ORAEFI
As he stared across the room in disbelief, Ryan Kealey fought to push down a surge of rising emotions. He was doing his best to keep them in check, but it just wasn’t working. Shock, anger, relief, and confusion were all hitting him hard, but the anger was steadily winning out. It was immediately obvious that he had been kept in the dark for a reason other than the one he had settled upon a few months earlier. After much internal debate, he’d decided that the woman he was currently staring at had left him simply because she needed some time and space to herself. It was the only thing that made sense, because their relationship could not have been better. With her sudden reappearance in this particular place, though, it was all too clear how wrong he had been.
“You knew?” he finally asked. It was a struggle to keep his voice under control. He had about a million questions to ask, but for the most part, he was still trying to figure out exactly what was happening here. “You knew where she was the whole time?”
“It was her decision to keep it from you,” Harper explained quietly, “and she came to me in the first place. I want to emphasize that.”
“When?” Kealey managed to ask. His gaze was locked on Naomi Kharmai. Her shoulders seemed tense, as though she could feel his attention, but he knew it was all in his mind. There was no way she could know the conversation had turned to her. She wouldn’t be able to hear them; the small fire didn’t do much to heat the large room, and the heating system was obviously in disrepair, as it was unusually noisy. “When did she contact you?”
“It was the first week of February. She was a wreck at the time, falling apart at the seams. If you could have seen her the day after she called, the first time I saw her, you’d know what I’m talking about. In other words, I didn’t have a choice. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Ryan. There was no way I could have turned her down, not after what she’s done for us. Not after the sacrifices she’s made.”
Harper paused to gauge the younger man’s reaction. When Kealey remained silent, he shifted uneasily, then went on with the story.
“She didn’t want to come to Langley. Not at first, and not as a visitor, so we met at a coffee shop in Georgetown. It was a pretty short conversation, and she did most of the talking. Basically, she wanted to come back into the fold, but she didn’t want to go back to London, and she didn’t want to return to the CTC. She wanted something else, and I made it happen.”
“What did she want?”
“To be completely honest, I didn’t even hesitate,” said Harper, pushing on. It was as if he hadn’t heard the question. “She was already more than qualified, and you know what I’m talking about, because you’ve seen it yourself. For one thing, she has a gift when it comes to languages. It’s amazing, really. She just soaks them up like—”
“John, what are you trying to say?” Kealey asked, making an effort to control his rising temper. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t been told about this earlier. “What did she want from you?”
“Training,” the other man answered simply. “She wanted training.”
Kealey wasn’t sure how to respond to that. As he tried to interpret the cryptic remark, Harper stood and collected his coat.
“I’ll let her explain the rest. As for what we discussed earlier, you’re already booked on a flight tomorrow evening. It’s not binding, of course, but I always travel hopefully. Take some time to think it over, but I need your decision by noon. That’s when the last bus leaves for Keflavík. And Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go too hard on her. She could use your support.”
Harper had paused on the way out the door to murmur a few words in her ear, but five minutes had passed since then, and Naomi still hadn’t moved. She hadn’t even glanced over her shoulder. From where he was sitting, Kealey couldn’t see her face, so he had no way of knowing what she was thinking. He could read her body language, though, and her tense, constant movements were saying a lot. She seemed to be pushing a glass back and forth in a deliberate way, as though turning something over in her mind, or deciding how best to approach their unexpected reunion.
Unexpected on his end, Kealey corrected himself. She must have known this was coming for quite some time. He desperately wanted to jump up and walk over, but he knew it was better to let her make the first move. They hadn’t seen each other in half a year, after all, and there was no point in pushing things now. It was a lot to take in. Her sudden reappearance had hit him hard, and he was still trying to figure out how to react. Unfortunately, he had run out of time to think it through. Without warning, she had climbed off her stool and started across the worn carpet. A few seconds later she slipped into the seat that Harper had just vacated, folded her arms across her chest, and fixed him with a steady stare. Her mouth was set in a straight, tight line. There was nothing apologetic about the way she was looking at him; in fact, it was just the opposite. It was almost as if she were upset with him, which didn’t make sense at all.
“Naomi,” he said slowly, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure what to say. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I haven’t seen you in months, and now you just . . .”
“I know. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. It just kind of happened that way.”
