by Liz Borino
“Not just. We made love for many reasons. Distraction was a fringe benefit, at best,” Aaron said.
Jordan moved his hand away from Aaron’s side.
“Hey, no, that’s not fair!” Aaron protested. “Withholding affection is emotional manipulation.”
“Withholding information is worse,” Jordan countered.
“Nothing bad,” Aaron told him. “I set up a time to hang out with Troy two Saturdays from now.”
Jordan blinked and put his arm around him again. “That’s the only way to collect the evidence.”
“We’re watching movies at his house.”
“No.”
Aaron squinted at him. “Did you tell me no?”
“Uh-huh, and I’ll do it again. No. You are not spending time alone with him at his house,” Jordan said.
“How else am I going to find documents, files, communication records, or anything else we need?”
“It isn’t safe,” Jordan emphasized. “Besides, you know what ‘watch movies’ means.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Aaron pulled away and stared down at him. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do. To the ends of the earth and back. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and I can’t throw him far from across town.” Jordan sat up.
“Jor, listen to me. There is no point in spending time with him if not to get access to these accounts. That video recording won’t do shit to prove his guilt. It’s illegal, and won’t stand up in court,” Aaron pleaded. “We need something concrete.”
Jordan blew out a breath. “Unless he hands you the evidence, you’re obtaining it illegally.”
“Right, but bank statements and email exchanges from the enemy are going to be a lot more convincing than vague references to his sources,” Aaron said.
“Damn you for being smart and hot,” Jordan muttered and kissed him. “You will wear two paper ants and if I lose signal, I will show up.”
Aaron smiled. “Yes, sir.”
Jordan blinked. “I think you want round two in opposite positions.”
Shrugging, Aaron replied, “I wouldn’t argue …” He may have had more to say, but Jordan’s cock inexplicably filled his mouth.
****
Jordan rode the elevator up to the fifth floor of the pentagon for a meeting with Colonel Bryant that Thursday. A meeting that he hoped would go better than their last. He hobbled out of the elevator on his crutch, counting down the days until the cast came off. Four now. Jordan entered Bryant’s office, and they exchanged pleasantries.
“Captain, I called you here today to share some great news, but first, I wondered if you could confirm the placement of the prison where you were kept in Kabul,” Bryant requested, sliding a map of the Afghanistan capital over to him.
Jordan scanned the paper and placed his finger on a spot in Shar-e-Naw. He had memorized a similar map while planning his escape.
“How far from the American Embassy did you say it is?” the lieutenant colonel asked.
“About a half a mile,” Jordan replied, wondering if Bryant was going to ask him to repeat his escape plan again.
“Perfect!” A wide grin spread over his commanding officer’s face. At Jordan’s confusion, Bryant explained, “We’re developing a mission to bomb the prison.”
“You’re... bombing the whole prison?” Jordan blinked. “Is that the good news?”
“Yes! I know you believe that an American government official ordered your death, but it makes far more sense that Nadar and his constituents manufactured the story so you doubted your government,” the lieutenant colonel told him.
“What about the civilians?” Jordan asked, once he could moisten his mouth enough to get the words out. What about Adeela?
“The prisoners? We’ll raid the facility first and rescue them. The only people left will be Nadar, his wife, and the people following his orders.”
“His wife? What has she done?” Jordan nearly shouted.
“Control yourself, Captain! What has gotten into you?” Colonel Bryant demanded.
“Anwar Nadar is a terrible man who deserves to be prosecuted, but are we really in the business of killing by proximity now? Is that the America we’ve been fighting for? If so, thank God I got out.” Jordan stared him down.
“Tell me why she would not be guilty of aiding him,” Bryant implored.
Because she’s not. “She saved my life multiple times, sir.”
“That’s her job.”
Jordan shook his head. “Her job is to keep the prisoners alive. She made a choice to give me the best medical care she was able. She would not have done that if she had been actively working against the American agenda. Adeela Nadar is not the enemy.”
Colonel Bryant shuffled papers into a folder. “You make wild statements that I have increasing problems believing, but because we have worked together so long, I will give you a shot to prove it. If she will help us in our mission, she will be spared.”
“And given United States citizenship?” Jordan asked.
“If she so chooses, yes, but if she won’t aid us, I don’t want to hear any more protests from you. Are we understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Jordan answered and hobbled out after his commanding officer dismissed him. Did I really say that about the United States? That could have gotten me disciplinary action in and of itself, Jordan thought as he rode down in the elevator. He walked through the hallway leading to the library to find Aaron with headphones on, the veins in his forehead signaling deep concentration. Jordan sat next to him, torn between pulling him from his work so they could go home where he’d be able to talk to Adeela, and letting him finish. Jordan passed the time by playing on his phone.
“Hey, I didn’t see you there,” Aaron told him after a few minutes. “How did it go?”
Jordan offered a small smile. “I seem to have borrowed your mouth. I’ll explain later. Are you all right to leave?”
Aaron scanned his work. “I can do the rest at home.” They packed up and made their way to the car.
Once there, Jordan recounted the conversation with Bryant.
