The Bin Laden Plot

52 ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Christine O’Connor entered the Carlyle restaurant in Shirlington fifteen minutes late for her 6 p.m. dinner date, reaching the second floor as a waiter brought Tracey McFarland and her husband another round of drinks. One of Christine’s protective agents took a seat at the bar, while another positioned himself at a two-person table reserved ahead of time, offering a clear view of the director and her dinner companions.

This was her third outing with Tracey, who had talked Christine into a double date this time. Christine had initially declined, with so much going on at work, then had reluctantly agreed to tonight’s date with a guy Tracey had highly recommended. Christine hadn’t let on, but Jake’s call today was fortuitous, since Christine had reconsidered and wasn’t looking forward to the event, giving her an excuse to cancel the date but still meet up with Tracey.

Tracey introduced her husband, Mike, who was an older but handsome guy.

“Sorry I’m late,” Christine said. “Got held up at the office. I also can’t stay too long. I’m taking Jake’s daughter to the gym tonight. She’s got a meet on Saturday and is having trouble with her beam routine.”

Tracy filled her husband in on Christine’s gymnastics pedigree.

“You certainly look the part,” Mike said.

His comment elicited a wry look from Tracey — commenting on Christine’s looks with the first sentence out of his mouth.

“What? I’m just offering a compliment. Christine looks great, especially for a woman her age.”

This time, his comment earned him an elbow in the side, since Tracey was a few years older than Christine.

The waiter returned with a cosmopolitan for Christine, and Tracey and Mike ordered dinner while Christine ordered just an appetizer, since she’d be heading to the gym soon. After the waiter took their orders, Mike headed to the bathroom.

“So, how are things going with double-O-seven?” Christine asked.

Tracey had found herself divorced a few years ago and, as an attractive woman in her forties, had enjoyed her newfound freedom, going through men like fashion accessories. Her friends had stopped learning their names and started giving them numbers. Tracey had eventually settled down and married number seven, and with Tracey being a CIA employee, it hadn’t taken long for her friends to nickname her husband 007. The moniker somewhat fit, since Mike was a retired CIA field officer, having spent twenty years in the Middle East.

“Things are good,” Tracey replied. “I’m jealous of his retirement. He’s staying busy, though, working forty-plus hours a week. But at least he’s doing something he enjoys instead of the daily slog at the agency. He’s building us a new house. General contractor and all that. Slow going, since he’s a perfectionist, but it’s almost done.

“How about you?” Tracey asked. “You clearly didn’t like the guy I picked out for tonight. But I’ve got a long list of men who’d look perfect on the CIA director’s arm. And a list of guys who wouldn’t.” She offered a mischievous smile. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

Christine laughed. “I’ll take ’em clean-cut for now.”

“Or I could find you a good Russian,” Tracey replied.

Tracey’s comment caught Christine off guard, unsure whether she was referring to her heritage — Christine was half-Russian — or her previous relationship with Russian President Yuri Kalinin. But one thing was clear — Tracey knew more than she should have.

“You’ve been snooping in my file?”

“I couldn’t help myself,” she said. “It’s that thing you’ve got going with Harrison. It’s not often that a director goes out of her way to hire someone, and not just once but twice.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Tracey nodded. “But only on the seventh floor. We’re pretty tight-lipped about stuff up there, so I wouldn’t worry about the underlings learning that you’ve got the hots for a married man.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Christine replied. “I respect his marriage and would never come on to him. It’s just that — I waited too long.”

“I’ll say,” Tracey replied. “You turned him down twice.”

“That’s in my file?”

“You bet. When you have a clearance as high as ours, they go all the way back to where you grew up. Interview your neighbors and friends, people you went to school with.”

Despite the security clearance investigations over the years, Christine had never seen the actual files — what they had gleaned and the corresponding assessments.

Tracey continued, “Jake even hung around a few years after you said no the second time. That’s dedication on his part, and stupidity on yours, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Christine swirled her drink, then took a sip. “I can’t argue there.”

Mike returned from the bathroom as the food was served.

The ensuing conversation with Tracey and her husband delved into numerous topics, and Christine lost track of time. She finally remembered her babysitting/gymnastics-training appointment and checked her watch. She should have left five minutes ago.

“I need to run,” Christine said. “I’ve got to pick Maddy up.”

As Christine reached into her purse, Tracey said, “We’ve got the check. Get going.”