Kate- The journalist
Finally I was looking at the man that was paying for my undercover, private job. I had only been a revolution journalist for 5 weeks and after the car explosion I had just seen, I realised that they weren't afraid to throw me into the deep end straight away- which gave me comfort, they trusted me. I had got out of my car at lightning speed while dialling 999 on my mobile. When I felt his pulse I couldn't feel it at all, I was so scared even though I knew how to do CPR. His lips were so warm and moist. Why was I thinking about this? I was being too un-professional. I would never tell him who saved him, partly because I wanted to get to know the man myself, without him being eternally grateful to me before we'd even known each other's names. I wanted his opinion of me to be neutral, for him to like me for who I was.
I saw his eyes opening, for some reason I felt deeply relieved, even though the doctors had already told me he was going to be okay.
"Hi, my name's Kate?"
"Huh? Why am I… the bomb." The realisation crept over his face, I already knew.
"It was for me, wasn't it?" He asked, very faint creases appeared on his forehead with his expression of worry, he looks so young! I thought. All I did was nod back, I tried to make it look like I wasn't too sure about why but I was a reporter, I had to play my cards right. I couldn't have intervened, otherwise they would have know people were on their case, if I told Ryan too much, he may have decided to hold information back, afraid of what to say.
"I'm an investigative journalist who was there at the scene. I thought it would be a brilliant idea if I could get an interview with what seems like the target himself?" I smiled questioningly, wondering if he would accept.
"Uh, yeah I guess. But first, do you know why they tried to kill me?" From the look in his eyes I could tell that he was formulating ideas in his mind, but he wasn't yet certain.
"I'm not sure really, that's why I came here, to see if you had any ideas. You haven't been doing anything illegal, have you? You're not part of some rival criminal gang?" He laughed at that.
"No. I wonder...-"
"Wonder what?" I asked, now intensively listening with my notepad and pen ready.
"Well I can't say really, the information that I could give you would turn deadly if it got in the hands of the media. I'm sorry." I was prepared for that, my boss gave me a list of likely responses he would give me. It was my role to remind him that I worked for a secret newspaper that published only to small minorities, the ones that believed in the atrocious 'conspiracies' that were happening to us in daily life.
Explaining all that to him was hard work, especially because I had to hush my voice every time a nurse or a doctor came in to check up on him. Like him, what I had to say couldn't just be blabbed out whenever I felt like it. He took every word in, I admit he had a little scepticism but nonetheless I think he believed me. I hoped.
"I don't have much reason to not believe you, your story seems quite truthful, however it's something I can never ever explain. It's just too..." He searched for the word. "...miraculous." I nodded attentively.
"The only way you could get some idea of what I do is by seeing my work in action." My heart leapt up at this. I had heard so much about this man. The young nutritionist prodigy. The One who cured cancer. The One who could end all disease. A messenger of God by religious believers. And now, I would be able to see his work, healing the sick, curing those condemned to death. A fluttery, dizzy feeling sprang up in my mind. This couldn't be happening!
"That would be fantastic. I've heard about you. When is your next appointment with a patient?" Oops, wrong questions to ask, I was digging myself into a hole that I might not get out of.
"Tuesdays and Fridays, but essentially I'm there for them on call twenty-four seven. Whatever it takes to justify the means." He smiled up at me, then frowned.
"So you've heard about me then? That would explain why those, terrorists, were so eager to kill me. They've also heard about what I do." He paused. "I didn't realise that I would already have to work under the curtains."
"No! You can't do that. You have to be more open, make it a registered charity, so long as you lie and say your only purpose is providing support to those who can't afford the treatment or something, they'll lap it up like dogs and won't give a rat's arse. You won't be lying, just not telling the whole truth." Ryan thought the idea over, then beamed in my direction.
"You are my hero." He replied. Boy if only he knew...