Integrity, p.20
Integrity, page 20
I ran my hands over my stomach, fingers splaying unconsciously. He’d spaced each of the stab wounds out, so that after two I simply didn’t have enough hands or reach to keep pressure on all of them. And I’d almost maniacally moved my hands over the wounds like a sick version of Whac-A-Mole as blood soaked my shirt and seeped through my fingers. I’d stared at my blood, wondering if Elaheh knew I was there. If they’d tell her a blond American Intelligence woman had killed her brother. If she’d connect the dots and figure out it was me, and who I really was. If she’d ask to see my body once I’d died from the stab wounds.
Sophia had remained mostly silent during my monologue, and now she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly as if everything she thought of to say felt wrong. After twenty seconds, she finally got a breathy word out. “Fuck.” She exhaled, and managed a few more shaky words. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. You are fucking incredible. So brave. I’m so sorry.”
Bravery. Never a concept I’d thought to apply to myself in any aspect of my life. I’d killed someone and even though I knew rationally that it was justified, I still hated it. In the years since, I’d learned that guilt comes in waves and it’d been months since it had last washed over me. I paused, waiting for the burn. But it never arrived. I smoothed my hand over my right arm and left it there, covering that white scar that was a perfect rendition of his bite mark. “Thanks,” I whispered.
“When did it happen?” she asked.
“Early 2017.”
“I can’t even imagine how you, the general you, could do that. What it must have taken to be that strong.”
“I don’t know and honestly, I’m not sure I ever will. And I don’t know if it’s strength so much as…perseverance maybe? Like I said, movies make it look effortless and painless and fast. It’s not. And it’s all mental because even if you’re evenly matched, physically, there is always going to be someone who has one more punch or knife thrust because they can overcome the fear and pain and fatigue. And you have to make sure that person is always you, even if they’re biting you and squashing you and you’re so tired and thirsty that you’re almost delirious. You can never give up, otherwise it’s over.”
Sophia smiled sadly. “I wish I had that kind of fortitude.” She lightly dragged her fingertips up and down my stomach, now studiously avoiding the scars. The touch made me shiver.
“I don’t know that it’s fortitude so much as a stubborn kind of stupidity. I just don’t know how to quit, I’ve never known how. If I can see even the slightest hint I can keep going then I will.” I laughed, though the situation wasn’t exactly humorous. “Do you remember that motivational poster that was everywhere around like…the early 2010s? Maybe earlier, or later. I don’t know. But anyway, it’s the stork eating the frog and the frog’s got its hands around the stork’s throat. ‘Never ever give up’ I think it used to say. That’s me. A frog against a flock of storks.”
Her mouth twitched into a small smile. “Watching you work, I can see that.”
“Mmm. I’ve given everything I have to my job, Sophia, because I believe I’m truly doing good, and keeping people and their way of life safe. I know it might seem over the top at times, but…” I shrugged. “This is who and how I am.”
“I like how you are. Your integrity is admirable.”
Admirable but also sometimes to my own detriment. The sound that came out was half laugh, half scoff. “I can’t quit, I won’t until I know I’ve reached a complete dead end. While I can still see backroads and little paths I can try then I have to do that. This is just how I am.”
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t like the danger, but I like knowing you’ve been out there doing your thing so I can be safe.” She shrugged, a sheepish smile curling those full, soft lips. “I know it sounds trite and basic, but…”
“It does make me feel better.” I rolled over and pressed myself to her, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. I wanted to bury myself in the warm safety of her body and never emerge. I kissed her shoulder, the smooth, soft edge of her breast. “As does this. As do you…”
I stood beside the external door to the deserted hotel gym at four a.m. and app-dialed Derek. The call was against my better judgment but rehashing the incident that had led to my diced-up torso made me think of him. And though I was sure he knew I was alive, he deserved a check-in.
“Martin.” My last name was a relieved exhalation. “You secure?”
“As I can be.”
“Intact?”
“Aw, you’re worried about me. How sweet. I’m fine, but annoyed. I had an uninvited guest a few days ago. Who are they?”
“They’re who you think they are.”
Yay, government. Suspicions confirmed. Hadim’s intelligence had a big fish on the line. “I have someone with me. Someone who probably shouldn’t be unwillingly involved in this, if you know what I mean.” It was a pointless thing to tell him—they would know Sophia and I were still together. But reminding him of that fact couldn’t hurt.
“I know. But what makes you think I can tell them anything about you?” he asked.
“Well they’re clearly liaising with you, given how you bitched and moaned on Saturday morning about your weekend being ruined. Mine was ruined too, just so you know.” I peered around the side of the dark building then shuffled back into the shadows. “Why is this suddenly bigger than WikiLeaks? What am I missing? This obviously goes far deeper than what it looks like on the surface.”
“I have an idea, but I’m not willing to verbalize until I’m one hundred percent. And I’m definitely not sharing my thoughts over the air, even with app encryption.” He sighed. “Look, I know a few things that might help explain what’s happening, but I can’t tell you unless you come in. I can’t help you like this. The more you run, the worse it looks.”
