The political spin made Kealey sick; the troops wouldn’t even be there without the president’s approval, and suddenly he was being portrayed as their guardian, the man watching out for them.
But he knew voicing this opinion wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he kept his mouth shut. He doubted whether the president would care what he thought, anyway, as Brenneman had won reelection the previous day, with a staggering 58 percent of the popular vote, defeating Democratic governor Richard Fiske in a landslide.
In the meantime, the insurgent activity in Iraq had returned to normal levels, aided in part by public appeals for peace by leading Shiite and Sunni clerics, including Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, easily the most revered religious leader in the region. The U.S. commanders had done their part to restore the status quo, which was about the best they could hope for.
As they walked, Harper brought Kealey up to speed on the most recent news. First, he mentioned the ongoing hunt for Vanderveen’s traveling companion, the woman inadvertently photographed by MI5 in London. Since that single sighting, she had disappeared without a trace. The Agency still had no idea who she was, and although the surveillance shots had been distributed to a number of friendly security services, no one was holding out much hope for her capture. Kealey didn’t speak as Harper relayed this information, but privately, he sided with the majority: the woman would probably never be found. The Agency just didn’t have enough background information to conduct an efficient search, and a few distant photographs were not enough to build on. Out of all the collaborators, it looked as if one had walked away clean. While this wasn’t really acceptable, Kealey knew there wasn’t much they could do to resolve the situation; the woman had simply covered her tracks too well.
Moving on, Harper laid out the specifics of Operation Clean Sweep, a massive endeavor involving 1,400 U.S. soldiers, including units from 10th Mountain, the 75th Ranger Regiment, and the 82nd Airborne. Clean Sweep was primarily geared toward cross-border raids into Syria in search of arms caches, and the operation had proved wildly successful. More than thirty tons of small arms had been seized, then transported back to Iraq, where they were either stored or destroyed. The joint U.S.-Iraqi forces seemed to have regained dominance on the ground, but there was still the question of Hakim Rudaki and his cousin, Reza Bagheri.
“So the Bureau’s done with him?” Kealey asked.
Harper nodded. “As far as they’re concerned, everything that came out of Rudaki’s mouth was a lie. They’ve washed their hands of it… or at least, they’ve tried to. This has really hurt their reputation, especially since it wasn’t that long ago that they had to deal with Hanssen and all the damage he did.”
“What do you think?”
“I think Rudaki might have given us some truth, if only by accident.”
“Because of his cousin,” Kealey said.
“Exactly. The defense minister was supposedly passing us info because he was unhappy with the regime’s attempts to disrupt U.S. policy in Iraq by killing Tabrizi and the prime minister. Of course, it wasn’t true; Iran was never involved. But if Bagheri had nothing to do with it, why would Rudaki bring him up to begin with?”
“He needed a cover for the lies he was selling us,” Kealey pointed out. “Maybe the cousin was just the most convenient excuse.”
“Maybe,” Harper muttered. “We’re still talking to him. I think Bagheri might know a lot more than he’s letting on, so we’re looking for leverage. If anything comes of it, I’ll let you know. The question is, would you want to be involved?”
Kealey looked over. “Is that what you came here to ask me?”
“No, because that would imply a temporary role.” The other man paused. “Look, I want you back in the fold. What’s it going to take to get you back to Langley?”
Kealey brushed some snow off the wooden railing, watching absently as it drifted down to the frozen surface of the pond. “John, it’s a possibility. I want to come back, I think, but for now, my place is here.”
“She won’t see you, Ryan. She probably won’t want to see you for a very long time.”
“Then I’ll wait,” Kealey said simply. “As long as it takes.”
Harper thought about saying something but decided against it. He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting over to the manor house and the black government SUVs parked nearby. “Okay. I understand. When you’re ready, give me a call.”
Kealey nodded. Their eyes met, and they shook hands firmly. “Have a safe trip. Say hi to Julie for me.”
“Will do.”
Kealey watched him go, but before long, his gaze drifted back to the house. For a brief instant, he thought he saw a face swathed in bandages at one of the third-story windows, but then it was gone.
He stayed that way for a long time, staring out at the frozen pond, just thinking about things.
What he had said was the plain truth, but he knew Harper didn’t really understand. Kealey would stay in town and drive out here every day forever if that was what it took. He wasn’t sure how Naomi had come to mean so much to him in so short a time, but he couldn’t deny his feelings.
All he wanted was to see her again. There were things he wanted to say, of course, but mostly, he just wanted to see her. He thought he’d give anything to see her.
By the time he turned and finished crossing the bridge, a light snow had started to fall. He had almost reached his truck when the heavy oak door cracked open behind him. He turned instantly at the sound.
It was Everett, and she seemed relieved to have caught him. “She’s changed her mind, Ryan. I think she was just waiting for Mr. Harper to go. She’ll see you now.”
CHAPTER 58
LOUDOUN COUNTY, VIRGINIA
Kealey followed her up the narrow staircase. They continued past the second floor, up to the third. When the house was first built, the top floor had been used as a storage area for commercial goods, but since the extensive renovation in the mid-1970s, the open space had been divided into four large rooms separated by a single hall, each with its own private bathroom. As he followed her down the corridor, he was distinctly aware of a growing unease; Naomi had finally agreed to see him, but he had no idea what to expect.
He wondered if she hated him, if she blamed him for not taking the shot before Vanderveen could cut her. It was a distinct possibility, he knew, though the thought was almost too painful to bear. From her point of view, it must have seemed so simple. He had a gun; Vanderveen had a knife. She couldn’t know that Vanderveen had given him no target, that he’d done everything possible to keep her body between them. Nor could he have explained it to her, at least not to any purpose. It would have sounded like an excuse, nothing more.
The hall ran the length of the building. They were halfway down when Everett stopped and turned to face him. It seemed as though her genial nature was relegated to the ground floors; up here, she was a much harder person. He watched as she adopted a serious, clinical expression, and knew at once that she was about to relay unwanted information.
“Ryan, before you go in, I want to make you aware of a few things. I know you’ve expressed no interest in her specific injuries, but—”
“It’s not that I don’t have an interest,” he said. His voice was low but firm; he wanted to be clear on this. “It’s just that I’m here for her no matter what. I don’t see that knowing the specifics makes a difference.”