by Camden Mays
“You didn’t seem to mind when Kincaid was out there. And for a young guy, he seemed to have a weak bladder. I mean how many times did he come in the house to use the bathroom?”
“Dad! I’m serious.”
“Jess, until I know you’re safe. And I do have to go in today, but I’ve asked Darryl to come by and stay with you.” Capps was on medical leave recovering from his leg wound.
“Oh my God, Dad! I don’t need a babysitter! How embarrassing! It was bad enough you had Mr. Capps, here when you went to the funeral the other day. I mean, he’s really intimidating and grumpy. And he’s injured, how much help could he be?”
“Hey, Darryl could kick most people’s ass with just one good leg. And is it really such a bad thing to want you safe.”
“Dad, in this world I’ll never be a hundred percent safe. You of all people should know that. They may never find this guy. But I don’t want to stop living my life. I mean, it really isn’t fair.”
Cameron knew she was right.
“OK, I get it. I can’t treat you like a little kid but before I go today, we’re going to go through some dry firing drills with the XD and Darryl will be over.”
“Ugh! You should have had a boy!”
“No, that’s my terms and their final, oh and you do the dishes.”
✽✽✽
Counterterrorism Center – Langley
Cameron arrived at CTC early for the Friday afternoon meeting that McCune had requested. He used the extra time to check in on Amy Wiggins. Amy had worked closely with Jason Albright on the project. The two had spent hundreds of hours together over the last few weeks. Their workstations always side by side. To Cameron, they seemed to have their own techie language, and by the end of their first week together they could finish one another’s sentences.
He last saw Amy along with Hannah at Jason’s funeral just two days ago. They both seemed so distraught and affected that Cameron worried for them. But with Amy, who was such a bright light of positivity, he feared that her soul would be so scarred with grief that her natural illumination would be permanently dimmed or even extinguished.
He understood this pain. He had felt it several years ago when he lost his brother. And then after his experience in Yemen, he felt that he had somehow become hardened and callused.
Jason Albright had died saving him and his daughter and perhaps hundreds of others. He truly enjoyed working with Jason. The kid looked up to him. Cameron smiled at the thought of the blanket that Jason had put on him on the flight to LA.
But Cameron struggled to understand why he was not feeling deep sadness, like Amy or Hannah. It seemed surreal to him. Maybe his soul was forever hardened. He thought of the implications and hoped it would not be true of Amy.
Her back was to him at her workstation as Cameron entered the war room and stood next to the empty chair and workstation of Albright.
“Hey girl,” he said putting his hand on her shoulder.
She seemed distracted, but got up and hugged Cameron.
“Sorry, I must have zoned out. Just digging through Jason’s data. It’s tough.”
“Why don’t you have someone else do that?”
“No, I understand how he works and its best if I do it.”
“How’s Jess?”
“We’re good, thanks. FBI’s got a security detail helping watch for now.”
Cameron motioned to the skeleton crew and some tech guys moving equipment. “I really wish we could have wrapped this up ourselves. Al-Himyari is still out there.”
“The FBI’s got it now. He’s rapidly ascending the most wanted list.”
After the takedown of the suspects and the additional devices, the FBI concluded that al-Himyari was on the run. Hasim and the other four cell members were in custody but refused to cooperate with authorities. The manhunt was generating thousands of leads for the Bureau to qualify, but the most promising came from the southwest region in California and Arizona. Some speculated that al-Himyari had worked his way back across the border into Mexico to escape.
“I know, speaking of the FBI, has Hannah been by here lately?”
“I haven’t seen her since the funeral. But she said she was taking some time off.”
“Hmm,” Cameron nodded. “I’ve got to meet with McCune, call me if you need anything.”
McCune sat at her desk combing through emails, she waved Cameron in when she saw him at the door. He closed the door behind him and took the seat in front of her desk. She held one finger up requesting another minute of work before they spoke.
“Sorry about that,” she said turning her attention to Cameron.
“No problem.”
“How’s your daughter?”
“She seems OK. I don’t think she’s fully absorbed how close she came or how dangerous the situation could be. To make matters worse, she's just at that awkward age?”
“Brace yourself, that awkward age for most women is between the ages of twelve and thirtysomething.”
Cameron laughed, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“The key Cole is for you to stop being her manager and become her consultant.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“When do you feel you’ll be ready to get back into the fight?” McCune asked with a more serious tone.
“As long as the FBI continues to provide security detail, I feel like I’m OK getting back in. Jess is spending a lot of time with her friend and pushing to move on, I think she’ll be going back to school after the break next week.”
“OK, I’ll make a call and push to keep resources allocated for the security detail until she leaves. Take the rest of the weekend with Jess and feel free to take some time next week with her home but I’d like for you to come in on Monday to start your new role.”
“Beg your pardon, ma’am.”
“You’ve been promoted Officer Cameron, well, effective Monday,” she said handing him a folder. “You’ll need to take this over to personnel.”
Cameron opened the folder, “Wait,” he said in disbelief. “This is for Assistant Director of CTC.”
