"STOP! PLEASE...please," Anna shouts over the roar of the motorcycle engine zipping through Istanbul's busy morning traffic. "I need to stop!"
It feels like hours have passed instead of minutes, and her head is spinning as the man in the black leather jacket turns the motorcycle up a side street and slows to a halt. Tugging the helmet off her face, Anna stumbles off the bike - nearly knocking it over - and collapses against a building on the sidewalk.
The motorcycle growls before sputtering out, and Anna is left alone with a deafening sound in her ears. Midday traffic hums on the main road, but she can hear nothing beyond the ringing in her ears. The sound of bullets firing at close range. A body tumbling to the ground. She sees it over and over again - unable to move, think, or cry - her blue eyes wide as her brain replays Rifat's death without ceasing.
"Are you okay?"
She doesn't register the words coming from his mouth until he's crouched down next to her, repeating them softly.
"He's...he's..." she stutters, unblinking.
From what little she knew of Rifat, he seemed to be an honorable man. Not only did he defect from an army that would later be known for committing crimes against humanity, risking his life in order to protect his conscience, he had a wife and two small children. Anna didn't even know their names; she had no way to contact them other than his Twitter handle and the encrypted email address he'd contacted her with after seeing one of her pieces on the Syrian conflict.
The warm Turkish midday sun burned on her skin, but she shivers as the man next to her places his hand on her shoulder.
"Is he...dead?" Her voice cracks as she speaks the last word, as if her vocal cords are unwilling to project what her mind is unable to process.
"I..." the man inhales. "Yes, he's dead."
Anna buries her face in her hands, pressing her palms against her eyes as if trying to push the truth from her memory. She remembers grabbing Rifat from across the table and pulling him to the ground before the first spray of bullets, and the memory that the hands against her face are those that touched him last causes her to jerk them away in horror. It's as if his blood trickles between her fingers, pooling in the crevices and cracks in her palm, the ghost of its metallic scent wafting up through her nose.
"We need to move," says the man in the leather jacket.
"Move?" Anna asks. "We...I...no. I need to go back. I need to find Rifat. I need to tell his family. I need..."
"Stop it," he says, shaking her shoulder roughly. "Now is not the time. You go back, you die. You stay here, you die."
Her skin is ashen, and the man can see her body beginning to shake as the adrenaline drains from her system only to be replaced by shock. She'll be nearly catatonic soon, meaning any attempts to reason with her or move her will be in vain.
"Hey, look at me."
Anna stares blankly at her hands, then back at his face before she registers that he has spoken.
"What?"
"You're going to be okay," he says gruffly, clearly trying to expedite the process of finding both of them a safe place for cover.
"But...I..." she mumbles, blinking slowly.
He glances down the street before turning back to her, now gripping both of her shoulders tightly with a reassuring squeeze.
"Hey, we need to go. We need to get to safety," he tells her. "We can't stay here on the street like this. It's too dangerous."
She nods once, following his gaze as he glances up at the sky. A helicopter flies overhead, and she flinches before realizing it's not a man in a red metal suit.
"Iron Man," she whispers. "Why? Why did he..."
The man squeezes her shoulders again, jerking her slightly to pull her attention back to him.
"Please," his voice is thick with urgency. "Not now."
She turns to face him, gradually noting his dark, wavy hair, olive skin, and clear brown eyes, and registering that she has no idea who this man is across from her.
"Okay."
Now playing: "Come With Me Now" by KONGOS.