As far as a few days off went, the timing was excellent. Maddy had a gymnastics competition this weekend in Maryland, one of a half dozen national meets her team participated in each year, and she and Angie were flying in early to see the sights in D.C. He’d be able to spend a few days with them.
“Thanks for the room at the Intercontinental,” Harrison said to Rolow. Upon accepting the agency’s job offer a second time, the DDO had arranged a room for him at the upscale hotel in southwest D.C., where the agency kept a block of rooms reserved for its use, until Harrison rented a place somewhere.
As the meeting wrapped up, Harrison’s thoughts returned to Khalila’s meeting with Abdallah bin Laden and his three companions, which she had failed to mention. It was a delicate issue. He had promised Khalila that anything he learned about her would be kept to himself. But his concern about her loyalty to the CIA was growing. He needed to put his doubt to rest, determining whether or not he could trust her with more certainty. If she really was working more with al-Qaeda than the CIA, the agency needed to know.
Christine stood, signaling the meeting was over. Khalila was the first to depart, striding down the hallway toward the elevator. She was clearly in a mood following her meeting with the DDO.
Harrison took advantage of Khalila’s departure and approached Christine as the others filed from the room.
“Do you have a moment?” he asked.
“A few,” she said.
Harrison closed Christine’s door after following her into her office. She noticed the precaution, but kept quiet as she settled into the chair behind her desk. As he stood before her, searching for the best way to start, she gestured to the chairs before her desk. He took a seat, then began.
“I’m not really sure about Khalila,” he said, “regarding where her loyalty lies.”
He went on to relay what Khalila had told him on their trip to Syria, when she explained how she moved freely about Langley without drawing suspicion from her Middle East contacts; that she provided information to both sides, although the information she was allowed to provide to the other side was screened and approved by McFarland.
Christine listened intently until he reached the salient part. “Khalila met with Osama’s eldest son, Abdallah, two days ago in Kuwait.”
“Really,” Christine said. “You think she would have mentioned that.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not damning information, though,” Christine added. “That’s her job — to cultivate relationships beneficial to the agency, and gaining access to the bin Laden family and their associates would be pretty high on the list of agency desires. Perhaps they discussed nothing of relevance to our meeting today.”
“That’s possible,” Harrison said. “But I also got the feeling there’s something going on between Khalila and Abdallah. When they met, they seemed a bit… chummy.”
Christine smiled. “That’s not an indictment either. Khalila is a beautiful woman, and men tend to be a bit… chummy with women as attractive as she is.”
Harrison had to admit that Christine was right, and she would certainly know firsthand. She had fended off guys interested in her the entire time they dated.
He assessed Christine’s responses thus far. The conversation wasn’t unfolding as he had expected, with Christine pointing out the lack of concrete evidence that Khalila shouldn’t be trusted.
“However,” Christine said, “I have my doubts about Khalila as well. There’s definitely something about her that the DDO is hiding. But unless you’ve got something else, there’s nothing specific for me to look into.”
Harrison recalled the video he had recorded outside the Al Hamra Tower, when Khalila introduced herself to Abdallah and the three men, then talked for a short while before heading into the building. He was too far away for the recording to pick up the conversation, but the agency might have the tools to determine what was said.
“I have a short video of when she met with Abdallah and three other men. It’s from across the street, but perhaps you can decipher what they discussed.”
“Send me the video,” Christine replied, then picked up her phone and dialed Tracey McFarland.
When Tracey answered, Christine said, “I’ll be sending a short video over with a meeting between Khalila and four men in Kuwait. I’d like you to identify the men and augment the audio, if possible, to determine what was discussed.”
“No problem,” McFarland said. “How urgent is this?”
“Sooner rather than later,” Christine replied. “But don’t bump anything critical.”
“I’ll get someone working on it as soon as I have an opening.”
50
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
An hour after the meeting at Langley, as Jake Harrison waited outside Terminal C of Reagan National Airport, he checked his watch. The flight with Angie and Maddy aboard had landed, and he was expecting a text message anytime now. A short while later, Maddy contacted him, letting him know they were almost at the gate. Her text was followed by one from Angie on a separate chat.
We’re here. Looking forward to some time alone.
Harrison was too, but he’d been so busy at Langley with debriefs from his trip to Kuwait, plus catching up on potential leads the team had on Mixell, that he hadn’t planned ahead. He had only the single room at the Intercontinental, with a pullout bed for Maddy. Although a silent jaunt in the bathroom might suffice, it wasn’t his idea of a romantic evening together.
He had a few SEAL friends in the area, but having Maddy hang out with a burly SEAL for an evening probably wasn’t her idea of a good time, plus he’d have to come up with a cover story explaining why they were pawning her off on a stranger. Nothing came to mind.
Another stream of passengers began exiting Terminal C, and he spotted Angie and Maddy in the crowd. His daughter ran and jumped into his arms. He’d been away from home for only a short while, but Maddy took after her mother when it came to impulsiveness and exuberance. He recalled their last meeting in D.C., when Angie had done the same thing; she’d sprinted across the lobby of the Hotel Washington and leaped into his arms, straddling his waist with her legs as she locked her lips onto his. The lobby occupants — distinguished guests wearing suits and elegant dresses — had stared at the couple, but Angie seemed not to notice or care, her eyes locked on to his, an infectious grin on her face.
Angie was more reserved in Maddy’s presence, giving him a short but passionate kiss. They collected their luggage and headed to the car.
“What would you like for lunch?” Harrison asked as they pulled onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway.
Angie didn’t care and Maddy wanted a cheeseburger, so Harrison chose a sandwich shop near the hotel, which also served pizza and burgers.
After dropping off their luggage in their room, they went to lunch, slipping into a booth with Angie and Maddy facing Harrison. While they waited for the server, Harrison asked whether Maddy was ready for her meet.
“Not really,” Maddy said. “I’m still having trouble with my beam routine. I can’t consistently hit my back handsprings.”
Harrison had no idea how to help, so he offered some encouraging words. “Just do your best.”
After placing their order, they reviewed their plans for the day: a few hours of sightseeing near the National Mall. After confirming the details, Maddy excused herself to go to the bathroom.
He couldn’t talk with Angie over the phone about how the search for Mixell was going, so she took the opportunity to inquire.