“That’s right. But really, it’s just a title. We have something a little more creative in mind. This just gets your pay grade where it should be with the added responsibility.”
“Ma’am I’m not sure.”
“Nancy, please.”
“Nancy, I have to tell you before this whole thing with the AIJB, I was ready to resign. In fact, I think the letter is still in my case. I’m sure some more worthy candidates have been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
“Oh yes. There are plenty of candidates scrapping at the next rung on the ladder, and you’ll need to watch your back, for sure. That, I can tell you from firsthand experience.”
Cameron dropped his head thinking about the prejudice he had shown McCune.
“But none of those have the kind of experience that you have. Do you realize what all you’ve been through in the last couple of months?”
Still surprised, Cameron sat silent for a moment, then asked, “So what is this new role entail?”
“Let’s leave the details for Monday. There’s too much to get into, and I’m booked solid. So, unfortunately, we need to wrap this up.”
Cameron rose to leave.
“Be sure to wear a nice suit and tie on Monday. You’ll want to look good for the photograph,” McCune suggested.
“What photograph?” asked the puzzled Cameron.
“You’re being awarded the Intelligence Star. The Director himself will be here to bestow the honors.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Cameron searched for the right words. He understood the significance of this award. The Intelligence Star is awarded by the Central Intelligence Agency to its officers for ‘extraordinary heroism.’ It is the third-highest award given by the Central Intelligence Agency, behind the Distinguished Intelligence Cross and Distinguished Intelligence Medal.
McCune held her hand up to the door signaling her PA to wait. “Betw
een your work in Yemen and Titan Shield efforts, you’ve earned it. Although the public will not hear about Yemen.”
“Amir and Capps?”
“Intelligence Medals, Amir posthumously and Capps will have another Jock Strap Medal.” McCune was referring to the Intelligence Medal that is given in secret due to the mission. “And of course, Amir’s will have a spot on the memorial wall.”
“I’d feel better about this if al-Himyari was found.”
“That’s why I like you, Officer Cameron,” she said opening the door. “We think alike. That’s exactly what I told the Director. But then he reminded me Hasni is dead, a terrorist attack was averted and you ran in when others were running out. You deserve it.”
Cameron assumed that the Director was looking to capitalize on the recent public events to generate a more favorable impression of the Agency.
“So, this is a public ceremony?” Cameron dreadfully asked.
“Yes, it is Officer Cameron. Bring your daughter. I’m sure she will be proud,” McCune said as the admin assistant entered the room.
“Ma’am, the Gala?” Charlie said pointing to Cameron as he exited the door.
“Grab him and ask him yourself,” she scoffed.
“Officer Cameron!” the admin shouted trying to catch him.
“Hey Charlie, what is it?”
“The Director’s office called again, looking for your plus one info for the Gala.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that. Can I let you know Monday?”
“I don’t know if I can hold Shanelle off over the weekend. She’s a beast,” Charlie said referring to the director’s PA. He stood to wait a minute, then gave in, “Monday. 09:00 at the latest.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll text you if I have it sooner," Cameron said.
Strolling the hall between cubicles toward the elevators Cameron became acutely aware that things were different. Looking back, he realized there had been subtle changes along the way, ever since the Titan Shield team was formed but especially after the Yemen operation.
Colleagues in the CTC building who previously ignored him or showed little interest now offered friendly nods and smiles. I guess all it took to get a little respect was getting shot, killing a few bad guys, nearly getting poisoned with nerve gas, watching two of your colleagues get killed and having your family targeted by a terrorist.
As he stepped into the elevator, he sent a text to Jessica.
You OK if I invite a friend over for dinner tonight?
Sure, she replied.
Good, can you prepare a salad and prep for my Chicken Pasta dinner?
CHAPTER 25
Washington, DC –Wharf District
Cameron walked up the stairs of the mid-rise condo building in the Southwest waterfront neighborhood on 4th street. Over the last few years, the area had seen significant redevelopment attracting an eclectic mix of residences. Hannah Jacobs’ building was on the modest side to that mix.
Reaching her apartment number on the sixth floor, he knocked at the door. He thought he could hear movement, but waited before giving the door another tap with his knuckles. On the other side of the door, Hannah Jacobs looked through the peephole and saw Cameron.
“Shit!” she whispered to herself, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was a mess having spent the last few days locked in and grieving in her home, leaving only for the funeral and a walk to the groceries.
Her image in the mirror wasn’t very flattering in her mind. She was braless and wearing a thin white tee shirt and shorts. She plucked at the chest of the tee shirt in a futile attempt to hide the obvious.
“Shit!” she whispered again, hearing the second knock.
“Not a good time, Cole.”
“Sorry to surprise you,” Cameron said through the door, “but you haven’t responded to my text or calls.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but…” she paused, “I’ll call, I promise.” She peered the tiny fishbowl lens to see Cameron’s confused expression.
“Hey, it took a little effort to get your address, and I fought traffic on a Friday afternoon to get here. The least you can do is let me in.”
