Vengeance

40 NSA BAHRAIN

After boarding the Black Hawk helicopter at Natanz, it had been a quiet trip back to Bahrain for Harrison and the other team members. Upon landing, Leviathan’s wound had been tended to and confirmed not to be life-threatening. The mission debrief took several hours, after which the team was released for the rest of the day, with Harrison and Khalila scheduled to begin their return trip to Langley the next morning.

It was 1 p.m. by the time Harrison opened the door to his room, an upgrade from standard barracks but not by much — about half the size of a standard hotel room — but at least it had an adjoining bathroom with a shower, plus a window offering a view of the warships tied up along the waterfront. It had been a long night in Natanz and he hadn’t gotten much rest during the return trip; he had kept an eye on Leviathan in case his wound was more serious than it appeared. After being awake for more than twenty-four hours, he crashed on the bed for a few hours.

He slept fitfully, his dreams filled with images of Angie, Maddy, and Christine, until he woke late in the afternoon. As he lay in bed, he tried to make sense of the fragmented images. Angie, Maddy, and Christine were the three persons he had loved most in his life, but instead of love and warmth, pain and anguish had permeated his dream.

In Angie’s case, it had been another twisted nightmare where he had tried another strategy to save her from Mixell’s insanity, convinced that this time it would work. Instead, Angie ended up dying in his arms again; he would never forget those last moments as she looked up at him, the light fading from her eyes until they froze in place. His dreams of Maddy were frequently the same, starting with his daughter sitting on Mixell’s lap at the dining room table, Mixell’s knife hovering near her neck. The outcome each time was far worse than what had actually happened, with Maddy ending up on the floor beside her mother, her neck slit, or lying on the barn floor, her head cracked open by Mixell’s shovel.

In his dreams, Christine never died. Instead, she took pleasure in inflicting pain. In this afternoon’s dream, he was back in his house again with Angie lying beside him while Christine tried to extract the gun from Mixell’s hand. She was successful, as she had been that night, but this time, instead of attacking Mixell, she had aimed the pistol at Harrison and fired.

In each nightmare, the scenario involving Christine was either a perversion of what had happened that night or a snippet from their past that had previously held a promise of happiness, only to be replaced with pain and anguish. For some reason, her rejections of his marriage proposals were frequently replayed in his dreams.

As kids, they had been almost inseparable, primarily because both had first-generation Russian mothers who frequently got together, leaving Christine to play with Jake and his two older brothers. Jake always got saddled with the girl, whether they were playing board games or running around outside. As they grew older, Christine chose to hang out with the boys in the neighborhood, even deciding to go by Chris instead of Christine. Her mom’s exasperated efforts to transform her from a tomboy into a proper girl had repeatedly failed. However, nature had eventually taken care of things, and as she matured into a woman, the boys who used to consider her just one of the gang began to look at her differently. By the time they were freshmen in high school, Jake and Christine had started dating.

He had proposed to her twice, and she had rejected both proposals. The first time, they had both just graduated from high school and Christine had been on her way to college on a gymnastics scholarship. She hadn’t been ready to be a wife yet, and certainly not a mother. He waited another four years until she graduated from college and proposed again, but by then Christine had landed a job in Washington, D.C., on Congressman Tim Johnson’s staff, beginning her meteoric rise through the ranks until she ended up with a corner office in the White House barely twenty years later. She’d be ready to get married soon, she kept saying.

Christine was an intelligent and beautiful woman who was intent on climbing the professional and social ladders in Washington, D.C., and it eventually became obvious that she didn’t want to be encumbered by a Midwestern farm boy. After waiting ten years, he realized that he would never be good enough for her and moved on, proposing to Angie a year later. Christine had called the following month, saying she was finally ready. She hadn’t heard the news. He loved Angie, but he sometimes wondered how different things would have been if he had waited just a little longer.

As he lay in bed, memories of his time with Christine flitted through his mind until a knock on the door interrupted his reverie. He opened the door to find Khalila dressed in gym shorts and a sports bra.

“I’m going for a run. Want to come along?”

He considered her offer for a moment, his thoughts still filled with snippets of Angie, Maddy, and Christine. “Yeah, I could use a run.”

She stepped inside and waited while he changed into running clothes. After working closely together during their previous missions, she didn’t seem fazed as he stripped down and changed, and he didn’t mind her presence either. Although they had shared the same bed on occasion, she had made it clear each time that the sleeping accommodations were a “hands-off” arrangement, which suited him just fine, since he’d been married to Angie at the time.

“Do you have a route picked out?” he asked after he finished dressing.

“Along the base perimeter on the way out, then back along the waterfront. Five miles sound good?”

Harrison nodded.

Daylight had begun to fade by the time they began their run, with the temperature in the Middle East country easing below ninety degrees. He let Khalila set the pace, which was brisk for the average woman and provided a decent, but comfortable workout for Harrison. True to her usual aloof nature, she said nothing while they ran. His thoughts focused on Mixell, envisioning various scenarios where his former best friend would meet his demise in the most excruciatingly painful way possible.

Halfway through their run, they cut across the base toward the waterfront, then began their journey back toward their rooms. Khalila had previously proven to be a fast runner, almost keeping up with Harrison while chasing down a suspect in Sochi, Russia. As far as long-distance runs went, he didn’t know what speed she could maintain, but decided to find out.

