The Bin Laden Plot

14 SILVERDALE, WASHINGTON

Angie Harrison fluffed a couch pillow, then stepped back and examined it with a critical eye. She straightened a corner, then surveyed the couch and the rest of the living room again. After ensuring everything was in its place, she stopped in the foyer and inspected herself in the mirror. For this afternoon’s visit, she had picked out a pair of capris and a shirt that accentuated her figure.

Looking out the dining room window, she searched for a sign of the expected guest. But there were no cars on the long road approaching their house in the countryside. That wasn’t unexpected, however. Christine O’Connor was supposed to call when her meeting at the nearby Naval Undersea Warfare Center had ended and she was on her way, and there had been no word thus far. Angie checked her watch. She should be calling anytime now.

Angie entered the kitchen and stopped by the sink, looking out the window. A light mist was falling from a gray overcast sky, but that hadn’t stopped Jake from working in the backyard.

They were both so predictable.

Several months ago, they had both spent the hours before Christine’s previous visit the same way: Jake working in the yard to take his mind off Christine, while Angie worried how she would measure up to the woman Jake had dated for ten years and proposed to twice. Angie had met Christine for the first time four months ago, and it was obvious that Jake’s former flame was a beautiful, accomplished, and powerful woman, while she was…

Angie caught a partial reflection of her face in the kitchen window. She was attractive, no doubt. She turned heads when she entered a room, and she could have dated almost any man she wanted in high school and college. But she still felt inferior to Christine. The woman who had spent three years as the president’s national security advisor and was now the director of the CIA was in a different league from someone who was a member of an elementary school’s parent-teacher association.

The phone rang, and Angie let the answering machine pick up. It was Christine, letting them know she would arrive in fifteen minutes. After she hung up, Angie took a deep breath, then opened the back door and yelled to Jake, letting him know Christine was almost there.

She returned to the living room and waited, checking over her shoulder occasionally to see if Jake had come in from the yard, until she spotted a black SUV with two men in the front seats approaching. The vehicle pulled into the driveway and stopped. Christine stepped from the vehicle and walked to the front door, accompanied by one of her protective agents holding an umbrella over her, shielding her from the misty rain.

Angie glanced over her shoulder again. There was no sign of Jake.

Damn him. Leaving her alone to greet Christine again.

She waited for the doorbell to ring, then after one last glance in the mirror and a rearrangement of a wayward lock of hair, she opened the door.

“Director O’Connor, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Angie forced the words out.

“Please, call me Christine,” the CIA director said as she entered the foyer.

The protective agent, after a quick look inside, returned to the SUV.

“Thank you again for accommodating my visit on such short notice,” Christine said as she accompanied Angie through the living room and into the kitchen. “During my last visit, I forgot to mention what a lovely home you have.”

Angie was sure Christine didn’t mean it. Her home was nice, but it surely didn’t measure up to the luxurious homes and mansions Christine would have visited during her career in Washington. But at least Christine was trying to be nice. They stopped at the kitchen window, looking out over the backyard. Jake was edging a flower bed with a straight-edge shovel, cutting back the intruding grass.

“That’s so like him,” Christine said. “Trying to take his mind off things.”

“Yeah,” Angie said as she was hit with a twinge of jealousy. Christine knew Jake as well as she did, and maybe even better.

Angie opened the back door. “Jake! Christine’s here!”

Harrison looked up, then stowed the shovel in a nearby barn before trudging toward the house in the light rain. Angie disappeared into an adjacent laundry room, returning with a towel she tossed to her husband as he entered.

“Hi, Chris,” he said as he dried his face and hair.

“Hi, Jake,” Christine replied, then smiled warmly.

Jake didn’t return the smile. He gestured toward the kitchen table, and all three took their seats. Harrison draped the towel around his neck.

“What’s so important this time?” he asked.

Under the table, Angie placed her hand on Jake’s thigh and squeezed it gently, showing her appreciation. Prior to Christine’s arrival, they had discussed her pending visit and potential reasons why — most likely another CIA job offer. Angie had pointed out that Jake had agreed years ago to take a safer job after retiring from the Navy, one where he didn’t put his life on the line every time he went to work. Jake had loved being a SEAL, but it was time now to think of Angie and their twelve-year-old daughter, Madeline, and the impact on them if anything happened to him. His first responsibility was to his wife and daughter now, not his country. He had already served it well.

Following Jake’s retirement, Angie had looked forward to the end of sleepless nights, lying awake wondering if she and Maddy would ever see him again. But then Jake took the CIA job, and a few weeks later, she had received the call she had always dreaded. Jake was in a hospital in critical condition, and they didn’t know if he was going to make it. She had left Maddy with a friend and flown to Virginia, joining Jake in his hospital room after his surgery. He’d been lucky. Although Mixell’s first bullet had been the most painful, shattering a shoulder blade, the second one had almost killed him, narrowly missing his heart.

Jake’s wounds had finished healing and he had quit the CIA, finally putting the high-risk jobs behind them. Upon learning of Christine’s visit today, Jake had agreed to decline another job offer if she presented it — there was no reason for him to return to the CIA.

Christine’s response, however, changed everything.

“Lonnie is alive.”

A cold shiver ran down Angie’s spine. Jake’s body tensed, but his facial expression remained unchanged. She imagined that the same thoughts going through her mind were going through his.

Mixell had a vengeful streak and wouldn’t stop until he paid Jake back for betraying him. She ought to know — she had dated Mixell for a year. That’s how she’d met Jake. The two men were still best friends back then. But her relationship with Mixell didn’t last; he had anger management issues.

“Also,” Christine said, “John McNeil is dead.”

“I heard,” Harrison replied. “I’m planning to attend his funeral. But what does that have to do with Mixell?”

