“I just sent one of my boys to pick him up. He’s in the Las Colinas area. He said when he and Roberto were driving through there, Roberto asked Ben if he would mind stopping by a street vendor’s flower stall and buying his wife some flowers. When Ben opened the cargo doors of the van to put the flowers inside, Roberto hit him over the head. He lost consciousness, and when he came to, he was lying in an alleyway behind a bar. That’s when he discovered Roberto had taken his gun and left with the van. The kid still had his phone, so he called me to say he thought Roberto might be headed back over here.”
“Why didn’t he call Olivia?”
Wylie grinned. “Do you really need to ask me that? If she hears Ben let Roberto get to him, she’ll put him on a spit and roast him like a pig. She already thinks Ben’s not suited for field work as it is.”
“You’re right.”
“So you agree we should keep Olivia in the dark about exactly what went down here with Roberto?”
Wylie took my comment further than I’d intended it, but I considered what he was suggesting.
I made a quick decision.
At the time, it seemed like the right decision, but, later on, I had to do a lot of soul-searching about what we finally agreed to do.
I nodded. “I’m in; otherwise, Ben’s days at the Agency are over. And now that our guys have no chance of interrogating Ahmed at Gitmo, I doubt the DDO will honor the agreement I made with Roberto to let him leave Venezuela with his family.”
“Yeah, Ira will probably want to punish Roberto by alerting the Venezuelan authorities their trade minister just murdered someone.”
“I can’t let that happen.”
Wylie and I quickly initiated a series of actions to cover up what had gone down with Ahmed, beginning with when he showed up at the front door.
First, Wylie called Buck and Cindy into the kitchen so he could have what he called a “heart-to-heart” talk with them, while I went out to the living room to have my own little chat with Roberto.
He was still sitting on the sofa, but the shock of what he’d done seemed to have worn off.
When he saw me, he got up off the sofa and pointed down at Ahmed’s body.
“I did everyone a favor by getting rid of him.”
I didn’t dispute his sentiment, but I didn’t endorse it either.
“I’m about to do you a favor, Roberto. In the next few minutes, someone will drive you over to where your family is staying. Then, they’ll return in a few days to take you and your family to the airport, where you’ll catch a flight to Argentina.”
“You’re letting me go?”
“As long as you agree to forget what just happened here.”
He thought about my offer for all of two seconds. “Of course. That’s not a problem.”
He stuck out his hand to seal the deal, as if we’d just negotiated a trade agreement.
After a brief pause, I shook his hand and said, “I’m only doing this because I believe you’re genuinely sorry for making decisions that put your family in jeopardy and cost you the life of your son.”
He looked me in the eye. “I’ll never forgive myself, and I’ll never act so foolishly again.”
“Here’s a little tip for you, Roberto. If you’re really interested in turning over a new leaf, try searching for answers in the Bible. There’s a lot in there about forgiveness and acting like a fool.”
He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
I was pretty surprised at it myself.
Wylie appeared in the living room with the same beefy looking guy who’d delivered Roberto to me the day before. He indicated Mr. Beefcakes would be taking Roberto to be reunited with his family, and seconds later, Roberto followed him out the door.
Once they were gone, Wylie and I got our stories straight about what we were going to tell Olivia, and when Mitchell arrived a few minutes later, he was the first of many people to hear the tapestry of lies we’d woven together.
“What happened here?” he asked, taking in Ahmed’s dead body and the Glock resting at my side.
I said, “He went for his gun, and I had to shoot him.”
* * * *
I told Mitchell when Ahmed showed up, I had immediately disarmed him, but I had continued to pretend ignorance of his spare gun, thinking it might give him the false impression he had the upper hand and would answer my questions.
I admitted this was a miscalculation on my part, because I got distracted, and that’s when Ahmed went for his spare gun.
I said, “I shot him before he was able to get to it.”
Mitchell walked over and looked down at Ahmed’s body.
“It looks like you shot him several times.”
I didn’t comment.
Mitchell asked, “What distracted you?”
“Now here’s the thing,” Wylie said. “Titus could have been distracted by any number of things. We’ll just have to think of the most plausible one.”
A light suddenly went on in Mitchell’s eyes, and he turned to me for affirmation.
“Roberto shot Ahmed, didn’t he? Why are you covering for him?”
“Look at the alternative.”
Mitchell pieced it together. “When the Agency finds out Roberto killed Ahmed, they’ll refuse to help him leave Venezuela. They’ll throw him under the bus.”
“Right.”
He said, “It’s partly my fault. I let him talk me into getting those flowers. I should have refused, and then none of this would have happened in the first place.”
Wylie said, “We’re going to make it look like it didn’t happen. Or rather, we’ll make it look like it happened in a different way.”
Mitchell asked, “Where’s Roberto now?”
Wylie looked at his watch. “He should be in the arms of his family by now. One of my boys drove him over there after he agreed to keep quiet in exchange for the Agency’s help in getting him to Argentina.”