“How have you been?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then clamped it shut and looked away. It was a trite, obvious question, but it was the way he had asked it that made all the difference. The concern in his voice could not have been more genuine, and judging by the small frown that had crossed her face, he’d taken her by surprise. She probably expected him to be angry, Kealey realized, and on some level, he was. For the moment, though, he was just relieved to see her again. She was still distracted, so he took a second to look her over. The white cashmere sweater she was wearing was one of her favorites, as familiar as her snug, worn jeans and clunky heels. Her shimmering black tresses drifted around her face and over her shoulders, her bangs sweeping from left to right across her forehead. It was a slight variation on her usual style, and it served to conceal most of the pale, crooked scar that bisected her right cheek. It was the only mark on her otherwise flawless caramel-colored skin, which only made it that much more noticeable.
Most of all, he was struck by her posture, which was hard to read. She looked aggressive and defensive all at once. Her arms remained folded across her chest, and her jaw was clenched tightly shut. It was almost as if she were daring him to question the choices she’d made since their last conversation—the choices she’d intentionally kept from him for months on end.
Kealey couldn’t tell how much was show and how much reflected an actual change in her personality, but he didn’t think that her recent training at “The Farm”—the Agency’s main training facility near Williamsburg, Virginia—could have changed her this much. It was more likely that the trials she had gone through the previous year were really to blame. It was strange to see her this way, stripped of her innocence and naiveté. Mostly, though, it was just good to see her again, to know that she hadn’t succumbed to her inner turmoil.
“I’ve been doing okay,” she finally responded. The words caught Kealey off guard; he’d forgotten he’d asked the question. “Better since I went through the course at Camp Peary, anyway. What did Harper tell you?”
“Nothing, really.”
“He must have told you something,” she pressed. “What did he say?”
“He said you wanted to train.” Kealey hesitated. “Is that what you were doing at Peary? Training to go into the field?”
She nodded slowly. “You may not believe this, Ryan, but it was the right decision. The best thing I could have done, really. I needed a change, but it wasn’t just that. I needed to . . .”
“To what?” he asked, once it became clear she wasn’t going to finish. She shrugged and looked away. She was trying to project a degree of determination, but she couldn’t seem to pull it off. It was just as he’d thought; she might have changed on some level, but despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to fix what was truly wrong. It didn’t surprise him at all. From personal experience, he knew that the wounds inside—the ones that didn’t bleed and couldn’t be seen—were usually the worst, if only because there was no clear way to repair them.
“I can’t really explain it,” Naomi said, “but trust me, it was all for the best. It wasn’t about you, by the way. That’s not why I left, but . . . look, that’s beside the point. I’m here because I wanted to talk to you. To tell you in person. I think I owe you that.”
“Tell me what, exactly?”
“That I’m ready to go back to work.” She paused for a second to gauge his reaction. “Harper offered me this assignment himself. He said I was perfectly suited for it, given the Pakistani angle. There aren’t too many people who speak Punjabi in the Clandestine Service.”
“Surely more than one, though,” Kealey said, unable to keep the skepticism out of his voice. Although he cared about what she was saying, she had yet to bring up what mattered most, at least to him. He was trying to push down his bitterness, but he couldn’t hold it back entirely. “Interesting how you were the first person he thought of.”
She looked at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I don’t—” He stopped himself abruptly, not wanting to continue down this road. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in her mind, but he couldn’t force it out of her. If he pushed her away, she might disappear for another six months, and he didn’t think he could bear to lose her again. “I know you’re capable, Naomi. That isn’t the issue here. I just . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t think you’re ready.” She started to interrupt, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Just hear me out. You’ve done more in the past couple of years than most field operatives do in ten, and you deserve the chance to do more, if that’s what you want. But you have to give it time.”
“I have given it time.” She looked away, as though gathering her strength, then turned back to him, a hint of frustration rising to the surface. “I’ve given it nearly a year. What do you think I should do? Just quit? Harper picked me for this himself. He thinks I’m ready. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“He doesn’t think you’re ready, Naomi. That was a lie. Don’t you see what’s going on here?” He shook his head angrily, wishing he could make her understand. It was all coming up, all the frustration and pain of the past six months, and despite his best efforts, he could no longer hold it back. “It’s all bullshit. He’s just using you to get to me. I’m sure you—”
“That’s so arrogant,” she said, bolting up in her seat. Her dark green eyes were wide with anger as she punched a finger across the table. “I should have known you’d say something like that. You may not believe it, Ryan, but I have changed, and I’m more than capable of doing what needs to be done. Ask the instructors at the Farm if you don’t believe me. Ask them about my scores on the range. I’m not an analyst anymore, and I’m not going to step aside. If you don’t want any part of this, there are plenty of qualified people at Langley who’d love to fill your shoes.”
