by Lisa Harris
“ ‘Are you still able to assure me when the package gets delivered you’ll take good care of it?’
‘Of course. Nothing’s changed here. I assure you of that. Didn’t my partner make that clear to you when he met with you today and told you how he plans to ship the package?’
‘Yes, he said he has the proper storage facilities for it, and when he picks it up, there won’t be any danger of it being mishandled.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be able to help him facilitate the delivery? Do you think you’ll be able to work out those details?’
‘Yes, I don’t think the delivery from my end will be a problem. I can handle things at the pick-up point just fine.’
‘You won’t be alone at the pick-up point, will you?’
‘No, I won’t be alone. I’ll have my boyfriend with me and a couple of his friends, but they won’t know anything about the delivery.’
‘So, you’ll text my partner when you have everything ready for the pickup to take place?’
‘That’s right. I want this delivery to be as smooth as possible, with no complications and no injuries.’
‘As long as you follow my partner’s directions, I can assure you everything will go smoothly.’ ”
Frank took off his glasses and used them to gesture at us. “Well, how do you interpret this conversation? Would you say Kamila is planning to do something that will make it easy for Nazim and his cell members to get into Camp Tamal tomorrow night?”
Jennifer nodded. “It certainly sounds that way to me.”
Ben agreed with her. “Kamila is manipulative and calculating, but she’s not cruel. Even though she disagrees with her father’s politics, she seems to care about him, so I don’t think she would want him to be harmed.”
I said, “But she’s still helping the NTI kidnap him and get him shipped off to Turkey, and if she thinks President Evren won’t put the Imam in prison or kill him the moment he arrives in Turkey, then she’s naïve. At the very least, he’ll be put under house arrest.”
Frank said, “Since Kamila didn’t meet with anyone else yesterday, we’re assuming the partner Mustafa is referring to is Hasan Nazim.”
“Yes, I’d interpret it that way,” I said. “When Nazim met Kamila at the restaurant, he probably told her how he intends to enter the compound, and that’s when he finalized his plans with her.”
Jennifer looked over at Ben. “How would Kamila be able to make it easy for Nazim’s cell members to get past the guards at the gate? What do you think she meant when she told Mustafa she’d take care of those details?”
“My guess is that she’ll tell the guards she’s expecting a delivery, or that some of her guests will be arriving late, and she’ll give the guards instructions to let them into the compound immediately.”
I disagreed with Ben.
I didn’t think Kamila would do anything the authorities could use as evidence she’d colluded with her father’s kidnappers.
But, I didn’t want to contradict Ben in front of Jennifer, so I decided to keep my thoughts to myself.
For the time being.
As Frank closed his tablet, he said the last item on his agenda was about our final briefing tomorrow afternoon.
He gestured at Ben. “Now that we’ve established Kamila has been in contact with a Turkish intelligence officer, Douglas believes it’s too risky for you to be alone with her again without having Titus around to watch your back.”
“That’s fine, except I told her I’d pick her up tomorrow night.”
“Would she be agreeable to meeting you at your townhouse, if you told her Titus and his date would also be meeting you there?”
“She wouldn’t find that strange,” Ben said, cutting his eyes over at Jennifer. “We’ve met at my townhouse before. Since we’re supposed to be out at Camp Tamal at six o’clock, I’ll tell her to meet us there around five. What time is our briefing?”
“Douglas suggested we have your final briefing at Langley instead of at the safe house at Great Falls. We’ve scheduled it for one o’clock in the Ops Center. By that time, I should have heard back from my asset who may be able to tell us how Nazim plans to enter the compound.”
“Let’s hope he comes up with some good intel,” Ben said.
“He’s been reliable in the past, so I’m counting on him coming through for us again.” Frank stood to his feet. “Okay, that’s all I have. I guess I’ll be headed back to Washington now.”
As I walked Frank over to the door, I said, “Just to clarify things, Frank. I’m assuming once you get confirmation how this is supposed to go down, the Director will give you the green light to go ahead and start arresting the members of the NTI cell. You’ll have enough evidence to do that, right?”
He nodded. “Sure, if we get something definitive from my asset.”
Jennifer asked, “I suppose that means the transcripts of the phone calls and the fact that Nazim met with Kamila aren’t enough to arrest him or his cell members?”
When Frank got to the door, he turned around and said, “The phone calls have too much doublespeak in them for us to get an arrest warrant, and it’s only supposition on our part as to why Nazim and Kamila were at the restaurant together. I’m pretty sure a judge would laugh in our faces if we tried to get an arrest warrant.”
Jennifer nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Nazim and Kamila are both from Turkey. They’re both about the same age. Why wouldn’t they be having coffee together?”
“But that was a good question, Jennifer,” Ben said. “I’m glad you asked it. We needed to get clarification on that.”
She smiled at him. “I was just thinking if Nazim got arrested and charged for planning a kidnapping, there wouldn’t be a need for a briefing tomorrow. If that happened, the birthday party for the Imam’s wife might be called off, and you’d be done with Kamila.”