“Then I guess you won’t be telling me. And maybe not helping me.” I hung up, and used a thumbtack from the corkboard advertising local activities to open the small side panel on my iPhone and eject the SIM. I snapped the tiny plastic card in two and put the halves in my pocket. One of the bricks in the low wall edging the garden looked loose enough to pry free. Once I’d extracted it, I used it and the wall to mortar-and-pestle my phone into a few pieces. I collected all the smashed phone parts, shoved them in my pocket then put the wall back together.
Shit. Hope my auto-cloud backup was working as it should. I’d decommissioned the phone without thinking, and that action confirmed that this whole thing was starting to wear on me. One thing I’d always been was careful. Thoughtful. The events of the past five days had completely thrown my equilibrium out of whack.
I ran up the internal staircase to the hotel room, rehashing everything that’d happened since Hadim’s call. About three feet from our door, I realized the only reason I hadn’t completely cracked up was Sophia. The thing that’d kept me feeling somewhat grounded was her. Her dedication, her kindness, her sweetness, her normalcy.
Relying on someone else was such a dangerous thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Not all heroes wear capes; some wear nerdy T-shirts
The blue phone rang as Sophia and I were discussing what to do about lunch—so far, go out was the option at the top of the list. After my confession last night, she’d been tentative in our interactions, not scared but more…unsure, as if she just didn’t know how to approach me. I empathized. It would be weird being told that a woman you barely know and who you’ve been sleeping with while on an impromptu road trip had killed someone with her bare hands. Bare hands, and a helpful medieval-esque chain.
I’d made a conscious effort to be more engaged with her through the morning, taking frequent—for me—short breaks from poring over the dossiers of all the TERs on my short-shortlist, where I’d been trying to find someone who stood out. But it was like they were all born in Normaltown, USA, and boasted the usual college/military/distinguished service records. Some married, some not. Nothing that said “This guy is in bed with the Russians and he’s somehow connected to someone else you don’t know about yet.” Taking these breaks felt counterproductive—to Halcyon’s agenda, but not to my agenda of having Sophia want to stay with me. Withdrawing into myself now would be disastrous, because I needed her to stick with me, just a little longer. I didn’t think I could make it without her.
After murmuring sorry to Sophia, I answered the call. “Yes?”
Lennon sounded relaxed. “Are you in a position to converse?”
“Give me a minute.” I let my hand fall to my side, phone still clutched tightly in my fist as I walked to the door, now speaking to Sophia. “Sorry, hon. I’ve just got to take this.”
“Sure.” She stood, already moving to lock the door behind me. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I nabbed the car key. “I’ll just be down in the car. Won’t be long.”
She blew me a kiss through the gap in the door before she closed it. I waited, as always, to hear the chain slide into place before I left her. I kept my phone in hand as I walked, not bothering to raise it to my ear again and explain what I was doing. Even if Lennon hadn’t heard me explaining to Sophia, he’d wait silently, as long as necessary until I was somewhere suitable for a conversation.
I jogged down to the car, checked around myself, and when I was satisfied nobody was around, slipped into the back seat and hunched down. “I’m here. Had to get to a quiet place.”
“It’s quite all right. How are you, Alexandra?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I can imagine. And how is Ms. Flores?”
I was zero out of ten shocked that he knew who Sophia was. “She’s fine.”
“Very clever of you to bring her along with you.”
“I thought so.” But it had become so much more than what I’d intended. “She doesn’t know anything she shouldn’t, by the way. In case you were going to ask.”
“I wasn’t going to ask. I know you wouldn’t divulge anything sensitive.”
“The vote of confidence is nice.” I examined my fingernails and noted I needed a manicure. Oh well. Not like they’d care about my nails in jail. “I haven’t seen anyone else since our second day in Tampa. But I’m sure they’re here.”
“They are. You’re doing an excellent job of remaining hidden.”
“Gold star for me. This is really shitty, just FYI, being treated like I’m some sort of criminal by the people I work for, the people I’m trying to protect.”
“I know. But in their eyes, you are a criminal. They don’t know there’s greater meaning behind your service.” He sighed, sounding unusually weary. “You work for a secret branch of the government, Alexandra, one tasked with maintaining the stability and honor of our country, ensuring that our governmental system works in a way that ensures our continued strength. Think of it as a tree. The government and people of this country are the trunk. The branches are all the things needed to keep the trunk solid, like Halcyon. And you’re a leaf. Small, but essential to the health of the tree.”
“Yeah, until I fall off my little stem and die,” I muttered petulantly.
Lennon ignored my analogous response to his analogy. “Just remember that no branch or twig or leaf can know about every other part of the tree.” I caught the meaning—that obviously I didn’t know everything that was going on. His tone turned sober. “I need you to keep trying to unearth the truth. Our investigation isn’t yielding the results we were hoping for. How are you doing, by the way?”
“I’ve got more information than I had the day I started working on this, but nothing I’d put in an official report.”
“What about an unofficial report?”
“Still not yet, but I anticipate soon.” Even with the security of the app’s call encryption, I still didn’t feel comfortable saying it all out loud in what was essentially a public place. I cleared my throat. “What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t find the links you need? I can’t do this forever.”
