We should not waste time on this. Though if his birthday had worked, Command would have to reconsider allowing him into our network.
A second later, Jill’s face cracked a grin after she typed in “pretzels &beer” and got in. Jill checked her watch; six minutes to hack in. She beamed and mentally patted herself on the back.
He often mentioned that phrase. I never understood what it meant.
“It’s what we had for dinner on our first date. Pretzels and beer at the Cubs game.”
It is sweet but pathetic, like his entire life revolves around that day.
“It’s momentous event for him, right up there with the first day of football season. What can I say? He loves me.”
Jill paused. Roen did love her. He was an idiot and was terrible at showing it, but it dawned on her right there that his life really did revolve around her.
Yet not enough to stay when you begged him to.
“I blame his alien and his messed up view of how best to protect his family.”
Jill rummaged through his files. Being a computer nerd in his previous life, Roen was meticulous with his systems. While a slob in reality, his virtual cleanliness was unsurpassed. She was able to find important documents on his hard drive within seconds and soon had schematics of a dozen Genjix bases laid out before her. She was surprised at how thorough Roen was with his surveillance. His specialty rarely ventured toward the softer side of covert operations. The photos he had nabbed were first rate, though.
“My man is growing,” she murmured.
Better late than never.
“He’s still one of the best agents.”
That I concede and take a fair amount of credit for. When Sonya first trained him, he was two left feet and no brains. Now, he is a no-brained killer on par with Sonya.
“Could you get any more backhanded with your compliments?”
The day you forgive him, I might too.
“You’re sweet, Baji. You have a funny way of showing it, but you are.”
She pulled up his mission itinerary and was surprised to discover that he had been very busy. Within the past eighteen months, he had ventured to forty-two places all over the world. And by the looks of them – Kurdistan, Siberia, Mongolia, Libya, among others – none were vacation hotspots. For the next hour, Jill delved into what he had been up to for the past two years.
It began with Roen chasing clues to an obscure Genjix reference known as Phase III. There were some unexplainable trips that she found curious that had no notes attached. There was one trip where he flew from Istanbul, back to Virginia for two days, and then back out again to Istanbul. Jill furrowed her brow. It seemed he was funding his frequent flier miles with a savings account that she didn’t know about.
“That damn guy,” she growled. She shook her fist in the air. “Roen! You’re in so much trouble when I get my hands on you.”
You hide one from him too.
“That’s different. I use mine to buy shoes and pretty sundresses. A woman needs her own little spending account. He uses his to jet set around the world.”
It says here he bribed a courier to stow away on an Air India transport. Hardly jet setting.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Damn you, Roen!
“Much better.”
On page nine of his expenditures, his account ran dry, and he subsidized his lifestyle by running guns on the black market.
Jill shook her head. “My husband is a felon.”
Quite ingenious. I did not think he had it in him.
“Look, he broke out of a Pakistani prison last December.”
That explains why he did not call Cameron on Christmas.
“Now I feel kind of bad for yelling at him about being a bad parent.”
The data began to paint a picture of several large industries purposely releasing large amounts of toxins, carbon, and different variants of methyl into the air. It was a conspiracy that he estimated had been occurring for the over fifty years. Jill could see the case he was building. The last entry was three months ago when he discovered the name of Phase III: Quasiform.
“What a busy bee,” Jill exclaimed, closing the documents and opening the next folder. She was startled to find dozens of photographs of her. Most of them were surveillance shots from afar on the Hill. Shockingly, some of them were her on assignment, including at the United Nations, at the London G8 conference, and at the assault on the Genjix naval yard in Newfoundland. Somehow, he always found time to shadow her missions. Then it dawned on her the lengths that he had gone to be there for her. Her eyes began to water.
I give him credit for who he is. He is many things, but he does love you and shows it in his own way.
The last folder was pictures of Cameron. Hundreds of them. As far as Jill could tell, Roen practically had Cameron’s life chronicled daily in pictures. That wasn’t unexpected. He had developed an interest in photography when his son was born. What was interesting, though, was that he had somehow snapped pictures of Cameron even after he had left. There were pictures of Cameron at preschool, playing at the park, even playing in their condo.
Sadly, those pictures stopped the day she sent Cameron to Louis and Lee Ann’s. Working for the senator and the Prophus had just gotten to be too much for a single mother with a toddler. She had received a harsh phone call from him about sending Cameron away without his permission. He had received an even harsher retort from her. And then they hadn’t spoken for three months.
Later that night, Jill stood outside the missile silo entrance and stared at the stars. There were a lot more of them popping out here in the boonies than there were in the city. She missed stars. There was something magical about them as they filled the blackness of the universe. Quasar was somewhere up there, filled with billions of her people, waiting for Baji to come home.
Technically, you cannot see Quasar right now.
“You’re ruining my moment of serenity with facts. Stop it. You think Roen and Cameron can see these same stars?”
Cameron maybe. It is daytime where Roen is.
Jill looked to the west at the furthest star on the horizon. Then, with a tear falling down her face, she took out her phone and called Lee Ann.
Her mother’s voice was a welcome sound after tonight’s horror. “Hey, Jill, how’s my favorite daughter?”
“Still hanging in there,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. Lee Ann had this crazy ability to always know how she felt even if they were halfway around the world. She couldn’t let her mother catch on. She didn’t want what could be their last conversation to be sad.
“Is everything alright in DC?” Lee Ann asked. “There was something in the news about gang violence on the streets tonight. You’re staying home, right?”
“Yes,” Jill said. Of course the Genjix would have the news blanketed with alibis before their assault tonight. The less her mother knew, the better. “How’s my little guy?” she asked.
“He eats as much as Louis and is already growing out of his old clothes. Louis and I are arguing about enrolling him in public or private school. There’s this wonderful magnet school here that teaches French Immersion. Of course, your father thinks it’s a waste…”
Jill didn’t hear the rest. These were decisions that she was supposed to make. She should be the one grousing about his growth spurts or worrying what schools he should attend. She stayed silent for most of the conversation, just listening to Lee Ann go on about Cameron. Finally, she asked for her son.
“Mommy?” Cam’s beautiful voice came on the line.
“Hey, buddy,” she sniffed. “How’s it going?”