Suddenly, Cameron thought of the possibility that she was with someone else. Damn it.
“Oh, it must have been a rough ride in your Range Rover.” She grinned, taking pleasure in watching his uncomfortableness without him being able to see her.
Then she realized it was her uncomfortableness that she was most concerned about. How would Cole respond to seeing her in this condition? Her hair was a mess, not to mention she was wearing the same tee shirt and shorts she had been in since getting home from the funeral two days ago.
“What?” Cameron asked growing a little annoyed, “what about the Range Rover?” He was clueless.
One more peek out the door, and she couldn’t resist. He was like a little puppy dog pleading with his eyes for attention. His expression coupled with the distorted view from the fishbowl lens was just too much.
“I’m going to unlock the door but count to ten before you come in. I’ve got to put on some clothes,” Hannah said peering through the hole. She saw a big goofy grin come over Cole's face.
“Shit!” she whispered again.
She unlocked the door and dashed to the bedroom closing the door. She tossed her tee shirt in the hamper, threw on a bra and frantically looked for the right clothes to wear. Cameron made it to five. She heard the door open.
“Coming in!” Cameron called out.
“Shit,” she muttered repeatedly.
He walked in and saw a hall that leads to a closed-door directly ahead. He assumed it was the bedroom and to the right that was the door to the half bath. The condo was nicely remolded creating an open floor plan with light hardwood flooring throughout. He entered the open area to his left taking in his environment.
The home was furnished in a modest contemporary style. The small condo’s kitchen had nice white shaker cabinets and granite counter tops followed by a dining table with four chairs and a living area with a grey sofa and side chair.
A large glass window and sliding door led off from the living area onto a patio overlooking the courtyard area. Cameron pictured himself sitting with her at the teak patio set and enjoying an evening. His world had changed, and he wanted Hannah to be a part of his new life.
Cameron could hear drawers opening and closing in the other room. He swore he could hear the word ‘shit’ being mumbled with each drawer closing.
The bedroom door opened and Hannah’s voice carried down the hall.
“Make yourself at home. I may have something you like in the fridge. Just help yourself.” The door closed again.
Cameron walked over yelled down the hall, “What are you doing?”
“Never you mind. Just give me a few minutes,” Hannah yelled back, holding a shirt up to see herself in the mirror.
She looked closer at her puffy eyes, threw the shirt on the bed, ran back into the master bath and started frantically brushing her hair and applying mascara to her eyelashes.
“Shit,” she muttered thinking about how this all was going down. She grabbed her electric toothbrush and shoved it in her mouth.
“Shit,” she said again, spraying the toothpaste foam on her mirror. She wiped the mirror and rinsed with mouthwash.
Cameron recognized the grey smart speaker on the wall table behind the couch. He had an idea.
He thought It’s now or never.
He gave a verbal command to the device to play ‘Unknown’ by Jacob Banks on all speakers.” The device repeated the order and complied. It was a song Jessica had put on his playlist, and for some reason every time he heard the haunting rhythm, he thought of his yearning for Hannah.
Hannah stood by the bed still undecided about what to wear. She buttoned the blue striped shirt when the small round smart speaker on her nightstand began playing the soft melody.
“Shit,” she whispered, frozen by the surprise of his forward move.
“Oh shit,” she whispered again, recognizing the intentionality of the song selection and hearing his footsteps on the hardwood floor coming toward her door.
She thought It’s now or never. She held her hand to her chest and felt her heart pounding. There was a soft knock on the bedroom door.
“Shit,” she said softly with resignation, yielding to the draw of her heart as Cameron slowly opened the door and moved to her.
He said nothing but slowly leaned in and passionately kissed her. She stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, her emotions racing as she invited him into her heart.
He leaned her against the wall and braced himself with his right arm. She held his face gasped for air between their kisses. He unbuttoned her shirt and explored her body with his left hand as she grabbed his collar and pulled him in. Their bodies bumped against the wall driven by desire.
She gently pushed him back, to catch her breath before saying, “Cole, it’s been a long time for me…”
Cameron put his finger to her mouth. “For me too,” he said, taking her by the hand to the bed.
A few minutes later, they laid together on the bed fully depleted, looking at the ceiling. Hannah rested her head on his right shoulder. Cameron pulled her dark hair back to see her face. Words were unnecessary. They simply enjoyed the moment.
Eventually, Hannah broke the silence, “I’m starving.”
“Me too!”
“Sorry, that’s not much in the fridge.”
“No problem. That’s why I came. I wanted to invite you to my home for dinner.”
“Oh Cole, I don’t know, your daughter may not like that idea.” Hannah got up from the bed to dress.
“Well, I mean I was inviting you over because I wanted her to meet the woman I’m taking to the Gala. That was before all of this,” he said waving his hand across the bed.
“What Gala?”
“Remember? I asked you out, twice I believe. And you conveniently never gave me an answer.”
“You asked me to ‘a thing’ as I remember. It was right in the middle of you tackling a terrorist. We were sort of busy, you know.”