Mitchell glanced over at me. “Are you okay with this? If you take the blame for shooting Ahmed, you’ll end up being grilled, and as I’m sure you already know, the DDO won’t be happy about the way things have turned out here.”
“I can handle it.”
Wylie said, “Not only is Titus saving Roberto’s life, he’s also making sure you’re not stuck behind a desk shuffling papers in the Agency’s archives for the rest of your career.”
Mitchell looked at me. “Is that true?”
I nodded. “Olivia will make sure of that. She can be pretty revengeful when someone doesn’t follow through on her meticulous plans.”
Mitchell said, “So I’m supposed to say I delivered Roberto to his family without incident, and when I came back here, I found you staring down at Ahmed’s dead body?”
“That’s it,” Wylie said, slapping Mitchell on the back. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be a quick study. Shall I call Olivia and tell her about the shootout now?”
“What about the audio recording?” Mitchell asked. “What happens when Olivia or someone in the Ops Center listens to the tapes?”
Wylie said, “Buck and Cindy already took care of the tapes. For some reason, the recording equipment malfunctioned right before Ahmed showed up here. It went kaput. Happens all the time. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?”
Wylie said. “That’s it. Ready for me to make the call to Olivia now?”
Mitchell didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it.”
And so we did.
* * * *
A few hours later, Olivia, Mitchell, and I landed at Del Caribe Airport in Porlamar and an hour after that, we boarded a flight for Miami. In Miami, before we got on our plane to Washington, I was able to wander off by myself and call Carlton.
“What went wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. Everything. But we got Ahmed.”
“Olivia said you shot him.”
“He went for his gun.”
�
�No chance for you to have a conversation with him?”
“He wasn’t much of a conversationalist.”
“I was told there was no audio of your encounter.”
“I heard there was some kind of equipment malfunction.”
“Deputy Ira won’t be pleased. With Ahmed dead, he won’t be able to crow about snatching up another terrorist and shipping him off to Gitmo.”
“The DDO is about to have more pressing matters to deal with than a dead terrorist.”
“If you’re referring to what Roberto said about Iran using chemical weapons on the homeland, you’re right.”
“Have you been able to locate any sources in Syria to collaborate Roberto’s story?”
“We’re working on that, and Katherine’s also looking into Rehman Zaidi’s connections in Syria.”
“That could be my next assignment, Douglas. Once Katherine uncovers Rehman Zaidi’s connections, you’ll need someone to go to Damascus and penetrate that network. It only makes sense for me to be the one to do that. I know the background, and I’m fully briefed in already.”
There was a long pause, and then Carlton said, “As far as I know, Titus, you’re still on the Deputy’s blacklist. After you’ve been debriefed, I fully expect him to reinstate your medical leave and send you back to Oklahoma again.”
“I haven’t redeemed myself by taking care of Ahmed?”
“Probably not.”
Chapter 45
Wednesday, June 13
Early the next morning, after Olivia, Mitchell, and I had spent the night in The Gray and were getting ready to be debriefed in the conference room on the lower floor, I invited Olivia to join me on the patio for a cup of coffee.
She sat down next to me in one of the lounge chairs and pointed out toward the horizon where the sun could be seen peeking through a thick grove of trees.
“Remember those beautiful sunrises we used to see when we’d do our morning jog together?”
“If I think back far enough, I can, but I don’t ever recall hearing you express any appreciation for them.”
“Since there are a limited number of sunrises in my future, I’m just grateful to see another one.”
“About your future, Olivia. You should schedule your surg—”
“Don’t lecture me, Titus. It won’t do any good.”
“Would it do any good for me to ask you why you insisted on having Ben drive Roberto to the safe house yesterday?”
She took her eyes off the sunrise and looked at me. “Like I told Ben, he was the logical person to do it.”
“No, he wasn’t. Sam could have had any of his team members escort Roberto over there. I believe you had another reason for getting Ben out of the house before Ahmed arrived.”
“Which was?”
“You were following the DDO’s instructions and trying to keep Ben away from the action. You didn’t want him exposed to the inevitable adrenaline rush of capturing Ahmed and being hooked forever on the covert life.”
She took a sip of her coffee before answering me. “You’re right, but I was also trying to protect him in case something went wrong, and the Senator found some reason to blame me.”
“Since things turned out the way they did, it appears you made a wise decision. Now, if the Senator’s upset because Ahmed wasn’t able to give us any good intel, he’ll blame me, and Ben shall forever remain guiltless.”
“The Senator will be more interested in the intel Roberto gave us about Syria’s chemical weapons than with anything Ahmed could have told us.”
“Have you read Roberto’s statement yet? The one I had him type up on the computer?”
“Not yet. Buck said he was sending it to the Ops Center. Didn’t you read it?”
“No, I never got the chance. I presume it’s the same stuff he told me verbally.”
Being presumptuous in a life-and-death situation is never a good idea.
