“Interested?” Harrison asked.
She eyed his wet shirt and the specks of dirt clinging to his skin. “You’re filthy.”
“I’m jumping into the shower. Care to join me?”
“Maybe,” Angie said, reaching behind and pulling Harrison’s hands from her butt. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”
She bolted from the foyer. Harrison started after her, catching her as she reached the stairs. He snagged a foot, tripping her onto the steps. She turned onto her back, screaming in mock fear as Harrison dragged her toward him.
15
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
Dark clouds rolling in from the west were accompanied by a brisk morning wind as Jake Harrison’s car stopped at the main entrance to the George Bush Center for Intelligence. One of the armed security guards verified he was on the day’s visitor list, then waved his car through. After pulling into the parking garage, Harrison entered the lobby of the CIA headquarters and took the elevator to the seventh floor. After informing the director’s secretary he had arrived, he was asked to wait in a conference room down the hall.
Three others soon arrived: CIA Director Christine O’Connor, Deputy Director Monroe Bryant, and Deputy Director for Operations PJ Rolow.
“Welcome back, Jake,” Christine said as she took her seat at the head of the table.
Bryant and Rolow likewise welcomed him back to the agency. The conference room door opened again, and two women entered. The first was Deputy Director for Analysis Tracey McFarland, carrying two manila folders. The second was an attractive six-foot-tall Middle Eastern woman with straight black hair falling across her shoulders, wearing a formfitting shirt and short skirt emphasizing her long, lean legs. Harrison’s eyes narrowed when he spotted his former partner.
Khalila had been one of two agents assigned to assist him during his first stint in the CIA, with Khalila accompanying him whenever leads to the whereabouts of Lonnie Mixell took him to the Middle East. According to Rolow, Khalila’s contacts in the region and linguistic skills were the best the agency had to offer.
McFarland greeted Harrison after taking her seat, but Khalila said nothing after settling into her chair. She folded her arms across her chest, projecting a why-am-I-here attitude, much like she’d done the first time they met. Harrison also wondered why she was here, considering he had decided he would never work with her again if he had anything to say about it. Then he remembered he hadn’t voiced his concerns to anyone, instead making a pact with Khalila after she had almost put a bullet into him.
Months ago in Sochi, it had taken Harrison a moment to realize that Khalila had her pistol aimed at him and not the perpetrator they had run down. He recalled the indecision in her eyes as she debated whether to kill him — her own partner! It was then that he realized there was something critical about Khalila that she and Rolow were hiding, something they didn’t want discovered. He had learned too much during their trip to Syria, where it had become apparent that she had a special status in the Arab world.
During those few seconds in Sochi, with Khalila’s finger on the pistol trigger, the warning from his other partner, Pat Kendall, had echoed in his mind.
The DDO and DD kept Khalila at the farm for two training cycles, trying to figure out what to do with her, then didn’t send her on any meaningful missions for years. That means either they don’t trust her or she’s too valuable to risk except in extreme circumstances. Now that Khalila has been released into the field, she’s lost more partners than socks, each one dead in suspicious circumstances.
After Khalila almost killed him, there was no doubt in his mind what had happened to her previous partners — the ones who had learned too much about her.
The conversation after their encounter in Sochi had been short and the agreement shorter. Harrison would not reveal anything he had learned, or would learn, about her, and she wouldn’t kill him. As a corollary to the agreement, Harrison had decided he would never work with Khalila again. With his departure from the agency shortly thereafter, once Mixell had supposedly been killed, he hadn’t relayed his thoughts to Rolow.
After a bit of small talk, Christine got down to business.
“Your primary goal is to track down Mixell. We know he tried to kill the secretary of the Navy, but we’re concerned about what else he’s up to. He doesn’t fit the lone-assassin-for-hire profile. The attempted murder of Brenda Verbeck is likely tied to something bigger. We need to find out what that is.”
Christine turned to McFarland, who handed Harrison one of the two folders she had brought to the meeting.
McFarland walked Harrison through the material. “Here’s a summary of what we’ve got regarding the SecNav’s attempted assassination. You’ll find a photo of Mixell as he’s leaving the parking garage about a minute after the attempt, plus a report showing Mixell’s DNA on the rifle used to kill McNeil, which he left behind in the hotel room.”
She pushed the second folder across the table. “In addition to McNeil, another former SEAL, Gary Nagle, was murdered a few days ago. There’s speculation within the directorate that the two SEAL killings are related and that McNeil was the real target and not the SecNav. It’s conjecture at this point, but since the first SEAL was killed nearby in Burke, we want you to see what you can figure out. Based on your military record, it appears you worked with both men, correct?”
Harrison nodded. “We were on the same SEAL team a while back.”
“While we search for additional relationships and leads,” McFarland said, “we’d like you and Khalila to check in on both investigations.”
Harrison glanced at his former partner before shifting his eyes to Rolow, then asked the question that had been on his mind since Khalila walked into the room. “Why Khalila? I don’t need a translator or a partner with Middle East contacts.”
Rolow replied, “Mixell’s two previous plots were funded by Middle Eastern terrorist organizations. Since Mixell is implicated, we thought it prudent that Khalila be involved from the outset. Besides, she’s one of the best field officers we’ve got.”
Harrison couldn’t disagree. He’d seen Khalila in action, watching her leap over a ten-foot-tall wall with catlike dexterity. She was an expert marksman and even more proficient with knives, which she had wielded on several occasions during their previous assignment. None of that mattered, however, if he couldn’t trust her. Not wanting to have that conversation in front of Khalila, he acquiesced.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Besides,” Rolow added, “you two did a great job tracking Mixell down before. Why mess with a winning formula? I’d also like to point out that Mixell got away. I’d say your job isn’t finished.”
“I understand,” Harrison replied. There was no one more motivated to find Mixell and put him behind bars than he was.
Christine interjected, changing the subject. “John McNeil’s funeral is at Arlington this afternoon. Are you planning to attend?”
“I am,” Harrison replied. “His widow gave me a call. She wants to speak with me afterward.”
“I’ll be attending as well,” Christine replied. “I’ll see you there.”
She looked to Bryant and Rolow in case they had anything else to discuss.
No other issues were raised, so Rolow said, “You know the drill, Jake, same as before. You’re being assigned to the special operations group within the special activities center. Pick up your ID and check out a weapon and any other gear you need. I’ll leave it to you and Khalila, but I’d start with Nagle. Find out what you can before you attend McNeil’s funeral. Any questions so far?”