The Ray Merchant Incident

"Dr. McCord, I know it's outside your office hours, but I was wondering if you had a minute."

Elizabeth sighs. She wants to tell him no. She should tell him no. Allison has a parent-teacher conference in an hour and a half. Stevie wanted to go to Target for a CD or something, but she didn't really listen beyond the ask for a ride. But he's a student—a needy one she's observed.

"Yeah, come in. Just make it quick, please."

Ray makes a point of shutting the door on the way to the couch she keeps in her office. It was an expensive couch. She doesn't know why she bought it for this space. It's not like she ever sleeps on it like she used to at the CIA.

"I would like you to be my thesis advisor." He starts bluntly pulling Elizabeth out of her thoughts. It's not an out-of-the-norm question for her to receive. She is currently working with three other Ph.D. students on their dissertations. But something about the way he asks makes her stomach flip. It isn't a feeling she comes across too often anymore. Being a University professor doesn't lend itself to the type of thrill and danger she once lived with at the CIA.

The request makes her wary. He sits in the chair across from her and stares. It's unnerving.

"Ray, you know I have three other Ph.D. students this semester. I don't like to have any more advisees than that at one time. I like to give everyone enough attention." She says. It's not a lie. Not a total one. She usually takes on four students. It's just that this semester, she decided to keep her number down.

"Yes, I do know that, Dr. McCord. And I am aware of your current advisees. They all are doing excellent work." There is something that flashes in his eyes for a quick second. Too quick for her to actually gage. "I think you and I would be a great fit."

"I'm still going to have to say no." She says with finality. His face drops ever so slightly. Elizabeth knows his disappointment is a ruse.

"I understand."

He gets up from the chair and moves toward the door. She turns her attention back to her laptop. She expects him to be gone in a moment.

"We're connected, you and me." He sounds like a little boy who has just heard the word no for the first time. His crush would almost be cute if the statement hadn't made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She looks up. He's looking back at her, staring through her. It's eerily similar to the way hardened terrorists have looked at her.

She stands up and, in a tone she uses on her children and her husband when they've pushed too far, says, "That's a rather bold and inappropriate statement, Ray."

"It's the truth." He walks over to her desk, placing his hands on it and leaning over it. His face just inches from hers, "You feel it too. I know you do."

Elizabeth scoots back in her chair, creating distance between the two of them. Her heart is pounding. It's a reaction she hasn't felt in a long time. True adrenaline.

"Ray, you are making me uncomfortable," She states firmly.

"What a coincidence. You make me uncomfortable." His words are like ice down her spine. She can feel the goosebumps as they form.

"Mr. Merchant, you need to leave now." Not one to back down, she stands, trying to make herself taller. It doesn't work. He towers over her, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I know you know that." His voice sounds hurt, not vicious. This is a volatile situation. She knows that. Women are hurt all the time by men who like them.

She has to keep her wits about her.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but you're my student. Nothing is ever going to happen."

Ray nods and then smiles, and then leers, "Why are you doing this to us?"

"Us?" She laughs. It is not a humorous sound. It is more incredulous.

"Yes. You know there is an us."

She shakes her head and looks away, unable to continue looking into his eyes.

"No, there isn't. And there never will be. Now, you need to go." She is surprised by her firmness. She doesn't know what kind of game he is playing, but she has no interest in figuring it out.

"What are you talking about? Of course, there's an us!" He stands up straight and continues to get louder, "You are everything to me! Elizabeth, don't do this." Suddenly, his hand is in his pocket, and when it returns, he's holding a knife. Elizabeth takes a breath. She was trained for this. Stay calm, keep him talking, and get help.

She slowly reaches for the panic button under her desk. The direct line to campus security was installed after a professor was shot last year over a grade on a paper.

She hopes the officer will get there before the situation escalates.

"Ray, put down the knife. You know that's not the answer." Her hand closes around the button. She pushes.

"We love each other, Elizabeth." He starts to point the knife towards her, a more overt threat. "You have to love me back!"

"Ray, put down the knife, okay? You don't want to do anything stupid."

Her calm voice seems to anger him, and he begins to pace, still clutching the weapon.

"No. No. No." He begins to mumble to himself. Elizabeth watches as he grabs his head and starts to hit himself.

"Ray, stop. Okay. Listen to me. We can figure this out. I'm going to help you, okay?"

"NO!" He screams. It makes her jump. He's looking at her again. "Y-y-you have to love me... I'll kill you, and then I'll kill myself. That's what I should have done. That's what I'll do." He points the knife directly at her, "We can be together then."

"Ray, let's talk about this." She says calmly. She can tell that her rejection must've triggered something in him he's been trying to cope with. And now he's rapidly decompensating. She's not sure if she can calm him down. He starts to walk towards her. Elizabeth holds her ground.

"Don't come near me, Ray." She says as he continues to advance on her. "Ray, I know you're angry and scared. I'm scared, too. Okay. Put down the knife, and we'll talk. Just you and me."

"N-n-no, no." He's mumbling again. His face is turning red. He's breathing harder and harder. And suddenly, he is not Elizabeth's problem. Two campus security officers rush into her office and grab Ray. They take the knife away. They handcuff him. They take him out, yelling and screaming. Elizabeth sinks into her chair. She is shaking. The adrenaline is coursing through her. She can't control it. She feels nauseous. She is sweating. Things like this aren't supposed to happen anymore. She quit her dangerous job for a cushy life.

Her office door swings open.

"Elizabeth!" It's Henry. He is frantic. She looks at him. His eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking. He's out of breath. She knows he ran here from his office. "You hit your panic button."

"Henry," she croaks. Her body is beginning to come down from its heightened state. She feels a wave of relief crash into her. He is here. She rushes into the safety of his arms. He hugs her tight.

"Baby, are you okay?"

She says nothing. She stands with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Babe? Are you hurt?" He whispers, kissing the top of her head. She shakes her head. But he pulls away from her and gives her body a once-over accessing for injuries.

"I'm not hurt. He just threatened me. And the knife..." She stops, the images flooding her. He takes her hands and guides her to the couch.

"It's okay, I'm here."

"This..." She sighs deeply, "Stuff like this wasn't supposed to happen anymore." She whispers. And that's the thing. When things like this happen in operations, there is a part of the brain that gets turned off. You can prepare for it. It is expected. It is part of the job. But not here. Not in her office. Not in the place she thought she was safe.

"I know," he says and puts his arm around her, pulling her into his body. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispers.