by Camden Mays
Six floors up, Hannah struggled to pull herself out of bed. Her head throbbed as she forced herself up, looking at the clock. It read 12:07 p.m. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept till noon, much less in her clothes. College, maybe. The memories of the night before began to surface.
She staggered to the shower and turned on the water, trying to remember how she got home. She grabbed her three-minute power toothbrush and stepped into the shower.
Cole used his key to let himself into Hannah’s condo and heard the shower running. Awesome, he thought. I know I could sure use one. As he set his backpack down on the counter, he saw the note Tom Anderson had left.
I enjoyed last night. You have a lovely home. See you on Tuesday. —Tom
Cole’s world came crashing in. How could this be the Hannah that he loved? How could he have been blind to it? He was speechless and unsure of what he might say or do. He took the pad of paper and wrote a note.
Came home early . . . Surprise! Looks like we need to talk. —Cole
He tore the sheet off the pad and laid it next to Anderson’s for clarity. He heard the water shut off as he left the condo.
✽✽✽
Hannah stepped out of the shower and paused as she dried off. It sounded like her front door. Still wet and dripping, she wrapped the towel around herself and went out of the bedroom, down the hall, and around to the living area, looking around. The front door was closed. She had a weird sensation like someone had been there. She went to the kitchen and saw the two notes side by side. “Oh God, no!”
She ran out of the condo in her towel and leaned over the rail to see Cole walking toward his SUV.
“Cole!” she hollered. “Cole! Wait! Please don’t go!”
She knew he had heard her but was ignoring her plea. Her heart felt as if it was tearing apart. Hannah stood leaning over the rail with her wet hair and blue towel. He looked up, then got in the SUV and drove away.
“Shit!” Hannah screamed.
✽✽✽
Bandar Abbas, Iran
Jamil Rasul set his bags down in the same room at the Hormoz Hotel that he had stayed in on his last visit to Bandar Abbas. Rasul was sure it was VAJA’s way to keep tabs on his communication. The serenity of the exquisite view of the Persian Gulf could not relieve the anger boiling in the usually calm Rasul. He had just been informed of the air strike on one of his most valued strongholds in Yemen. The reports indicated the AIJB camp was utterly destroyed. That meant the Lion of Aden had lost nearly a hundred and fifty fighters along with the more devasting loss of the arms shipment from the Russians.
The only sense of peace for Rasul came from knowing that Allah had spared his life by sending him to the meeting in Iran. Since Jawahir had been killed, Rasul himself was at the camp making arrangements to receive the shipment when Zurvan Shirazi and Gavriil Medvedm had called another meeting in Bandar Abbas to review plans.
As he waited for the call in the room, Rasul weighed the possibility that the Russians would consider the loss a sign of instability. If the AIJB was unable to secure an arms shipment, how could they be trusted with the responsibilities in the attacks planned for America?
“This is exactly why the Lion requested antiaircraft support,” Rasul said out loud to himself. The small man had begun referring to himself in the third person, at least when it involved his persona of the Lion.
Rasul made quick work on his laptop and sent a message to the AIJB that the Lion of Aden still roared and the cowardly attack on innocent Muslims demanded retribution. He began developing plans for attacks on weak targets but was interrupted by the blaring ring of the phone on the nightstand. The meeting was about to start, and he was needed in the guest suite.
When Rasul entered the room, it appeared to him as if Shirazi and the Bear had been meeting for a while without him. The overstuffed Bear had a plate with boiled shrimp tails and other discarded foods. His host asked if he had eaten and invited him to partake, but the gluttonous sight sickened him as he thought of the hunger and suffering of his fellow Yemenis.
“No, thank you.”
“Well then, let’s move to the lounge area.” Shirazi motioned.
“Before we begin, what is the word on the damage from the US air strikes?” the Bear asked.
“The camp was annihilated, and, unfortunately, the arms shipment lost,” Rasul said.
“And the Lion? Is he safe?” Shirazi asked.
“Yes. He is under Allah’s care. He is safe and secure and just released statements to his followers.”
“Good, very good,” Shirazi said, nodding. “We have the essential elements in place to initiate our plan.”
The Bear picked up the pace. “In a few days, we will send a cyber foreshock that will trigger the response from the US government that we need to ensure our full-scale victory.”
“Praise Allah,” Rasul said.
“Indeed,” the obese Russian said, lighting his cigar. “A major financial institution and the largest power companies in Illinois and New York and Detroit will be infected with our first wave. At the appropriate time, you will need to deploy your jihadists in those cities to heighten the sense of terror that should get every politician demanding swift resolution.”
“We are ready to do our part,” Rasul assured the two.
“With fifty million people unable to access their money, and collectively another fifteen million without power, the scales should tip in our favor. As the bombs explode, the US government will be forced to expedite the process of authorizing the service of our friends. Once upgrades are made, we will have them right where we want them. A click away from a complete blackout.” Rings of smoke floated above the Bear’s head.
✽✽✽
McLean, Virginia
Cole plopped his bags down on the bench of the island dresser in the master bedroom closet, desiring a hot shower and rest. His internal clock was off from the travel. He was tired, beat, and now, thanks to his discovery at Hannah’s condo, depressed and lost in thoughts, unable to get his emotional bearings.
All he longed for while out on his missions was to be home with Hannah. The month apart seemed like a year. Perhaps that was what she had felt too. He looked through the messages on his phone once again, as if somehow the content on the screen would change.
There were missed calls and voice-mail messages and three text messages from Hannah. Each begging him to call her back, asking if she could come over to see him. She needed to explain things. He ignored them, unable to bring himself to deal with the disappointment. Instead, he ordered pizza and opted for a hot shower and a shave.
After he was cleaned up, he threw on a T-shirt and jeans and headed to the kitchen, grabbing his light beer and sifting through the large stack of mail while waiting on his pizza. He sat at the large kitchen island and looked around the house he loved that now seemed empty and lifeless. The only thing that had changed was his relationship with Hannah.
“Huh. I guess home is where the heart is,” he said aloud to himself. He called Jess, hoping that hearing her voice would ease his pain. It went to voice mail, so he let her know he was home for a few days and sorry he didn’t make it back before she left for California.
The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the pizza he had ordered. He grabbed his wallet and went through the barrel archway to the front door. When he opened it, he saw Hannah holding the large pizza box. She stood there for a second, and even though he was angry at her, he thought she was as cute as ever. She had the pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of bottled beer in the other.
Cole was speechless. She was just as desirable in casual clothes as she was in a formal dress. Her toned legs started at her white tennis shoes and ran up to her denim shorts. Hannah had the legs of a fitness model, curved and toned in the right spots, and with the summer sun, they were more tanned than Cole remembered. He yearned for her but remained silent.
“Caught your delivery guy,” she said, lifting the pizza box. “And brought th
ese from my house.” She lifted the six-pack. Cole just stood there, and Hannah saw the wallet in his hand.
“It’s on me. I paid the delivery guy already. Can I come in?” she pleaded with her brown eyes. Cole stepped out of her way to grant her access.
“You want to eat at the table or the kitchen island?” Hannah asked. Cole just pointed to the table. He couldn’t believe that she was there. He wanted her there, but dammit, he was pissed and didn’t want her there either. She sat the box down, went to the cabinet for the paper plates and napkins, and pulled up a chair to the table, making herself at home.
Cole sat across from her and watched as she opened one of the bottles, handed it to him, and then took another for herself. She held it up in the air. “Welcome home.”
Cole stared at her, trying to discern her game. Is she really going to play it off like nothing happened? He was bewildered, unsure whether to be angry or impressed with her approach as she pulled a slice to a plate, laid it in front of him, then took another slice for her dish.
“You must be hungry. A large pizza for yourself?” She took a bite, not waiting any longer for Cole.
“Mmm . . . Good call on the toppings,” she said.
Cole finally bit into his slice but kept his eyes trained on Hannah.
Hannah paused between bites. “Cole, the note you saw isn’t what it looks like, just like the photos I got weren’t what they appeared to be either.”
She paused to let that sink in. Cole turned his bottle up and finished it off. He reached over and grabbed another one, twisting the top off. Hannah took his plate and gave him another slice and went on to explain the events of the night before. Cole listened to the story, ate his pizza, and drank another beer. Then, in an uncustomary fashion, he drank yet another beer.
“So that’s what happened. I’m not proud of the fact that I drank too much or that I let him kiss me. But if one thing came out of the experience, it was that it crystallized for me how much I love you and I don’t want to lose you. I’m so sorry that you saw that note. I know how I felt when I saw the pictures, so I know it hurts to think about what might have happened. I’m sorry I was even in a situation for something to happen. Cole, I love you.”
He reached for another bottle, but she grabbed his hand.
“Please say something.”
“I think I need some time,” Cole finally spoke.
“Cole . . .”
“Hannah, all I could think about when I was gone was being with you. I’ve been in a situation before where I gave love but it wasn’t reciprocated. I promised myself I wouldn’t be in a relationship like that again.”
“Cole, no one can love you more than I love you right now. Our jobs are going to make it damn hard on our relationship, but I don’t want anyone but you. And I’m willing to do what it takes. Please give us a chance.”
“Hannah, you kissed him.”
“I was drunk! I was wasted and lonely. I have never been that intoxicated before in my life. And he kissed me.”
Cole leaned back in his chair. “You kissed him. I just don’t know what this means for us.”
Hannah dropped her head. Cole got up and cleaned the table and excused himself as he headed upstairs to go to bed. Hannah remained at the table.
Chapter 16
McLean, Virginia
The nightmares broke through Cole’s serenity and woke him in the early morning hour. Hannah’s hand lay on his chest. He had left her downstairs, assuming she would let herself out. He was surprised that she had stayed and seemed to want to fight for their relationship. Cole thought he had dreamed of feeling her skin against his as she cuddled against him and kissed his back. Guess it wasn’t a dream.
He softly lifted her hand off of his chest and eased out of bed. It was four in the morning. He wasn’t sure when Hannah had joined him, but he had slept for over twelve hours and was ready to move around. The time zone changes always took some adjustment.
There was a note next to Cole’s phone.
I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to kick me out. I love you too much!
Cole grabbed his phone from the charger on the kitchen counter and scrolled to see the missed messages. Jess had tried to reach him. There were a couple of encrypted messages from McCune and another encrypted message from an unknown number. Cole glanced at Hannah’s phone that was charging next to his.
He had never wanted to be that guy, checking his woman’s phone. But given their recent experience, Cole was unsure of the direction the relationship was headed and convinced himself it was warranted. She’d even given him her passcode at one point as she was driving, asking him to check some emails on her phone. It was as if he had her permission anyway, he reasoned.
He punched the code in and scrolled back to the beginning history of messages to satisfy his curiosity. He saw the earlier invite from Tom Anderson to speak at Quantico on Tuesday. He expelled a deep sigh, thinking about Hannah being around the guy again. Then there was the message from friends to join for drinks. Followed by the most revealing information—an exchange between Hannah and Tom Anderson after Cole stopped at the condo. It was apparent Hannah was furious that Anderson had taken the liberty to see her home. She was in a serious relationship, and he had put that in jeopardy. Anderson was apologetic, but Cole was pleased when he saw Hannah had canceled the Tuesday event and asked Tom to never contact her again. Cole appreciated that while she was angry with Tom Anderson, she had accepted full responsibility for her own actions.
For Cole, his relationship with Hannah was fueled by an extraordinary love. They had an intimacy that ran deep, and passion that burned hot, and commitment bound by determination. It was the commitment that was being tested. Their careers seemed to work overtime to try to break that bond. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some FBI agent come between us.
Cole laid the phone down. The messages could wait. He returned to the bedroom and gazed at Hannah peacefully sleeping. He stripped off his clothes and crawled back in the bed. The movement woke her, and she saw Cole lying with his face close to hers. They just looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Cole kissed her and pulled her body close to his. Hannah covered her mouth with her hand. “Wait, wait,” she said, “I need to brush.” She giggled.
“Really?” Cole asked disappointedly. She nodded.
“I’ll be right back,” she said as she quickly went to the bathroom. Cole tested his own breath and realized he needed to freshen up as well. The two stood naked over separate sinks brushing their teeth while gazing at each other’s bodies with desire in their eyes. Cole couldn’t take it any longer. He rinsed with his mouthwash and walked up behind her as she was finishing in front of the mirror. He began kissing her shoulders and neck. She dropped the toothbrush. They never made it back to the bed.
✽✽✽
Washington, DC – Capitol Hill
Cole Cameron arrived early for the closed-session meeting with the congressional committee regarding the investigation into the incident in Mogadishu. It was a political stunt by Scott Shepherd to garner the favor of his liberal constituents while driving a dagger into the career of the CIA officer who had evaded his snares. Cole was led to a small waiting room and would be summoned for questioning. For all he knew, he could be spending the whole day waiting to be called. If Shepherd had his way, he was confident that would be the case.
Cole reflected on the previous day that he spent with Hannah tied to his hip as they soaked up every minute. He grinned, thinking about how they had romped around the house like love-starved animals. His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone. It was the unknown number with another message. He had gotten the first message yesterday, a request for a meeting at the park he had used for a dead drop with Grant Ramsey. The sender identified herself as Daphne. Yesterday, Cole had chosen to leave the mystery for another day and focus on Hannah instead. Today, he opened the message.
Urgent. We need to meet. Turkish Coffee Lady. Alone. 11:00 a.m. Daphne.
Cole’s hunch was correct—it was Katrina Nikolin. It’s not like I don’t have anything going on here, he thought to himself. This better be good.
He texted Nancy McCune, who was answering questions from the probing committee with the CIA attorneys already in the hearing room. He let himself out of the waiting room and was confronted by one of Shepherd’s staff members.
“Sir, you have to stay here until you are summoned by the committee,” the anxious staffer said.
“I came here of my own free will, and I’ll leave the same,” Cole said. “I thought this was voluntary. I didn’t receive a subpoena. Do you have a subpoena on you?”
The staffer stuttered, looking for a response.
Cole just stepped around him. “I’ll be back, but right now I have to take care of an urgent matter.” He left the building and headed to Tysons Corner.
✽✽✽
In the meeting room, a staffer handed Shepherd a note as McCune was responding to a line of questioning.
“Ahem.” Shepherd leaned into the microphone. “Excuse me, I just received word that Officer Cameron has left the building, which makes him unavailable for questioning. We were assured that your office would cooperate with our questioning.”
“Yes, sir. I’m aware. Mr. Cameron hopes to be back and available this afternoon. He has an urgent meeting related to our national security,” McCune fudged.
“You mean of the thousands of employees at the Central Intelligence Agency, Officer Cameron is the only one capable of handling this urgent meeting?”
“In this case, yes, sir,” McCune replied.
“Very well, let’s continue,” Shepherd said.
✽✽✽
Tysons Corner, Virginia – Turkish Coffee Lady
Cole worked to find a parking spot in the large lot at the mall. A thunderstorm had popped up, and the rain pelted the hot pavement. He hated shopping malls and coffee shops, and he had just blown off a preliminary hearing with a congressional committee to get here. He was in a suit and tie for the interview, and it was about to get soaked.
