by Fiona Quinn
But his heart was hammering in his chest.
He was surprised by what she said.
“Sometimes, I feel like humans aren’t making a lot of progress. I’ve spent a decade studying words written by women two hundred years ago. Time doesn’t really change much in the human condition. I share with the characters many of the same struggles. There’s a passage that’s coming up for me right now.”
In the Unit, words were precise, straightforward, and linear. Challenging subjects were faced head-on. This was a learned skill that was built on trust.
Ty had found that kind of honesty and straightforwardness wasn’t part of most people’s communication styles. Most people he knew filtered their conversations through the prism of social correctness.
Kira was that way, societally polite in dealing with stressful subjects.
White had told Ty to pay attention to the literary stories that Kira mentioned in conversation. White explained, though they often seemed to come from left field, Kira expressed her inner machinations through literary metaphor.
Literary Rorschach tests, White had called it.
“What novel are you thinking about right now? Any scene in particular?” he asked.
She peeked up at him through her insanely long thick lashes and laughed softly. “Don’t let this freak you out—”
He shook his head.
“It was a scene from Pride and Prejudice.”
Ty nodded for Kira to continue.
“The main character is a woman named Elizabeth Bennett. There was this dreadful man.” She straightened her arms to lift up and look him in the eye. Her eyebrows raised, making her eyelids pull wide. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s about the general position I find myself.”
Ty nodded, not wanting to distract her from telling him what was going on.
She tucked back down into his arms. “This dreadful man proposed to Elizabeth, and she turned him down. Her mother was furious and exhorted Elizabeth to do the right thing by the family and marry him. Her father—remember this is a male-run society, the expectation was that the daughters would follow their father’s directives.”
Ty clenched his back teeth, making his jaw bulge. He didn’t like where this was going, and he hadn’t read that far in the book yet, so he wasn’t sure if the dad had forced the situation on his daughter.
“‘From this day, you must be a stranger to one of your parents,’ Mr. Bennet had said. ‘Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.’’ She swallowed. “That scene keeps bubbling up in my mind.”
“The dad was opposed to her marrying for the sake of the family?”
“And it was easy enough for him to do. You see, Elizabeth, her mother, and her sisters would become homeless as soon as the father died. It was part of the way the will was written to leave the property and money to a male heir. Elizabeth marrying Mr. Collins would be the economic security that they needed for the future. As long as the dad was alive, they’d be fine.”
“So the dad would never suffer the consequences, and he was okay with his family being destitute when he was gone?”
“He wasn’t the most ethical and loving of parents.”
“But why are you thinking about that?”
“It’s not exactly the same state of affairs for me, but I’ve always been drawn to this novel for that very sentence. My dad, when he was alive, wanted America for me. In fact, when he died, he left me with enough money that finances would never be a reason for me to make my choices. My mother wants Qatar for me. She feels that beyond finances, my fortunes, and the family’s security lies there. So my dad is dead. He suffers nothing from my choices. My mother is alive, and she would face repercussions for my actions.”
“Where is she now, your mom?”
“So in Qatar, it is often a thing that families live in community. After my dad’s death, Mom moved into the family complex to be near her sisters-in-law, and to make sure that our family’s honor wasn’t tarnished, her being a woman without male supervision here in the States.”
“And…?”
“And, as I’ve told you, my family wishes me to return to Qatar now that my education is completed.”
“What do you want to do?”
Kira didn’t answer.
Because of this assignment, Ty was listening to her in a way he’d never listened to any of the women who had moved through his life. She was a tactical puzzle to be solved. Everything she said was essential to mission success. He had to focus and listen and learn from her.
He liked to focus, and listen, and learn from her.
This was a revelation.
She intrigued him.
Ty asked, “The mother’s reaction to Elizabeth was, ‘marry the man, or I will never speak to you again,’ making her basically an orphan?”
“Yes, exactly. And rudderless.”
“Kira, what do you want for you?” Ty held his breath. What he realized he wanted at that moment was for her to look him in the eye and say, “You, Ty. I want you. I want an us.”
He wasn’t at all surprised when he concluded that’s what he wanted for himself, as brief and as manipulated as their time together had been.
Wasn’t that just another man putting external pressure on her? He didn’t want Kira to move to Qatar and lead that life, but he also acknowledged that he wasn’t from that culture, didn’t understand it, and wasn’t in a position to make judgments.
“What do you want to do?” Ty repeated.
“I want to find peace.” Her face drooped. Her shoulders sagged. It was as if Ty was watching her melt into the pillows with no energy to keep herself erect.
In his mind, Ty was both singing a song of gratitude to Johnna White that she’d put him on a path that would cross with Kira’s, and he cursed White for the same reason.
Joy and pain were strange bedfellows.
“Ty, I’m sorry. I want nothing more than to cuddle in bed with you all day.” Her lashes veiled her eyes, and she didn’t look at him when she murmured. She glanced at the clock.