He picked up his pace, pulling away from her. It wasn’t a blistering speed, considering the heat, at least not for a recently retired Navy SEAL, but there were few women, he reckoned, who would be able to keep up. A moment later, she pulled up beside him. When he glanced at her, he noticed a smile she quickly erased once she noticed his glance. She kept up, but he could tell she was straining. Only two more miles to go.

By the time they returned to the barracks, the sun had begun slipping below the horizon. They stopped at Harrison’s room, where he unlocked and opened his door, then turned to Khalila.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower, then grab a bite to eat. Want to join me?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be ready in a half hour. You?”

“I’m ready now.”

Her response confused him for a second, then he figured she was comfortable heading out for a bite to eat still in her workout clothes, which meant they’d be hitting the base cafeteria rather than venturing out in town. Although Bahrain wasn’t as conservative as other Middle Eastern countries, it was still an Islamic nation with dress standards that residents and tourists were expected to observe. Her exposed shoulders and bare legs and midriff would not have been well received. Her next words, however, clarified her previous response.

“I said I’d join you, but I wasn’t talking about dinner. I was referring to the shower.”

She pushed Harrison backward, following him into his room, then closed the door behind her.

“I no longer have to keep you at arm’s length,” she said, “hiding my true identity from you. Plus, you’re no longer married. Our previous personal rules of engagement no longer apply.” She leaned back against the wall. “I can either leave or join you in the shower. Your call.”

Harrison was stunned by the sudden turn of events. Until this moment, Khalila had been clear that their partnership would remain purely professional. Now, she had unexpectedly offered to take their relationship to the next level.

But it was too soon.

Angie had been dead for only a few months, and becoming romantically involved with another woman so soon after her death felt like a betrayal.

Khalila seemed to read his mind. “I realize that your heart still aches for Angie. But at some point, you need to move on. One day, when you’re ready, you’ll find the right woman to spend the rest of your life with. Today, however, I’m the woman who wants to be with you, no strings attached.”

As Khalila leaned against the wall, he couldn’t keep his eyes from surveying her body. Six foot tall with an athletic build and attractive face, her beauty was undeniable.

And difficult to refuse.

“Stay.”

Khalila approached him and offered a passionate kiss, then kicked off her shoes and stripped the clothes from her body. She headed toward the shower.

“Don’t be long.”

It was dark when Harrison awoke. Khalila lay beside him beneath a thin bedsheet, her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. She eventually rose and he watched her sleek form, faintly illuminated by the waterfront lights, as she picked her bath towel up from the floor and wrapped it around her body, then sat on the window ledge. He watched her for a while, her knees pulled up against her chest as she stared into the darkness. He sat up and pulled on a pair of shorts, then stopped beside the window facing her, leaning against the wall. She seemed not to notice.

“Still wrestling with demons?” he asked.

Khalila nodded, then turned, her eyes locking onto him. “I thought things would be better after I killed the DDO. But nothing has changed.” She fell silent for a short while. “I fight for honor,” she finally said, “but whose honor? My family’s or my own? In my attempt to obtain redemption for the evil perpetrated by my family, I myself have done evil. I’ve killed many, hoping for resolution, but the guilt and shame remain. Yet I’ve seen you kill men time and time again without a flicker of remorse. How do you do it?”

“I fight for my country,” Harrison replied. “I think it’s as simple as that. I’ve committed evil, as you say, but good has come from every one of those evil acts. For people like us, I think what matters is — at the end, which way do the scales tip?”

She considered his words, then nodded subtly. “By the way, tonight was a one-time deal. If you recall, I don’t get attached to my partners. Besides, when I said that one day you’d find another woman to spend your life with, I lied. You’ve already met that woman.”

“Who’s that?”

“Tonight, you talked in your sleep. Chris. Is that Christine’s nickname?”

Harrison pulled back slightly, unsure whether he was more surprised that he talked in his sleep or that he had mentioned Christine. “There’s no telling what I was dreaming about when I mentioned her name. But what’s certain is that I want nothing to do with Christine.”

Khalila smiled. “I’ve known since the first meeting with you and Christine at Langley that there was something special between you two. You can deny it if you want, but you were still in love with her when you were married to Angie.”

Harrison looked away.

“Interesting,” Khalila said.

“What?” Harrison turned back toward her.

“You kill without remorse, but the fact that you were in love with Christine while you were married fills you with guilt and shame.”

“I moved on from Christine years ago. I loved Angie, and she’s dead because of Christine!”

“I didn’t say you didn’t love Angie. Only that you still love Christine.”

“You’re grossly mistaken. As Angie died in my arms, I promised her that I would make those responsible pay for what they’ve done. I will end Mixell’s life, and although I can’t hurt Christine, my relationship with her, even as friends, is over.”

“You can’t put Christine’s actions in the same category as Mixell’s. I think I can say with certainty that if she had known your involvement in Mixell’s case would have led to your wife’s death, she would not have brought you into the agency.”

“It’s too late now, isn’t it? And why are you such a fan of Christine all of a sudden?”

“Because Mixell deserves your hate. Christine does not.”

Harrison folded his arms across his chest. “We’re done talking about Christine.”

His statement hung in the air until Khalila stood. “In that case…” She pulled the towel from her body, letting it fall to the floor.

As she approached him, Harrison said, “I thought tonight was a one-time deal.”

“It is. The night’s not over.”