Fog of War

Epilogue

Justin was not sure if McClain had planned a scolding session about the gunfire in the famous Spanish tourist beach, the explosion aboard the catamaran, or both. He was bracing for a fierce lashing as he entered McClain’s office. The last time he was here, he got away with a light slap on the wrist. He feared he had played all his good cards with McClain.

He was surprised and pleased to find his boss in a cheerful mood. McClain invited him to sit on a comfortable chair across his large desk.

“You’re probably wondering about the Spanish investigation,” McClain said after they exchanged pleasantries. “You will be glad to hear they’ve decided to close the case.”

Justin nodded. The Spanish police had made him slightly nervous when they briefly arrested him, claiming they were going to keep him locked up until his trial. That was before they verified his credentials and his status as a Canadian diplomat.

“They chose to believe the version of self-defense,” McClain continued, his eyes focused on Justin’s face. “Though we both know it was far from it.”

“I’m not in the habit of shooting my bosses, former or current,” Justin replied, trying to lighten up the situation. “Well, unless they betray their country and unleash a horde of terrorists after me.”

McClain frowned. “The Spanish did us, well, you, a favor. These things can’t happen again on their soil. Unauthorized shootings and killings. I gave them my word. I’m not in the habit of breaking it.”

Justin nodded. “These will not happen again, sir,” he said, although they both knew he could not promise that would be the case.

“Was there another way to bring Johnson in?”

Justin hesitated. “Perhaps. But she left me with no options.” His voice turned low, his face grew dark. “I saw it in her eyes, just before the final shot. She knew what she was doing. She had decided she was not coming in alive. Even in her final act, she tried to kill us both.”

McClain nodded.

“She didn’t want a trial,” Justin continued, “the bad press, the shame, the humiliation of being convicted as a traitor. In this way, we have only allegations.”

“Yes. Her family and her friends will never learn the truth. But at least she’s no longer a threat. We’re no longer bleeding secrets to our enemies.”

Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Any intel she may have stolen and given to someone else?”

McClain shrugged. “Not as far as we know. But we can’t exclude the possibility.”

Justin bit his lip and did not say anything.

“What exactly happened to Nathan? In your report you said he was wounded and unable to take part in the chase.” McClain picked up a brown folder from his desk.

Justin smiled. “Yeah, didn’t want to embarrass him. Johnson’s bodyguard was waiting in our hotel suite. He knocked out Nathan when he realized he was not me. When he woke up, Nathan found himself handcuffed to his bed post.”

McClain flipped through the folder. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Falling into a trap happens to everyone.”

“Nathan thinks otherwise. He asked me to keep this out of the official report. He doesn’t want it on his record with the Service.”

“That’s fine by me.” McClain tossed the report back on the table. “And on the topic of things kept out of records and reports,” McClain said, “our friend at CIA has resigned for personal reasons.”

“Adams?”

McClain peered at Justin over his glasses. “You have other friends at CIA?”

“No, not really.”

“Mr. Adams resigned so he could spend more time with his family.”

“The same family he successfully ignored for the last twenty-five years?”

“Well, he’s on his third wife. Maybe he’ll make it work with this one. But don’t expect any gifts at the end of the year from CIA.”

“I didn’t get anything last year either. Did you?”

“Uh-uh. Nothing for Easter or Christmas. Seriously though, they’re quite pissed at our trick. They insisted we should have gone to them, and they would have handled the matter discreetly. Like they gave us intelligence about our traitor.”

“It was not the same. Adams was not our kind of traitor. He was still a part of the intelligence community, a vital part, but caved in to blackmail. He was doing everything to hide his mistakes at the expense of the US and her allies. Johnson wanted revenge. Adams wanted survival.”

McClain leaned back in his seat. “Survival which he got. CIA is not and will not admit anything. They’re sending Adams away to close this scandal.”

“I hope he truly goes away and doesn’t come back seeking revenge.”

“Yes, I hope not.”

McClain took a sip from his coffee mug. Justin had declined his offer to have someone bring him a drink.

“NYPD found the second man involved in the NY car bombing. He died in a shootout with police earlier today,” McClain said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Justin replied.

“Have you heard from Carrie?” McClain asked. “She sent me an e-mail from Grozny, saying she was expecting some good news.”

“Yes. She came into some information about her father’s grave from one of the investigators she hired in Grozny. They’ve discovered some remains that could be her father’s. A witness testimony and some paperwork seems to indicate that much. She’s arranging for DNA tests.”

“I hope it’s a conclusive match. She needs closure.”

“Yeah. It would be good for her. Allow her to move forward with her life.”

“And Romanov?”

Justin tried to read McClain’s face. Unable to do so, he asked, “What about him?”

“Where do you two stand now?”

“We’re on good terms. He came through with information that helped us get rid of Adams. We’ve settled our differences.”

“That’s good. As much as I dislike saying this, we may need him, well, his influence, on another matter.”

McClain pulled open a drawer and retrieved a black folder.

“Is this it?” Justin asked.

“No, this is your next assignment. Unrelated to Romanov or this previous mission.”

“How urgent is it?”

“Utmost.”

“Where is it?”

“Somewhere hot, very hot.”

“When do I need to leave?”

“Right away.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

Justin smiled. “I’m ready,” he said and reached over for the file with his new assignment.