Aaron’s pause filled the car with a heavy silence that Jordan feared contained judgment, but Aaron said, “I’m proud of you. But… what are you going to tell her?”
“The options are describing the exact plan of attack, instructing her to get out of the area, or asking her to help,” Jordan replied. If he went with option one he was committing treason. On the other hand, option three asked the same of her. Option two appeared to be the best solution, but that only offered her short-term safety unless the American government had proof of her innocence. But how could Jordan ask her to do something he was not willing to do? “What if I gave her the choice of what she’s told?” Jordan posed.
“Do you think there is even a fraction of a possibility that she would choose less information?” Aaron threw back. “And you missed an option. You don’t have to say anything at all to her.”
Jordan huffed out a breath. “I can’t risk her dying because I did nothing.”
Aaron stopped the car in front of their house and smiled at him. “I know, and I respect you for that, too. If it makes you feel better, one and two would have the same end result, she’d be out of harm’s way without aiding an enemy. Option two has the advantage of keeping your conscience clear.”
“If she hides, they’ll search for her,” Jordan countered.
“That makes sense to tell her,” Aaron said with a kiss to Jordan’s cheek.
They walked into the house and Jordan signed onto their secure server while Aaron resumed work a few feet away. Jordan held his fingers above the keys, trying to come up with the right words for the email. He finally decided on: “Please call me on Skype. It’s important.” After a glance to the clock and simple math, Jordan deduced that it was around eleven p.m. there. What if she couldn’t get back to him until the morning because Anwar was there? What if she said no? That was a possibility Jordan had to come to
terms with. Skype’s notification box popped up on the bottom of his screen. He answered the call with a shaky inhale. “You’re up late,” Jordan greeted her.
Adeela’s smile contained a hint of sadness and the crevasses on her face appeared deeper under the fluorescent light. “I must be awake when Anwar comes home. His meeting will run until the early hours,” she replied. “What’s important?”
Jordan opened and closed his mouth several times. “I can get you out.”
“How?” The question seeped with hopeful trepidation.
He glanced at Aaron, who took off his headphones and sat next to him.
“Hello, Aaron, do you approve of this plan?” she asked. They had explained the fact that Aaron worked with Jordan until the last deployment, which made her more comfortable sharing information.
“I approve of anything that ensures your safety,” he responded. “We’re not sure if you will agree, though.” Aaron squeezed Jordan’s hand softly.
“Go on,” she prompted.
“My commanding officer does not believe that an American official sanctioned my death, or those of the five POWs who were killed prior to my mission, because they haven’t found proof in the surface sweep they conducted,” Jordan explained. “Therefore, they’re placing the blame solely on Nadar and the people who work for him.”
“Because blame can’t be shared,” Adeela commented.
“That, and the US is never wrong.” Jordan rolled his eyes for effect, but his heart raced. What the fuck am I doing? I should have written out a script. “The Army is planning an attack on the prison. If you help, you’ll be given full United States citizenship.”
“When? Help who?”
“I don’t know when. The officer may have told me had I not lost my mind at him. And… help the United States Army.” Jordan’s heart jumped to his throat.
“If I don’t help enemy forces to attack my country, I will die?” Adeela asked, her tone measured.
Jordan met her eyes across the computer screen. He had no answer for her.
She took several deep breaths. “What would you do?”
“Live,” Jordan answered the easiest question anyone he had been asked him all day. “I would live and I would want those I cared about to live, by any means necessary.”
“Can you guarantee me that I will?”
“If you provide information that helps us capture Anwar and the guards who tortured and killed the Americans, then yes, I will personally make sure you live.” Jordan did not know how, but he would find a way to ensure her safety. Fear and uncertainty flashed across her face. He had no words of comfort to offer.
Though it appeared she didn’t need comfort. Her expression changed to one of peace and acceptance. “All right, Jordan, I trust you. Tell me what to do,” Adeela said, lifting a weight off of Jordan.
Chapter Ten
“Take your pain pill,” Aaron told Jordan, who limped around on his walking boot nine days after having the cast removed.
“Can’t if I’m going to drive,” Jordan replied, taking a seat on the couch with his laptop.
Aaron arranged his DVDs in their holder, placing the shortest up front. Those would be the ones he offered to watch with Troy. “You aren’t driving. I’m going to complete this mission while you edit your pro-con list of the PhD schools for the hundredth time.” What Jordan would really be doing was watching the surveillance video.
“I have to be able to drive if the need arises,” Jordan said.
Aaron bent down and kissed him. Jordan had been in more pain since they removed the cast than he had been in weeks prior. “It won’t. I’ll be fine. I have Fluffy here if anything happens.” Aaron patted his sidearm, tucked into his pants’ cargo pockets. He was grateful to have obtained his concealed weapon license before the laws became ridiculous.
Jordan laughed and kissed him again. “It disturbs me that you named your pistol Fluffy.”
“Yeah, but it also makes you laugh. Fair trade,” Aaron said. He touched the paper ant on the middle of his back and the one on the top of his jeans while watching Jordan’s computer screen light up with images of what was in back and in front of him.
“I only want you to do this once. So, last time, what’s the plan?” Jordan asked.