“Lonnie was the sniper who tried to assassinate the secretary of the Navy. He missed and killed McNeil instead.”

Harrison’s face hardened at the news. “That bastard. But I’m surprised he missed — he’s an excellent marksman. How far away was he?”

“I don’t know the details, other than he was in a hotel across the street. You can look into things if you’d like, once you return to Langley.”

“Is that a job offer?”

“It is.”

Angie exchanged looks with Jake. Now that they had learned Mixell was still alive, she already knew what the answer would be. But Jake said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

The front door opened, then slammed shut, followed by the sound of someone running through the house.

“I’m home!” a young girl called out. “I’ll be upstairs getting ready for gymnastics!”

“That must be Madeline,” Christine said. “How old is she now? Twelve?”

Angie nodded. Christine had been keeping tabs. But when had she learned Maddy’s age? After Angie and Jake married, he supposedly hadn’t kept in touch with Christine. Then Angie recalled that Jake had run into Christine several times over the last few years while on various missions, saving her life twice.

However, things hadn’t gone quite the same during his last SEAL mission, even though he’d run into Christine again. Jake’s SEAL team had been escorting the Russian president from his Crimean summer home during a military coup, with Christine accompanying them. She’d been visiting the Russian president at the time, no doubt taking international relations to a new level. During their escape, Christine and the Russian president had slid toward a cliff overhanging a raging river a hundred feet below. Jake had managed to grab ahold of them, one in each hand. His grip on both began to slip, and he’d been forced to make a decision — he could save only one of them. He had let go of Christine.

She had survived the fall but had been none too pleased about Jake’s decision. The next time she saw him, she punched him in the face. They seemed to have worked things out, but the scenario atop the cliff brought Angie comfort. Not because Christine had almost met her demise but because Jake had been forced to choose and he had let Christine go.

There was the sound of feet pounding on the wood floor again, and Maddy burst into the kitchen as she asked, “Have you seen my purple leo?”

She stopped suddenly and examined the stranger at the kitchen table. When she realized who she was, her eyes grew big. But not because Christine was the CIA director — Madeline had no idea — it was because Christine had been a collegiate national champion on the beam.

Harrison made the introduction. “Maddy, I’d like you to meet Miss O’Connor.”

Madeline shook Christine’s hand as words tumbled from her mouth. About how much she’d heard about her, that she was a gymnast too, what level she had attained, and which skills were the most difficult for her.

“The beam is my weakest event,” Madeline said. “I have trouble with the back handsprings. But Dad says if I work hard, I might become a national champion, like you.”

“There’s no substitute for hard work,” Christine said. “It all starts there.”

Angie checked the clock on the wall. “Your leo is hanging in the laundry room. Better finish getting ready for practice. Miss Young will be here in a few minutes.”

Madeline collected her leotard, then either because she was excited to meet Christine or wanted to impress her, she exited the kitchen via a back walkover, keeping her legs straight and feet pointed as they passed overhead.

After Madeline disappeared from sight, Christine smiled. “She’s adorable.”

Jake and Angie talked with Christine for a few minutes more until they heard a car pull up and honk. Madeline yelled goodbye as she bounded down the stairs, the front door slamming shut a few seconds later.

“Well,” Christine said as she stood, “I should be going now too.”

Harrison and Angie walked Christine to the front door, where she shook Angie’s hand. Then she turned to Jake.

“This time, we’re going to put Mixell away for good, one way or another.” She extended a hand. “Let me know what your decision is.”

Jake took Christine’s hand. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss O’Connor.”

Christine offered a wry smile at Jake’s formal goodbye, then departed.

When he closed the door, Angie leaned against the foyer wall, tears in her eyes.

“I know you have to take this job,” she said. “Lonnie will eventually come after you, and the sooner he’s back behind bars or dead, the better. But be more careful this time. Maddy and I can’t afford to lose you.”

“I can take care of myself,” he replied.

“Tell that to the two bullets they cut out of you.”

“They weren’t the first.”

Tears fell down Angie’s cheeks.

Jake wiped the tears away. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. We’ll find Lonnie and either kill him or put him in prison again, and this time he won’t get out. I’ll be safe. You and Maddy will be safe. I promise.”

“Okay,” Angie said, forcing a smile. “But I’m still worried. Not just about Lonnie but about Christine.”

“You have nothing to worry about. During my last stint at Langley, I barely saw her. She was at three meetings the entire time I was there, and we barely spoke. It’s not like I’ll be working in the field with her.”

“It could be different this time,” Angie replied, “and working closely with her could rekindle your feelings toward her.”

“You know I love you more than — ” Harrison halted, regretting his poorly chosen words. When they had discussed Christine before, he had insisted he no longer had feelings for her.

Angie felt the heat rise in her neck and face. “You said there was nothing left between you. But you still love her, don’t you?”

Harrison tried to salvage what he could. “Chris is nothing more than a friend now. The only woman I love and care about is you.”

She poked her finger into his chest. “I know that deep in your heart, there will always be a special place for that woman.”

Harrison pulled Angie close and kissed her, then held her for a while, caressing her back.

Then he slid his hands down and grabbed her butt. “And I know that deep inside you, there will always be a special place for me.”

Angie rolled her eyes. “You have a one-track mind. And don’t change the subject!”

“Interested?” Harrison asked.

She eyed his wet shirt and the specks of dirt clinging to his skin. “You’re filthy.”

“I’m jumping into the shower. Care to join me?”

“Maybe,” Angie said, reaching behind and pulling Harrison’s hands from her butt. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”

She bolted from the foyer. Harrison started after her, catching her as she reached the stairs. He snagged a foot, tripping her onto the steps. She turned onto her back, screaming in mock fear as Harrison dragged her toward him.