Ben nodded. “Believe me. I like the sound of that.”
As the two of them stood there smiling at each other, Frank and I left them in Carlton’s study and walked out in the hallway.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at Langley,” Frank said. “If anything changes, Douglas will give you a call.”
When I heard Frank mention changes, I suddenly remembered the comment he made when he entered Carlton’s study.
I hesitated a second, but then I asked, “So, Frank, what kind of changes are happening in your life these days?”
He shook his head. “Oh, I doubt if you’d want to hear about what’s going on in my life.”
“Sure, I would. Millie and Arkady have gone out for the afternoon. Let’s go back to the kitchen, and you can tell me about it.”
He looked pleased at my suggestion. “By any chance has Millie baked any cookies lately?”
“As a matter of fact, she has.”
“Well then, sure, I’ll stick around for a while.”
Chapter Fifteen
After Frank sat down on a bar stool at the kitchen island, I got him a diet soda and poured myself a glass of lemonade. Then I brought Millie’s cookie jar—an overweight pig sitting on his haunches wearing a black apron and a chef’s hat—over to the island.
Once Frank and I grabbed a couple of chocolate chip cookies out of the pig’s head, I replaced the lid and took the cookie jar back over to the kitchen counter, putting it out of Frank’s reach—and mine too.
“You’re not leaving the Bureau, are you, Frank?” I asked as I sat down across from him. “That’s not the change that’s happening in your life, is it?”
“No, I love working for the feds. The Bureau’s a good fit for me.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“The changes I mentioned are personal in nature. That’s why I didn’t think you’d be interested in them.”
When Frank and I were at the Agency together, he once accused me of being self-centered.
Of course, he was right.
Before I met the Iranian Christians and became a believer, I didn’t think of a
nyone but myself. Now, putting others into the equation was something I tried to do more often.
Even so, I really wasn’t interested in Frank’s problems.
When people told me personal stuff, I never knew what to say, which is why I was reluctant to ask Frank to stick around and tell me what was going on with him.
I wasn’t sure why I did it.
I just knew I was supposed to do it.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t be interested, Frank? Didn’t I save your life last year? Didn’t I introduce you to Juliana when we worked together on Peaceful Retrieval a few months ago?”
He took a bite out of his cookie and nodded. “Yeah, you saved my life, and I’m really grateful for that.”
“And what about Juliana? Are you still seeing her?”
“No, we agreed to go our separate ways a few months ago. The last time I saw her, she was about to take a long-term assignment in Mexico. To be truthful, she was a little too intense for me.”
He paused and took a drink of his soda. “The changes I mentioned don’t have anything to do with Juliana. The changes are about my kids. My oldest boy, Mick, is about to go off to college, and my ex-wife just remarried and is moving to California next month. She’s taking our daughter with her, so I won’t be able to see her as often as I do now.”
“You’re right. Those sound like big changes.”
When I noticed Frank staring at me, I thought he was about to tell me what an inane comment that was. If so, I agreed with him.
But, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He nodded. “Those are big changes, aren’t they? My ex-wife thinks I’m blowing them way out of proportion. But my kids are what keep me going. They’re the best things in my life.”
He paused and shook his head. “I’m telling you, Titus, the thought of not having them around is already starting to depress me.”
Now, I was really stumped.
If Frank had wanted my advice about recruiting an asset or setting up a trap for a Syrian arms dealer, I would have been able to come up with two or three suggestions to help him out, but since I couldn’t identify with his problem, I sat there in dead silence, just munching away on my cookie.
My silence didn’t seem to bother Frank, though. He kept on talking.
He told me all about Mick and his football scholarship to Louisiana State University, and how he’d already asked for time off to fly down to Baton Rouge and see him play. Then, he switched over to talk about Abby, his fourteen-year-old daughter, and her interest in ballet.
In the middle of his soliloquy, he got up and walked over to the counter, where he picked up the big fat pig cookie jar and brought it back over to the island. After removing the lid, he doled out more cookies for both of us.
I didn’t protest.
He said, “I suppose I always knew in the back of my mind I shouldn’t be depending on them to make my life better, but I never did anything about it. Now, they’re both about to leave me at the same time.”
“I can see why that might be depressing for you.”
My agreeing with his former statement seemed to give him pause, and after taking a drink, he gestured at me. “I remember one time you mentioned something about some big changes that happened to you while you were living in Tehran. You said you had some kind of spiritual experience. What was that about?”
For a moment I couldn’t recall saying anything to Frank about my experience in Iran, but then I remembered him commenting on my change of attitude toward him, and that’s when I mentioned it.
“Yeah, Frank. You talk about changes in your life. I had a life-changing experience when I met some Iranian Christians when my network got blown. I had to live with them for three months. Keep in mind, I was also hiding out from the secret police at the same time.”
“What happened? Did you get religion?”
“No, not religion. My Iranian friends didn’t talk to me about religion. They showed me how I could have a relationship with God. It’s made a big difference in my life.”
