they not believe her that he wasn’t in the apartment? Just what had Nick gotten himself into?

“Go, go right,” Sarah paused on each word, as if she weren’t even sure of their meanings, “Go right ahead.”

“Thank you,” said Agent Sokolov, as the half of a dozen men in tactical gear, pointed their shotguns and submachine guns, toward her closet, the corners of her bedroom, and the balcony of the apartment she’d lived in for two years.

The pieces of her world were coming down around her in a whirlwind of conjecture. Nick was a criminal? His lab was destroyed? Had anyone been hurt? Had anyone died?

It all had to be a misunderstanding. She knew Nick. Not only was he not a bad person; he didn’t have it in him to destroy a lab. This was a man who trapped spiders with the paper/glass method before blowing them out the door. Nick was a person she’d decided to share her life with. He was dedicated. Driven. Intelligent and peaceful.

Sarah said another silent prayer for Nick. She tried to make her case to God that he was a good man. She knew him. All of Nick’s various foibles. Whatever he had gotten involved in, it was within God’s power to bring Nick home safely. He was a good person. He helped other people. She knew abstractly that sometimes bad things happened to good people, but that God had a plan, and whatever that plan was, it couldn’t involve allowing Nick to get hurt or whatever else could happen to him. He was a good person, and what could a plan that hurt Nick serve in the long run?

The calls of “clear” came from the small apartment’s very limited number of rooms. Sarah concluded her prayer, and Agent Sokolov drew an inconcealably expectant gaze from her. Surely, he had more information to share. Surely, he wasn’t going to leave it at this. She was at the mercy of so many forces.

“At this point,” said Agent Sokolov, “it would be a very good idea for us to take you into protective custody.”

Sarah’s eyes widened.

“That is, of course, up to you,” he continued, “but I would strongly advise you to take this precaution. Your boyfriend-”

“Fiancé,” she interrupted, not knowing at all why she had said that.

Agent Sokolov stared at her for just a moment. She didn’t have an engagement ring, but a lot of people didn’t. Why had she said that?

“Your fiancé may be in the company of some very, very dangerous people. It’s quite possible that he has been coerced, against his will, into being a part of something he does not want anything to do with.”

“He’s a good person,” she said.

“I know.” How could he know that? Sarah’s look must have betrayed her thought because Agent Sokolov bristled for a moment, exhaled, and continued. “Regardless, it would be irresponsible for me to leave you here, knowing that you could be used as leverage against him. Please, come with me to the police station,” said Agent Sokolov, with something that very nearly resembled warmth in his voice.

“I can’t imagine Nick doing anything remotely like what you’ve said,” Sarah responded. “You’ve got to bring him home safely.”

“We are doing our best. However, your safety is our primary concern at present. The best thing that you can do right now is follow our instructions and let the professionals do what we do best.”

“Okay,” Sarah said. “Let me get my coat.”

Of course, Nick was in the company of dangerous people, forcing him to do something against his will. Blow up the lab? That was ridiculous. Nick loved that stupid lab. He spent practically every waking moment there. There was an explanation for all of this. There was a reasonable explanation for all this. Someday, she and Nick would joke about how crazy the whole episode had been. Someday, they’d talk about that one anniversary that they’d missed because of terrorists or something. Maybe, this whole thing would be over before midnight and they’d have a tacky fast food anniversary dinner and Nick would set up candles to make it seem ironically classy and they’d have a good nervous laugh over it. Sarah’s mind raced from one amenable solution to the next, but as she got her coat and walked downstairs to the waiting police car, each seemed less likely than the last.