Six a.m. He’d have to take Rory out for a run soon.
“This is my last day before we leave. I have to finish getting my ducks in a row and get packed.”
“Kira, meeting you has been wonderful,” he said. “I know you have a heavy decision in front of you.” He reached for her hand. And though it cost him, Ty said, “Whatever you choose, I support you.” He glanced over and saw the edges of her lips twitch momentarily up.
“Is that funny?”
“Literature parallels.”
“More Austen?” he asked.
“I’m thinking of an earlier work. Some scholars attribute the story to Chaucer, some to Gower, but a question was posed to King Arthur by a hag who had the power to help him or allow him to be killed. There’s more to it, but in a nutshell, to leap the hurdle, he had to answer this question: What does every woman want?”
“You’re a woman.”
“Thanks for noticing.” She looked over at him, and her mood seemed to shift.
“Sarcasm, huh?”
“Deserved.” She laughed as she crawled from under the covers, and he immediately missed her satin warmth against him.
“So every woman wants the same thing? That’s not possible any more than every man would want the same. Every K9, cat, or kangaroo—”
Kira walked immodestly naked around her room, gathering her clothes for the day. “Within their species and gender.”
“Exactly.” Ty slid up the bed to rest against the headboard. He laced his fingers behind his head, enjoying their banter. “That any group would be homogenous that way is absurd.”
“Ah, but is it?” She went into the bathroom and left the door open. It might have been an invitation to come and shower with her again, or it might just be so they could converse. He’d wait and see if he was offered an invitation.
“I’m running through my lists, and I’m coming up with,” he
said, “every woman wants air to breathe, food when she’s hungry, shelter from the storm.”
Kira called past the running water. “Storms take various forms.”
“Granted.” He reached out to Rory and Beatrice, who jumped onto the bed.
“Isn’t that what my mother chose by moving to Qatar? Shelter from the storm?”
He was scratching behind both dogs’ ears. “Is that what your mom said when she moved?”
“It’s what I intuit,” Kira said.
“Do you need that kind of shelter?” Ty regretted those words immediately. He tried to shift back again. “What is it that Arthur told the hag?”
“It wasn’t Arthur who answered. It was one of his knights. Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“When I was growing up, my dad was in the Army. I always knew that was my career trajectory. In school, I focused on the things that I thought would best help me with being a successful soldier: science, math, foreign language, history, ROTC. I wasn’t big into my English classes. I thought reading all of those old books was a waste of my time. But when I was stationed in Afghanistan, I discovered reading. It helped me pass the time. It gave me fodder for new thoughts and for conversations that got stale really fast when I was with the same people day in and day out, month after month. I love to read now, and I’m trying to broaden my horizons. When you talk about literature, I’m really interested. Intrigued.”
“All right, the story of the hag. The hag says she’d give King Arthur what he needs, but in return, she says that she wants to marry a knight from the round table. Now when I say hag, I mean hag—an old wrinkled, stooped woman with arthritic hands and scraggly hair. Arthur is horrified that he made that promise. He’s married to Guinevere, so he can’t fulfill the obligation himself.”
“Did he lie to the woman about following through?”
“Arthur returned to the round table to explain what happened to his knights. Sir Gawain says he’ll do it. He’ll marry the hag.”
“That’s brotherhood. I wouldn’t do that even for my brothers in my unit.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Well, Gawain’s ready to throw himself on the proverbial grenade. That’s when Arthur explains that actually the hag is the most beautiful woman in the realm but for only half the day.”
“Twelve hours of beauty and twelve hours of ugly?”
“Exactly. And here’s the kicker he could choose which time she was ugly. For example, she could be ugly all day long and beautiful at night when she was in his bed or beautiful to look at all day but ugly at night. Which would you choose?”
“This is a trick question. First, you can make love at any time of the day or night, so why would that matter? Normally, I’d say love is blind, and he sees her inner beauty no matter the time of day—but he doesn’t know her and so doesn’t love her, that would make a difference. At night, her beauty would be in the dark. If she were ugly during the day, she might be poorly treated. But that all seems to be missing the point. It sounds like Gawain is supposed to answer that question from a place of his own comfort without weighing in or giving precedence to her. I don’t think it should be his choice. It should be her choice because it’s her body and her life. And he can either discuss it with her and come to a shared decision, or he should leave it to her and adapt.”
Kira stood in the bathroom door, a towel hugged to her. She blinked at him. “You haven’t read this before?”
“Not that I recall. Why? What did he choose?”
“Well, the hag was obviously under a curse, and the curse would be lifted—”
“Is this like the frog thing? The prince is a frog until he can convince a princess to kiss him?”
“Beauty and the Beast tropes? Yes. Someone has to see the cursed person with a kind heart and not be deterred by appearances. That was the same in this passage. Gawain couldn’t see with a selfish heart. He had to put her first. So Gawain basically says, ‘You choose what works best for you.’ And when he said that, answering the question, what does a woman want most? It’s to have her own way.”