“If that day comes, I will give you permission to relinquish this duty.”
“And then?”
“And then it’s up to you how you handle yourself. I will let you know when you’re free to act independently.”
“Do you know what’s going to happen to me after this?” I asked quietly.
“Not explicitly, no.”
His sidestep meant he had a pretty good idea but didn’t want to verbalize it. Because we both knew I was probably screwed. “Is there anything you can do to make things a little…softer for me?”
“We have ideas and we can offer a certain amount of protection for you. It simply depends on whether or not we’re able to implement those plans without showing our hand.”
“Right. Guess I’d better get my résumé updated and my prison fight skills sharpened up.”
“If they send you to the prison we know they will, you won’t have to worry about fighting,” he said matter-of-factly.
“That’s so…comforting.”
* * *
The vice president was on television, droning on in the background while I stared at military personnel files, looking for my unicorn. My unicorn seemed even more elusive than real unicorns. Given there was no such thing as a real unicorn, well…you get the idea. I still didn’t know if this line of investigation was even relevant, if I’d just wasted days crawling down the wrong rabbit hole. But it was the only line I had.
My call with Lennon at lunchtime had left me feeling out of sorts and borderline upset, despite the fact I’d always known there would be no movie-happy ending for me. “You are the fat man,” I murmured to myself. “Think of who you might save…”
From my short-shortlist of two hundred and sixty-eight lieutenant colonels, I’d further narrowed it down to twenty-two who had both the requisite last name ending in TER and had been awarded the combat patches-slash-awards I’d seen on the chest of that uniform after further noob photo manipulation. But there was nothing more to distinguish them. Nothing stood out in their dossiers. I just needed something. A beacon, a North Star, just…something to point me at the right guy, because all I had at the moment were twenty-two maybes. I had the American’s accent—Boston area—but was he born and raised there, or did he move there young enough to acquire the accent? What the hell. It was as good a distinguishing point as any. I moved four of the twenty-two, either born or residing in the general Boston area, to another list titled, cleverly enough, “Boston.”
Those four were still indistinguishable from each other. I supposed the next logical step would be to go back to Bink and ask if they could look into each of these men for me and see if any of them had anything tying them to Russia. Calls, flights, emails, shit…even looking at Russian porn. But, fuck, I didn’t have time for that.
“Are you going to eat dinner?” Sophia asked from the couch, Reuben sandwich halfway to her mouth. She’d arranged my sandwich and some sides on a plate, then left it on the table behind the laptops, where I’d promptly not even touched it. “I got you extra pickles,” she said brightly.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Smiling, I assured her, “It looks great.” The roast-veggie-and-pesto sandwich smelled incredible but I really wasn’t hungry. Still, ignoring Sophia in favor of work was a total dick move in a sea of dick moves I’d already made. “Thanks, babe.” I crunched a pickle in half, closed the laptops, then picked up the plate with its teetering stack and went to sit with her on the couch.
The delighted look she gave me as I sat down confirmed being with her was the best thing. “Welcome to the slums,” Sophia said, bumping me with her shoulder. The movement jostled sauerkraut from her sandwich onto her chest.
Delicately, I picked the morsel of food from where it rested on top of the cartoon rendition of R2-D2 from Star Wars across her breasts, and held it out to her.
She looked like she was considering eating it straight from my fingertips but instead, she carefully plucked it from my fingers and ate it. “Yum,” she murmured before returning to her sandwich, her eyes glued to the television mounted on the wall. I brought my legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch, bending my head over my plate and biting into my dinner. It was really good. I leaned back and closed my eyes as I chewed. Sophia interrupted my foodgasm with a grumbled, “God I hate the way he talks.”
“Mmm?” I managed around another too-big mouthful. The moment I’d swallowed the first bite, I’d realized I was actually starving and had started indelicately chowing down. “How’s that?”
She gestured at the screen where the VP was continuing his bullshit rhetoric. Or at least I assumed it was bullshit rhetoric, because that’s all he spouted. “The upper-class accent, with his thuggish bully slipping in all the time. ‘Randy’ Randolf Berenson,” she mocked. “Like, I know he’s rich, but he’s got no class. He’d probably beat you up in an alley if you asked him a question he didn’t like. He’s so fake, so gross, and so mean. So is the president. Argh, I hate them both. So much!”
I used my elbow to point at the screen, while still looking at her. “You know, you could always turn it off. Disconnect yourself from the news cycle for a while?”
“No I can’t,” she whined. “It’s like a sick compulsion. And it fuels my rage.”
I laughed at the whine. “What do you need rage for?”
“For the resistance! One day we’re getting rid of them. Two more years, Lexie. Two more years.”
Still laughing, I glanced at the screen then back to Sophia. “What’s this press conference about?”
“Foreign aid or something. Some trip he took somewhere to shore up the president’s…oh, sorry, our nation’s support overseas. My taxpayer money, wasted on sending these clowns around the world. I hate that. How do you stand working for them?” she asked. Shared political ideals had been one of the things that’d first attracted me to her profile. “I mean, gross.”