“Well, whatever it was, it definitely changed you.”
“I became a Christian. I committed my life to Christ, and the relationship I have with him now is what gives my life meaning.”
He nodded. “Sounds like something I need to do, and it’s funny you should mention it, because it’s exactly what my daughter was talking to me about the other day when she got home from a church camp with one of her friends. She told me the same thing happened to her.”
Suddenly, everything came together, and I knew why I felt compelled to ask Frank to tell me what was going on with him.
It had nothing to do with me.
It was all God’s doing.
He brought Frank and me together in Millie’s kitchen so I could share my faith with him. A year ago, when I mentioned changes in my life, Frank didn’t act like he wanted to hear what happened to me one night in Tehran, or maybe he just wasn’t ready to hear about it then.
Now, he was.
So I told him.
After Frank left, I walked back to Carlton’s study, where I found Ben and Jennifer sitting by the fireplace laughing at something on Jennifer’s phone.
I decided not to ask them about it, and Jennifer didn’t offer to show me what was so funny. “I’m sorry for taking so long. I was talking to Frank and lost track of time.”
Ben smiled. “That’s okay. Jennifer and I were able to keep ourselves busy. Are you ready for me to brief you on what to expect when we go out to Camp Tamal tomorrow night?”
I nodded and sat down. “I’d like to hear your impressions of Faraji Hanim. All I know about the Imam is what I’ve read in the Agency files and heard on the media.”
Ben leaned back in his chair and said, “Well, to begin with, he’s very opinionated. I admit I was relieved Kamila didn’t tell him I was related to the Senator once I met him at the dinner last Saturday night. If she had, I might have had a hard time answering his questions.”
“Why didn’t she want him to know?” Jennifer asked.
“She claimed she didn’t want us talking about politics all evening, but since our Agency analysts told me Imam Hanim had recently published an article criticizing Congress for not denouncing President Evren’s accusations against him, I figured that was the real reason.”
“Did you tell Kamila about your encounter with her brother outside your townhouse the other day?” I asked.
“Yes, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it. Of course, I didn’t tell her Omer had pulled a gun on me.”
“We’ll need to keep an eye on him tomorrow night, that’s for sure.”
“Yesterday, Kamila told me she had a talk with Omer about his behavior, and after she explained why she hadn’t brought up my relationship with the Senator, he apologized to her.”
“Did Kamila say the Imam knows who you are now?”
Ben nodded. “Kamila warned me since the Imam knows I’m Senator Mitchell’s son, he may want to argue with me about some of the Senator’s policies.”
Jennifer smiled at Ben. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Besides being opinionated, was there anything else about the Imam we ought to know?”
“You might want to keep in mind he’s very curious. He asked me a lot of random questions during dinner, but I finally decided it’s just his nature to be inquisitive.”
“What kind of questions did he ask you?”
“Mostly philosophical or religious questions.”
“Nothing personal?”
“No, nothing personal. Another thing you need to know is that he likes to garden. I’m talking about flowers, not vegetables. Kamila said her father considers gardening his hobby, and after dinner, he invited me out to his backyard to see his flower garden. I made a big deal about it, but to be truthful, I don’t know anything about flowers.”
“And what about Kamila? What’s she like?” Jennifer asked.
When Ben looked away for a mome
nt, I figured he was uncomfortable, or maybe embarrassed, at the thought of describing his pseudo-girlfriend to the woman he was really interested in.
“Ah . . . let’s see. What can I tell you about Kamila? Well, first of all, she’s a lot like her father in that she has strong opinions about things. Secondly, she’s an extrovert; she seems to love being around people. In fact, she told me that’s why she became a physical therapist. She’s definitely not shy, and she doesn’t mind being the center of attention.”
Jennifer said, “She sounds like a fun person.”
I said, “I know Kamila was very young when her family came to the States, and I’m sure the Imam didn’t permit the members of his family to go back to Turkey for a visit, so why do you think she’s willing to work with President Evren against the Imam? What would make her do something like that?”
Ben shrugged. “At first, I thought it might just be a case of a daughter rebelling against her father, but the more I’ve heard her talk about her feelings toward the People’s Liberation Party, and her disgust with their policies of inciting violence against President Evren, the more I’ve come to believe she thinks her father needs to return to Turkey, denounce the PLP, and prove to the world he had nothing to do with the coup attempt against the president.”
Jennifer said, “But if that’s the case, it’s ironic that she’s willing to help the country’s National Intelligence Service when they’ve been accused of committing far worse atrocities than anything the People’s Liberation Party has been accused of doing.”
“I don’t believe Kamila is aware of the NTI’s reputation,” Ben said.
“Are you saying she’s—”
Ben held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Jennifer. I’m not defending Kamila, but she doesn’t have access to the kind of information we have, and I suspect Barat Mustafa told her some fairytale of how it would be beneficial for her father’s reputation if he were to return to Turkey and defend himself against charges of inciting a coup against a democratically-elected president.”
