“That’s good.”
Justin took another sip of his water. Then, he glanced at his watch and at the television screen mounted to the ceiling ten feet away. It was tuned to CNN.
“You shouldn’t miss this.” Justin drew Abdul’s attention to the news edition, about to start in a few seconds.
“What, American politics?”
“Be quiet and listen.”
The anchorwoman, a voluptuous blonde, opened up the newscast with breaking news. In a clear, solemn, yet somber tone, she read from the teleprompter. “The identity of a senior official with the Canadian Intelligence Service was revealed in today’s edition of The New York Times.” The screen switched to a picture of Johnson. “Ms. Claire Johnson, the CIS Director General of Intelligence for the Western and North Africa Division, is suspected of leaking information about covert operations to secret intelligence agencies of several countries, including the CIA. The latest of these leaks surrounds the alleged assassination attempt on the US President during her trip to attend the G-20 meeting in Tripoli, Libya.”
“I can’t believe you did this.” Abdul’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
“I offered Johnson an exit option. She didn’t take it.”
“She’ll have to retire?”
“Absolutely. She’s burned. She has to go away. For good.”
“But won’t the CIS inquiry link you to this leak?”
“The inquiry will show I had a disagreement with Johnson on how she handled certain aspects of our operations. However, this job was done by someone else.”
“Who?”
Justin smiled. “Someone the CIS won’t find.”
Abdul did not insist. Justin wanted to tell Abdul how the Mossad had agreed to leak the information about Johnson to their trusted sources in The New York Times. The price Justin had to pay for this leak was not cheap. He had to confirm that Prince Al-Farhan, one of the most wanted people on the Mossad’s hit list, was terminated. The laptop of Prince’s aide, Zakir, contained a recording of all the events taking place aboard the Prince’s Boeing 707. The paranoid Prince and his cameras installed everywhere. I just hope that recording doesn’t end up on YouTube or Wikileaks.
“Hi, guys,” Carrie said in a bubbly voice. Her face radiated with happiness. “Guess what Thomas did?”
“Really? He proposed? That’s wonderful,” Justin said.
“Yes, he just did. On the phone… but he did it.”
She held Justin close in a tight embrace, under the gawking eyes of Abdul.
“Congratulations,” he told her when she sat next to them. “When’s the big day?”
“Oh, we haven’t gone that far.”
Her voice faded as she looked at her leather briefcase on the floor.
“There are so many things to do.” Her left hand rested over the briefcase handle.
Justin understood her concern. Abdul did not. “Yes, yes,” Abdul said, “a wedding has so many preparations. The dress, the place, the guest lists, the photographer…”
Carrie tuned him out. She was tempted to open her briefcase and look again at the photograph of which every detail was engraved in her memory. Last night she had received an envelope sent from Romanov. It contained a single photograph of a wooden cross placed upon a tomb. The inscription on the cross read: O’Connor. An address was scribbled on the back. Northern Grozny, Chechnya. If this is Romanov’s idea of a sick joke, I’m going to kill the bastard, Carrie had thought more than once. But deep down she felt the photograph was real. She just hoped the tomb contained her father, the man she had searched for most of her life. After I see mom and Susan, it’s time to visit Grozny.
“Is it time to go?” She looked at her wristwatch, in order to hide her watery eyes rather than check out the time.
“Yes, we should go,” Justin said with a nod.
“When will you be back?” Abdul asked.
“Oh, I’m planning on taking a long break.”
“Vacations in some place warm?”
“That too. But first I need to attend to some family affairs.”
“Family affairs? I thought you said you had no family.”
“I do have a family now,” Justin said.
“Eventually, he’ll go sailing with Anna.” Carrie smiled.
“Yes, I should do that. If she finds out I went to France without her, I’ll be in big trouble.”
“So, everything is well now?”
“Oh, yeah. She’ll be glad to finally see me.”
Justin stood up and stretched his hand toward Abdul. “Goodbye, my friend.”
Abdul spread his arms and hugged Justin. “Be safe.” A moment later he added, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope to see you soon.”
“We’ll miss you, Abdul,” Carrie said, as Abdul embraced her as well. “Thanks for everything.”
Justin pulled the handle of his suitcase. Carrie picked up her briefcase.
“Time flies,” Justin said, “but it won’t be long before we’re back.”
Author’s Note
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Acknowledgements
This work would have not been possible without the great support of my wife and son. I would like to thank Ty Hutchinson, Kenneth Teicher, Claude Dancourt, J.E. Seymour, Kevan O'Meara and April Plummer for their helpful suggestions.