Pursuit of Honor

CHAPTER 66

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

THE match was a blowout. McLean was up 14-1 over their hated rivals the Langley Saxons. The difference this year was Rory Nash and everyone knew it. The thirteen-year-old had eight of his team’s points. Nash watched intently as Rory sliced through the Saxons’ defense. Any other game he’d be on the bench at this point, but McLean’s coach wanted retribution for last year’s blowout. Langley had one big defender whom Nash had been watching all game. He had reminded his son before the game to keep an eye out for him. The kid was a head taller than every other player on the field and was known to lay out at least one opponent per game. As Nash looked out on the field Rory was moving from right to left cradling the ball. He sliced between two defenders and it looked as if the big kid from Langley was finally going to get his shot at Rory. At the last second, though, Rory slammed on the brakes and pulled off a perfect roll dodge. The big kid sailed past Rory with an angry grunt as he tried to command his large frame to do the impossible. Rory closed on the goal, moving to his left as he went. He faked once and froze the goalie and then again as he closed the gap. His feet were dancing along the edge of the crease. He faked low to get the goalie to bite and then the stick snapped around the back of his head, the ball arching softly through the air to the opposite side of the crease, where one of his teammates snatched it and snapped it into the open net.

“Sweet!” Jack yelled.

“Yeah,” Nash agreed with some relief. “Your brother shouldn’t even be in there right now.” Nash looked farther down the sideline in search of his wife. She was standing about twenty yards away talking to two of the other mothers. She smiled at her husband and pointed at him. The other two mothers turned and waved at Nash. They were smiling and nodding as Maggie whispered something to them. Nash cringed. He was not used to all this attention. From the moment he had arrived at the field, people had been talking and pointing.

“Dad,” Jack said, as he looked up, “are you famous?”

The comment hit Nash like a slap in the face. He felt himself getting angry, but told himself to take a deep breath. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. He was only ten. “No, Jack, I’m not famous.”

“Well . . . you kind of are. Your photo was on the front page of the paper this morning and you were all over the news last night.”

“Just because you get your picture in the paper doesn’t mean you’re famous.”

“That’s not what my friend Scott said.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Jack. I’m not famous, all right?”

Maggie walked up just in time. She slid her arms around his waist and gave him a big hug. “You’re quite the topic around here.”

“Oh . . . God . . .” he moaned.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy it?”

“Because it’s not who I am. I haven’t changed. I’m the same guy who’s been going to these games for I don’t even know how many years. The only thing that’s changed is everyone’s perception of me.”

“A perception that’s based on the truth. These people now know who you work for and what you’ve been doing, and I have to tell you,” Maggie said as she lowered her voice, “some of these ladies, like Stacy and Claudia, it’s a huge turn-on for them. Very sexy that I’m married to a spy.”

“I heard that,” Jack said without taking his eyes off the field. “Gross.”

Maggie grabbed him and pulled him in for a group hug. A second later the whistle blew and the game was over. As the two teams lined up to shake hands, Nash began looking around the park for his daughter.

“Where’s Shannon?”

“Not sure.” Maggie looked toward the playground. “There she is- pushing Charlie in the swing.”

Nash watched her push the green bucket that her baby brother was in. He felt a pang of anxiety and asked, “Do I have to let her drive home?”

“Yes,” Maggie said.

“She’s not very good. I mean, don’t get me wrong . . . she’s a great kid, but she can’t drive.”

“Michael, she just got her permit this morning. Do you expect her to be a great driver on her first day?”

“I don’t expect her to be perfect, but . . .”

“But what?”

“She sucks, Mom,” Jack said.

Maggie grabbed his cheeks. “Oh . . . Jack, sometimes, I swear.”

“Mom,” Jack said while shaking free of her grip, “I’m not saying she’s stupid or a bad person. I’m just telling you the truth. She’s a bad driver.”

“Well, maybe you and your father can walk home.”

Jack took a step back to get out of his mom’s range and said, “Can we, Dad? Do you know how funny that would be . . .”

“Jack Nash.” Maggie reached for him, but he was too quick. He scampered onto the field in search of his brother. “He takes after you,” she said to her husband.

“I think he has more than a little of his mother in him.”

“The smartass part comes from you.”

“And the psycho stubborn part . . . who do you suppose he gets that from, you?”

Maggie was on the verge of upping the ante when an elderly couple approached them. “Excuse me,” the man said, “Mike and Maggie Nash?”

The Nashes nodded.

“I’m Charlie Kelly. This is my wife, Mary.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nash said as he shook the man’s hand.

“My grandson plays for Langley.”

“Ohh . . . great,” Maggie said.

“Not today. Your boy pounded us. Pretty damn good player,” he added gruffly.

“Thank you,” Nash said.

Kelly looked across the field, his cloudy blue eyes unfocused, his bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. “I just wanted to say hello.” He couldn’t look at Nash. His wife hung close to his side. “And thank you. I was in the Navy and then I put in forty years at Langley. Clandestine service . . . operations . . . spent most of my time in Europe. What you did,” he finally looked at Nash, “it made a lot of us proud . . . and there’s not many of us left.” He shook his head and then said, “I just thought you should know that.”

Nash was caught off guard. He stammered for a second and then said, “Thank you, sir.”

“Charlie,” the old man said, “please call me Charlie.”

“I will. Thank you, Charlie.”

“Well . . .” he said as he looked toward the cars. “We’ll see you around.”

“Sure,” Nash said.

“Very nice to meet you,” Maggie said. As the older couple moved toward the parking lot, Maggie said, “That was nice.”

“Yeah. We don’t do enough to celebrate those guys.”

Jack returned from the middle of the field with Rory and a couple of his teammates. “Mom,” Jack said as he came speeding up, “are you really going to let Shannon drive?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, young man.”

“Well, if she is,” Jack suddenly produced Rory’s lacrosse helmet, “I’m wearing this.”

“Okay, that’s it . . .” Maggie took a step and reached out to grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt but again he was too quick. He darted off across the field. Maggie composed herself as she came face to face with Rory and his two friends. “Nice game, honey.”

“Thanks,” Rory said. “Can Will and Ben sleep over?”

“Well,” Maggie said, caught a little off guard, “your father and I are going to dinner, so Shannon is going to be in charge . . .” Her voice trailed off and she turned to her husband to see if it was okay.

“Nice game, boys,” Nash said.

“Thanks, Mr. Nash,” the two boys said in unison.

“I’m fine with you guys staying over. Have you asked your parents?”

Both boys said they would and ran off to find their parents.

“We’re going to dinner tonight?” Nash asked his wife.

“Yes,” she said with a big smile. “I haven’t spent five minutes alone with you in the past week. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll eat someplace close by.”

“Wherever you want, honey.”

“Italian?” They started walking toward the cars. Rory ran ahead to see what Charlie and Shannon were doing.

“Sure.”

“And then when we get home?” Nash asked with a hopeful tone.

“We can play spy and you can show me your gun.”

Nash laughed. He looked at Shannon pushing Charlie in the swing. Watched him scream as his brother ran up with his arms out as if he were Frankenstein. Charlie cut loose an earsplitting shriek of terror and then began laughing. Nash smiled and thought to himself, This is the way it’s supposed to be.