“That’s normal,” I said. “It’s adrenaline. You’re going through adrenaline dump right now. Makes you crazy.”
“How do you do this?” she asked, wiping her eyes. “I saw you. You shot those three guys dead like it was nothing. It took like four seconds. I mean, oh my God, how do you do it?”
I shrugged. “It’s what I do. It’s all that I do, I guess. I try not to think about it.”
“I just want to go home,” Sarah said, sounding like she couldn’t cry anymore. “I hate this country.”
Me, too. “But, hey, we’re alive. Right now that counts for a lot.”
“Thank you,” she said. Sarah then yawned widely.
“You should get some rest,” I suggested. “You’re exhausted. I am too.”
“I know,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I just don’t want to be alone right now. This big house is too quiet.” Sarah looked down at her lap for a moment, then back up at me. “Is it alright if I sleep in here?”
“What?” I said, surprised. “I mean . . . sure. If you want.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” she said more sternly. “I just don’t want to be by myself. Okay?”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I’m sure,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “Lay down.” Sarah thanked me again, gave me a small kiss on the cheek, and slid under the covers on the right side of the bed. I turned the lamp back off and laid my head on the pillow. This time sleep quickly overtook me.
It was daylight out when I awoke. My clock was still smashed on the floor, so I wasn’t sure what time it was. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the events of the night before came back to me. I relived, in my mind, watching Wheeler die, and I quietly swore to myself.
There are always doubts when a teammate dies. You question yourself, and your confidence is shattered. Did I do everything I could? Was there any way it could have been avoided? Did something I do cause him to get killed? The hardest thing to do after losing one of your own is to go back into combat again, burdened with the knowledge that your surviving teammates are all counting on you. I’ve known guys that could never get over that hurdle, and I’ve seen it end careers.
In my case, that wasn’t really an option. There was nothing I’d have liked more than to simply quit and go home, but it seemed like the only way to go home early was in a body bag.
It was then that I noticed something warm and soft pressed against me. Sarah, still asleep, had wrapped her arm and one leg around me. She quietly slept, her face a few inches from my right ear, her auburn hair splashed across the pillow.
God, she’s beautiful. Sarah opened her eyes then, as if my thinking about her woke her up.
“Hey,” I said, looking into her eyes.
“Hey, you,” she replied. “You make a good pillow.”
“I’m glad you think so. I can’t feel my right arm.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said with a little smile. “You want me to move?”
“Not really,” I confessed. “This is . . . nice. A nice way to wake up.”
Sarah agreed. “Yeah,” she said, squeezing me a bit tighter. “So tell me. Why is it every time you almost get your ass shot off you end up in bed with me?”
I had no idea how to answer that. I just looked at her, mouth slightly open, and she giggled. “Um . . .”
“Yes?” she asked.
“Because you’re the Queen of Crazy Town?” I suggested tentatively.
Sarah gently pushed my face away and laughed. “I can see where I gave you that impression. What time is it, anyway?”
I shrugged. “My clock is still broken.”
“Well . . . they’ll call before they send a car,” Sarah said. “We could be here all day. They’re trying to limit traffic outside the compound during daylight hours or when the roads are busy. You know, because of the checkpoints.” Sarah trailed off and exhaled heavily.
“Listen,” I said. “You did good out there. You weren’t trained for that kind of job, but you held it together. You did what you had to do. No hesitation, nothing. I’m impressed.” I really was.
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not,” I said sternly. “Your quick thinking is probably the reason more of us didn’t get killed. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. She kissed me sweetly.
Smiling, I turned toward her a little and gently brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. She closed her eyes as I caressed her cheek. Her right hand slid up to my shoulder, pulling me closer to her. I scootched over a bit and kissed her, deeply. She made a very soft, pleasurable sigh and ran her fingers through my buzzed hair.
I rolled onto my back, pulling Sarah with me. Straddling me, she only stopped kissing me for a moment and pulled her shirt off over her head. She leaned forward again, kissing me passionately, her hair tickling my face and my neck.
Sarah and I made love for a long time, and, for a while, I was able to stop thinking about all the things that were bothering me. Like how horrible it was that we were fooling around like a couple of high-school kids on prom night just hours after we watched one of my guys bleed to death. Or how I treated her the night I got drunk. Or what was going to happen between us after this. However it played out, it was going to be complicated.
At that moment, though, with her in my arms, I didn’t worry about any of that. I was alive, goddamn it, and so was she. For the time being, that was all that mattered.
VALENTINE
Fort Saradia National Historical Site
April 18
1230
I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me, looking down at the sheet of paper in my hand. Hunter had given it to me after Sarah and I returned from Safe House 5.
It was a BOLO, or “be on the lookout” alert, passed down from Gordon Willis. The photocopy was about a young woman named Jillian Del Toro. She had been an intern at the US Embassy in Zubara, on loan to the State Department from the Department of Agriculture. She was a low-level employee but apparently had access to one James Fiore, the assistant ambassador. Fiore had been killed by the enemy after the US Embassy was evacuated. According to the dossier I’d been given, Jill Del Toro was apparently selling embassy secrets to General Al Sabah’s intelligence people and had gotten Fiore killed.
Del Toro was still at large. She wasn’t considered dangerous, but she was a traitor, and Gordon wanted her brought in, dead or alive.
I studied the picture of the young woman. Miss Del Toro was twenty-five years old, fresh out of college. She was beautiful, with dark hair, bright eyes, and a very pretty face. Maybe it was just me, but she didn’t look like a traitor. I was probably being naïve, I thought, but something about this whole thing didn’t sit right.
Of course, very little of what was passed down from Gordon Willis sat right with me. I tossed the BOLO on my bed and sat. As I did so, I noticed the strange key that I’d found in Adar’s safe, still sitting where I’d left it.
I reached over and picked up the ancient-looking trinket and examined it again. Turning the knob on the base caused dozens of tiny pins to pop out of nearly invisible recesses in the object’s shaft. I twisted the knob the other way, and the tiny pins smoothly disappeared.
Sarah and I hadn’t really gotten any sleep, and I was tired. I was off for the rest of the day and decided then that I was going to take a nap. Before I could lie down, there was a soft knock on my door. The door opened and Sarah stepped into my room, quietly closing the door behind her.