“I go early because he’s having computer problems.” Aaron paused when Jordan raised his hand.
“How do you know he’s having computer problems?” Jordan asked.
“I’ve been monitoring the email with a virus that I sent from my ‘hacked’ account. He opened and downloaded it.” Aaron smiled and continued, “Because I’m a good friend, I’ll offer to fix it. Unfortunately, by the time I arrive, his hard drive will be destroyed. At some point, he’ll leave the room. I’ll take that opportunity to copy the backed up files onto my USB stick and then destroy his external drive.”
“What about his email accounts?”
“His passwords are taped to the bottom of the desk drawer. I’ll take a picture of the paper with my phone.”
Jordan pulled him down for another kiss. “I love you. Be safe.”
“I love you, too. And I will,” Aaron said, grabbing the keys and leaving the house. Upon arriving at Troy’s, Aaron did one last check of his pockets: phone, keys, flash drive, and Fluffy. He picked up the DVD holder from the passenger-side seat and strode to the door.
“Aaron, you’re early!” Troy greeted him.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t you say one?” Aaron asked with fabricated confusion.
“Um, maybe, I thought it was two-thirty,” Troy responded.
“Oh. Two-thirty? That would be a shame. I need to get home by five to make the mashed potatoes for dinner tonight. My father-in-law is coming over.” Aaron stopped himself from providing too many details as that was a well-known sign of a liar. He would avoid tipping Troy off if he could prevent it. “I can come back if it’s a bad time.”
“No. No. Come on in,” Troy rushed out. “Just give me a few minutes to finish updating my computer. It’s been giving me problems.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Aaron asked.
“It’s not opening or saving documents like it’s supposed to. So, I’m trying a system reboot,” Troy explained. He glanced from Aaron to the computer. “I think your email was hacked.”
“Oh, shit, you’re right. Someone else mentioned that. Can I help?”
“Would you mind? I’m not great with that stuff.”
“Not a problem at all. It’s sort of my fault,” Aaron told him.
“No, it’s not.”
“Still, I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to work on your day off,” Troy edged.
“What are friends for?” Aaron smiled sweetly at him. A sense of this being too easy washed over him, but he pushed it away as he logged into the computer on safe mode. Troy had already run the usual scans. Found nothing. Aaron ran them again to appear busy. “The anti-virus software needs to scan your external drive,” he informed Troy.
“The virus couldn’t reach the external drive,” he replied too quickly.
That’s where I need to be. “Yes it can, especially if the drive was connected to the computer.” At his hesitation, Aaron added, “Trust me, Troy. Your porn collection will shock me far less than it would the Geek Squad.”
Troy laughed. “You’re right. Taking it to the Geek Squad is definitely not an option.” He connected the drive. “I need a drink. Can I get you anything? Beer, wine, smoothie?”
“Smoothie?” Aaron cocked his eyebrow.
“Yeah, I make a wicked banana-strawberry blend,” Troy said.
“I’ll try some of yours. Thanks.” Not that Aaron would drink anything the man gave him, but it would keep him busy for a while. After taking the promised picture with his phone, Aaron inserted his USB drive into an appropriate slot and scanned all the documents on the external-drive then copied them onto his, and tucked it safely away in his pocket. He leaned back in the chair to check that Troy was still
occupied then transferred the virus from Troy’s computer onto the drive where the files were. A few more key strokes and… Blue screen of death. Bingo. “Oh, shit, Troy. I’m sorry,” Aaron called.
“What did you do?” Troy demanded.
“I ran the virus program that you had started,” Aaron told him. He became aware of the weight of the gun in his pocket as Troy stared fire at him.
“How did a virus protection program set off a virus?”
“Worsened it, actually. It had already been harming the system, but between the updates and trying to remove it… I’m sorry,” Aaron said. Please don’t panic, Jordan. I got this.
Troy took a few deep breaths. “I guess it would have happened to anyone. I’m sorry, too, but I have to get someone else to come over and take it apart. I store a lot of very important files on there.”
“Doesn’t the CIA have a tech department? They’d want to keep your important files safe.” Aaron pushed the USB drive further into his pocket.
Troy bit his lip. “It’s, um, not my work computer. I’d rather them not see that I keep important files on more than one machine. You know how they get about security. We wouldn’t want Top Secret information falling into the wrong hands.”
“No. We certainly wouldn’t.” Aaron gathered his keys and DVDs, and added, “We’ll hang out another time.”
“Absolutely,” Troy responded, glancing from Aaron to the computer.
“Sorry again. I didn’t mean to.” Aaron left after Troy offered his reassurance again.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan wrapped Aaron in a hug as soon as he entered the house. “You are crazy, and I love you.”
Aaron chuckled. “I know. I love you, too.” He tossed the USB drive with the files on the desk. “Now that we aren’t going anywhere, you can take your Percocet while we go through files.”
Jordan opened his mouth to come up with another excuse for why he couldn’t do that, but his ringing phone interrupted him. His father. “Hold on a second,” he directed to Aaron. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?” He didn’t have time for a discussion about Wheel of Fortune or lecture on seeing each other more.