“As do we all.”
“So true.” She sighed and moved back into the bathroom, raising her voice to be heard. “When she was told it was okay for her to choose her own path, she was released from the spell and was always beautiful. She lived the rest of her days happily with Gawain.”
It might be wishful thinking on his part, but could it be that Kira was asking him to give her space and trust that she could find her own way to the happily ever after of fairy tales?
Was there really a choice?
He was here on a psyops mission. When he’d mapped the compound and given the intel to his Unit, Ty’s contact with Kira would be over. They’d each part ways and go about their lives. He didn’t see a way that a relationship between them was possible. Especially after he manipulated her the way he did. He was complicating her life. If she felt for him at all—through science or alchemy or the fates themselves—like he felt for her, he was going to hurt both of them.
He would do what he was ordered to do. He was a soldier who risked everything for the good of his nation. His heart was one thing—he’d been warned. But he’d failed to truly recognize and appreciate the impact this might have on Kira.
Shame washed over him. Ty was glad Kira was in the adjacent room and couldn’t see and intuit what an asswipe he truly was.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ty
Ty had told Kira that he was going to run Rory and end up back at his hotel room for a meeting.
She asked him to pack his bags and bring his things back to her house, so they were ready to go in the morning.
They had one more night to sleep together. Once they were in Tanzania, his posture toward her would have to change for everyone’s safety.
Just a few more hours.
Once he was on the jet, he was on his way to taking down a major terrorist plotter.
“How’s it going?” White asked as she trailed him down the hotel corridor and into his room.
“Did you know that she’s moving to Qatar?” he asked once the door shut and he’d thrown the bolt.
“That’s a new detail from a recent conversation with her uncle. Did she tell you that’s what she’s decided to do?”
“I can’t say she’s a hundred percent. Does this have anything to do with this mission?”
“Yes. And I won’t say more on the subject.” White dropped her briefcase by the dinette and pulled out a chair.
“Is she part of the enemy?”
“She is not. I can promise you that.” White sat down, angling herself toward Ty. “We talked about her psych evals. I will remind you there is a perfectionistic piece to her personality. People with INFJ self-punish with enormous anxiety if they believe they have done something wrong, their inner voice is punitive.”
“I think I saw that these last two days,” Ty said as he took the lead off Rory.
White held her hands in the air as Rory went over to sniff at her. “Tell me more.”
“We were having a conversation about her moving to Qatar. That’s enough, Rory. Load onto the bed.” He paused and waited for Rory to comply. “Good boy.” He turned back to White. “It was like watching her dissolve in front of me. This is a weird analogy, but it made me think of the Wizard of Oz scene where Dorothy threw the bucket of water on the Wicked Witch, and the Wicked Witch melted. Though, Kira is the opposite of wicked. So take that piece out. It was like circumstances were thrown at her, and…yeah. I don’t know if that information is helpful to you.”
“She has family obligations.”
“Can you tell me what they are?”
“I can tell you, but I won’t. You’re not involved in her life other than getting on the plane with her and flying to the Range. I will remind you again, you were chosen for your personality profile. Do not get attached to the idea of a future beyond Monday. You cannot help her. Cannot.”
“So she’s in dange
r.” Ty’s tone was carefully emotionless. He picked up Rory’s bowl to clean it out and get him fresh water.
“That’s not part of the scope of this mission. Now, we need to take next steps. Here’s the thing I want you to know. This mission is high stakes. There are a lot of international relationships on the line—Qatar, Tanzania, Saudi Arabia, Japan, among others. There’s a high potential for blowback. No matter what, you will remember that this mission falls under your security clearance. If you ever discuss this mission with anyone—and by anyone, I mean Kira—other than to say that you are there to protect her and make her feel safe, it’s a problem. If any of the methods we have used are shared—including the how and the why of you showing up in her life—you’ll have a long time to think about them sitting in solitary in prison.”
He set the bowl carefully on the ground. “Why do you feel the need to threaten me?”
“I chose correctly,” she said. And to her credit, she seemed unhappy about the situation. “You’ve fallen in love. Your conscience will make you want to whisper the truth to her. You are an ethical, forthright, respectable man. You’ll want to tell her that your relationship is built on duplicity. But you’d be wrong.”
“How’s that?”
“Ha! See, you didn’t deny you love her.”
“I love her. You’re right. I see no reason to deny my feelings.”
“See how quick that can go when you apply science?”
“White,” he said sharply. He wanted her to cut the crap.
“Your relationship was chosen through science. I gave you some skills to apply. But when people date, that’s what they do. They think about how they can best attract the person who has caught their fancy. Where to take them on a date. What outfit they will wear. What they can talk about. It’s all part of the dating game.”