“Look, I’m not trying to say you don’t have what it takes,” he said, backpedaling quickly. Then he caught himself and stopped. He couldn’t keep playing it safe; he had to tell her what he really thought. He desperately wanted to keep things civil, but she was the one who had walked out without saying a word. She was the one who’d left him hanging for months on end, and now she was dropping another bombshell: the fact that she’d just taken on another, much more dangerous role at the Agency, barely ten months after a lesser role had nearly taken her life. It was just too much to take in at once, and her aggressive attitude was only making things harder. “I just don’t want you to jump into something you can’t handle.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward, imploring her with his eyes. “Have you really moved past it, Naomi? Do you really believe what you’re saying right now? I was with you when you went through the worst of it, remember?”
Her face darkened as she stared across at him; clearly, she wasn’t prepared to back down, much less admit he was right. “Ryan, you haven’t seen me in six months. I don’t care what you believe. I’m not the same person I was back in January, and you know what? I’m not entirely sure I want to work with you on this. Especially if you’re going to fight me the whole way.”
Kealey looked at her in disbelief, at a complete loss for words. It was clear she’d been expecting an argument from the very start, and she wasn’t about to deprive herself. In short, she was telling the truth. She was acting like a completely different person, so unlike the woman he’d known six months earlier. So unlike the woman he loved.
“What about us?” he asked quietly. He deeply resented being forced to ask the question; it felt too much like he was pleading with her. But he had to know, and she was clearly unwilling to broach the subject. “I thought we had something good. Is that over now? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
She didn’t respond for a long time, but a familiar look crossed her face, and for a split second, she was the same person she’d been the last time he saw her: hurt, scared, and vulnerable. When she finally spoke, it was in a low voice, her eyes aimed down at the table. “I don’t know, Ryan. Please don’t make me think about that right now.”
He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. “Naomi, I—”
“Look, I can’t think about it,” she repeated, snapping her defenses back up in a heartbeat. She looked annoyed, as if he’d tricked her into giving something away. “Besides, that isn’t the issue here. I just want to know one thing, okay? Are you in or out? If you don’t want to go after Saifi, if you don’t want to help find those missing tourists, just say so. I can do it myself.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked. He kept his voice low and calm, ignoring her show of bravado. “Do you want me to turn Harper down? Would that make it easier for you?”
She searched his eyes for a few seconds; clearly, she was trying to assess his sincerity. “It’s up to you, Ryan. I can’t make the decision for you. But if you don’t think I’m ready, we’re obviously not going to be able to work together. Maybe you should . . .” She looked away uneasily. “I don’t know. Maybe you should tell him you don’t want any part of it. Maybe that would be best for both of us.”
He shook his head and looked down at the table. Her words had stung him deeper than she could have possibly known. When he finally lifted his head, he realized she was no longer glancing away. She was staring at him intently, waiting for his answer. Her stubborn, uncompromising gaze knocked something loose inside, and when he spoke, his words were just as hard and combative as hers.
“Unfortunately for you, Naomi, you can’t stop me from getting involved. I really don’t want any part of this, but I can already tell you’re not going to give me a choice. So if I can’t talk you out of it, then I guess you’ve found yourself a partner. Bear in mind, though, that I’m only doing it for one reason.”
“Yeah?” She squared her shoulders, her eyes flashing in response to his tone. “And what’s that?”
Kealey stood up and snatched his jacket off the back of his chair.
“To make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He turned again and walked to the door, regretting the conversation more and more with each weary step he took. He didn’t know what could have happened to change her this much, but he knew he wouldn’t rest until he had figured it out. In the meantime, all he had to do was keep her out of harm’s way. Easier said than done, said a little voice inside, but he pushed it down. He had done it before, and he’d do it again. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, regardless of how she felt about it.