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Rick's Flight(continued) 9. "What if I were to tell you Mr. Al-Saber is a major security risk." "I wouldn't believe you." "And why is that, Dr. Todd?" "Because I've known him for nearly a year. He's been to my house.
He's hung out with my friends. I've talked art and literature with him.
I'm a pretty good judge of people." "Is that what you were doing on Wednesday evening? Talking art
and literature?" Rick could hear all different layers of innuendo
in that one. Don't fly off again. Be cool. "Yes." "So you don't deny his staying over. His leaving on Thursday around
noon?" "No." "And in all that time, in all the discussion about art and literature,
he said nothing about travel plans?" "No." Another stare-down across the table.
10. Rick drove down Montauk Highway, then up Railroad Avenue towards the
Sayville train station. About a block away: "I don't think they know what I look like.
My pictures don't look like me." "They don't. You're better looking." "Gee thanks." That broad smile of his. Rick always melted. It's a moment of lightness in an impossibly dense ride.
11. "Is this Mr. Al-Saber?" He slid a Xeroxed photo across the
table. It was Sayeed when he was a teen, maybe twenty at the most. "It's hard to say. This is a kid. Sayeed's 27 years old." "Is this, in your opinion, a photo of Sayeed al-Saber?" "I can't say." "Won't say, Professor?" "No, I can't say. It doesn't look like Sayeed. The Sayeed I know
has short cropped hair." "His manager at Starbucks says his hair is shoulder length." "Then why ask me?" "Because you're lying." "Like I said, the Sayeed I know has short hair." Another moment of silence and glares.
12. They were parked on the north side of the station, where the Manhattan-bound
trains stopped. Rick kept his hands on the wheel, gripping and un-gripping nervously. Sayeed just sat there and stared out the window for a few moments. "When's your train again?" He looked at his cell. "Five minutes." "Do you want to wait here till it comes?" "May I? Do you mind?" "Jesus. Of course. Hopefully, no one knows you're here. But just
in case, stay here until the second the train pulls in. Buy your ticket
on the train. Costs more, but what the fuck." Is someone watching? The thought nagged him.
13. They were watching.
14. "Actually, Dr. Todd, we think there's a lot you know about Sayeed
al-Saber that you're not telling us." "Am I under arrest or something? Can I catch my flight?" "That's up to you." "Look, I've told you all I know. Several times now. Sayeed came
to my house. We talked..." "... about art and literature..." He imitated the agent's tone, "Yes, sir. About art and literature." Take it easy, Ricky. "He stayed over. The next day, I drove him to the Sayville train
station, where he said he was taking a train to the City. That's all
I know." His interrogator pressed his earpiece for a moment, obviously listening
to something, and then said calmly. "You're free to go now, Professor
Todd." Rick slid back his chair and started getting up. "But remember that we're watching, Dr. Todd. You're officially
under surveillance." "If I'm really guilty of something — God knows what —
isn't it risky telling me I'm being watched?" "You watch too many movies, Rick." He almost imitated Sayeed's
inflections. Trying not to show any reaction, Rick felt a deep shiver. They know everything, don't they? He walked out the door into the bustle of the terminal. Maybe more than I do? Which was an even scarier thought.
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