* * * *
Following our five-hour debriefing, I asked Greg if he would give me a ride over to Langley to retrieve my Range Rover. When he agreed to do so, I told him I’d meet him in the driveway, and while I was standing there, I noticed Olivia getting in the car with the DDO for the ride back to Langley.
She saw me staring at her as they drove off, and she gave me a brief wave through the tinted glass. Obviously, we weren’t going to have a tearful goodbye or it’s-been-nice-working-with-you-again moment.
And that was fine with me.
However, had I known the next time I saw her, she would be hooked up to an assortment of machines and surrounded by a bunch of doctors, I might have felt differently.
A few minutes later, Mitchell showed up in the garage looking for me.
“So you’re headed back to Oklahoma?” he asked.
“The DDO has reinstated my medical leave.”
Mitchell motioned toward the path leading down to the lake. “Let’s take a walk. There’s something I want to ask you.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go down to the boathouse.”
He laughed. “Okay. Let’s walk over here then.” He pointed to the other side of the circle drive where the previous owner had erected an elaborate gazebo.
As we walked over there, Mitchell said, “The Deputy has offered me a position on the Latin American counter-intelligence team. I’ll be overseeing the Central American group as the top security analyst.”
“It sounds like a good opportunity for you,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “Are you going to take it?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you. Do you think I should? It would mean getting out of field work, but Olivia told me I wasn’t really suited for it anyway.”
I decided to tell Mitchell what he needed to hear and not what the Senator or the DDO wanted me to say.
“No, Ben, I don’t think you should take it. You’re a natural covert operations officer. You’ve got all the necessary skills to excel at running assets and conducting operations, and I’ll prove it to you.”
We’d reached the gazebo, and I quickly scanned the structure just to make sure the Agency hadn’t decided to install security cameras inside.
Satisfied no one was monitoring our conversation, I sat down on one of the benches and said, “When we were interrogating Roberto and he asked you about Ernesto’s last words before he died, I was surprised to hear you say Ernesto had told you about going fishing with his dad. That wasn’t true, was it?”
He smiled. “No. I just made that up. Ernesto was mumbling something about fishing before he died, and I just took a wild stab in the dark, hoping that was something they’d done together.”
“Okay, that proves my point. You know how to read people and use that knowledge to achieve an objective. An analyst interprets facts and data; a covert operative interprets people and situations. You’re still green, but you’re better at the latter than the former.”
He thought about what I’d said for a moment. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind when I make my decision.”
“The reason Olivia doesn’t think you’re a good operations officer is that you have a tendency to get emotionally involved with the players. I know firsthand such empathy will get you into a lot of trouble.”
He didn’t respond, and I thought he looked uncomfortable as he thought about my observation.
I said, “It happened yesterday, didn’t it?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Sure, you do. You empathized with Roberto’s hatred of Ahmed for killing Ernesto, and you despised Ahmed for being responsible for Toby’s death. That attitude caused you to be less vigilant about Roberto’s intentions in asking you to buy his wife some flowers. Or maybe I’m wrong, and the two of you conspired together to concoct the story about Roberto hitting you over the head and taking your gun. Which was it?”
His facial expression was a mask of contradictions. “I’m standing by the explanation I gave the debriefing committee.”
I smiled at him. “Good answ
er. Exactly what you should have said.”
My praise seemed to take him off guard, and he quickly looked away.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, I decided to ask him another question. “Tell me, Ben, what’s the one thing you need in this world in order to be happy?”
It only took him a few seconds to respond. “My independence.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
I got up from the bench and offered him my hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Ben. I’d advise you to consider learning Arabic and then asking for a transfer to the Middle Eastern desk. No one should have to work with Cartel Carlos for more than five years.”
After he shook my hand, he said, “Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”
It turned out to be sooner than either one of us could have anticipated.
* * * *
Once I’d retrieved my Range Rover from the parking lot at the Agency, I gassed it up and headed for Oklahoma. When I stopped for the night outside of Louisville, Kentucky, I called Nikki.
“Hi, it’s me, Titus.”
“Well, hi, yourself.”
“I was able to wrap things up a little quicker than I’d anticipated. I’m headed back to Norman now, and I should be there around five o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“Is that when you want me to bring Stormy over to your place?”
“Yes. I’d also like to take you out to dinner then.”
“It’s a date.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too. See you then.”
Before hanging up, she added. “And, Titus, I have some news to share with you.”
“Good news or bad news?”
“I’ll let you decide that.”
Chapter 46
Thursday, June 14
It was late afternoon when I pulled up at the security gate outside my newly acquired residence on East Tecumseh Road in Norman. After I entered my code and the gate swung open, I drove down the long winding road to the ranch-style farmhouse.
Before leaving Norman, I’d left the management of the thirty-acre property in the hands of Eric Hawley, the real estate agent who’d sold me the property in the first place. I was happy to see the acreage had been recently mowed, and some of the dead branches on the trees bordering the lake had been removed. Someone had also planted some flowers at the side of the house, but I suspected Nikki had done that.
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