The Hit

Chapter





85





ALMOST ALL AWARDS CEREMONIES CONDUCTED by the CIA were held in secret. That was the nature of the beast. This one was particularly so.

It involved the Special Activities Division of the CIA’s National Clandestine Service. Within that division was the SOG, or Special Operations Group. They were the best of the best, running around the world doing the bidding of the United States either with a gun or by inserting themselves in the riskiest settings for purposes of intelligence gathering. They were the most clandestine special ops force in America, if not the world. Most of the members came from the military elite.

Most, but not all.

The ceremony was held in an underground room at the agency’s installation at Camp Peary in Williamsburg, Virginia. It seemed appropriate that the event was below ground, in the shadows, and unknown to the rest of the world.

In attendance along with about two dozen others were Evan Tucker, APNSA Potter, the three-star, and the DHS director, who had watched the events unfolding in Damascus. And Blue Man.

Robie and Reel were each awarded the Distinguished Intelligence Cross, the highest award given out by the CIA. It was analogous to the Medal of Honor and was usually given posthumously. It was only bestowed for extraordinary heroism in highly dangerous conditions.

Evan Tucker read off the citation listing their achievements not only in Syria but also in Canada. And then Reel and Robie came forward to accept their medals.

As Tucker presented the medal to Reel he hissed, “This is not over yet.”

“Clearly not,” she said.

When Potter gave the medal to Robie he whispered, “You need to choose sides on this, Robie.”

“So do you,” Robie replied. “And choose wisely.”

Robie and Reel walked out of the ceremony together. Outside, they were greeted by Blue Man.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Robie said quietly.

“Just doing my duty.”

“Tucker isn’t taking this too well.”

“Hard to say how much longer he’ll be heading up the agency,” replied Blue Man.

“Days numbered?”

“They might be. He hasn’t been that stellar as a DCI.”

“You might want to consider the job.”

Blue Man shook his head. “No thanks. I’m broken down enough as it is.”

Robie and Reel drove out of Camp Peary and headed north. Neither of them spoke because neither had anything to say. The last couple of weeks had pushed them right to their maximum. They were both physically and mentally exhausted.

When they arrived back in D.C., Robie surprised her by saying, “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

He drove to the building and parked at the curb. About ten minutes later people started coming out of the building carrying large backpacks.

When Robie saw her he got out of the car and waved her over. Julie Getty approached cautiously.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“First you complain when I don’t come by, and now you complain when I do?”

Julie glanced in the car. “Who’s that?”

“Get in and you’ll find out.”

“Jerome is coming to pick me up.”

“No he’s not. I already phoned him and told him I was.”

They climbed in the car and Robie said, “Julie, Jessica; Jessica, Julie.”

The two women nodded at each other and then both looked questioningly at Robie as he steered the car into traffic.

“Where are we going?” asked Reel.

“An early dinner.”

Julie looked at Reel but she merely shrugged.

Robie drove them to a restaurant in Arlington. As they sat down to eat, Julie said to Reel, “How do you know Will?”

“Just a friend.”

“Do you work together?”

“Sometimes.”

“I know what he does,” she said bluntly.

Reel said, “So you know he can be a real pain in the ass, then?”

Julie sat back and a grin spread across her face. “I think I like you.” She looked at Robie. “Where is super agent Vance?”

“Doing super agent things, I imagine,” replied Robie.

Julie turned back to Reel. “So you do what he does?”

Reel bit into a roll. “We both do things a little differently.”

Robie said, “How’s school going?”

“Fine. What have you two been up to?”

“This and that,” said Robie.

“I read the news. I know what’s been going on in the world. Have you two been overseas lately?”

“Not lately, no,” said Reel.

“You lie as well as he does.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. I admire people who can lie well. I do it all the time.”

“I think I like you,” said Reel.

Robie put a hand on her arm. “I screwed up before, Julie. I won’t again.”

“So does this mean you’ll come by sometimes?”

“Yes, it does.”

“With her?”

“That’s up to Jessica.”

Julie looked at her.

“I can do that,” Reel said slowly, glancing uncertainly at Robie.

After dinner, they dropped Julie off at home. She gave them both hugs. Reel awkwardly hugged her back and then watched Julie climb the steps to her house.

As soon as Robie drove off, Reel said, “What the hell was that all about?”

“What? Having a meal with someone?”

“People like us don’t have meals with...normal people.”

“Why not? Is that somewhere in the agency manual?”

“We just took down a terrorist leader, Robie. And barely escaped. We could just as easily be in a hole somewhere in Syria with our heads cut off. You don’t just sit down to a meal with a teenager and shoot the shit after that.”

“I used to think that too.”

“What do you mean, ‘used to’?”

“I mean I used to think that way too. But I don’t anymore.”

“I don’t understand you.”

Robie drove to the next intersection, took a right, braked hard at the curb, and got out. Reel did too. They looked at each other over the roof of the car.

“I can’t keep doing this job and cut off the rest of the world around me, Jessica. It can’t be an either/or. I have to live a life. At least a little bit.”

“That thing back there with the kid? What if someone followed you there? What kind of life might she have then?”

“Our side already knows about Julie. And I take precautions. But I can’t protect everybody every minute of every day. She could step out in front of a bus and be just as dead as if someone had shot her.”

“That is a specious argument at best.”

“Well, it’s my argument. And my life.” He paused. “Are you telling me you didn’t enjoy meeting her?”

“No. She seems like a great kid.”

“She is a great kid. I want to be part of her life.”

“You can’t do that. We can’t be part of anyone’s life. Our friends end up dead because of us.”

“I refuse to accept that.”

“It’s not up to you, is it?” she snapped.

“Then let’s walk away from this shit. Start over.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious.”

She looked at him, saw that this was true. “I don’t think I can walk away, Robie.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is who I am. This is what I do. If I stopped...”

“It seemed you were prepared to stop when all this happened.”

“That was revenge. I never looked past that. If you want the truth, I never thought I would survive it.”

“But you did. We both did.”

They both lapsed into silence.

She rested her arms on the roof of the car. “I didn’t think anything would ever scare me, Robie.” She exhaled a long breath. “But this does.”

“It’s not like a hit where you cross the i’s and dot the t’s. You don’t really think, you just execute. This, this you really have to think about.”

“And one and one don’t necessarily make two.”

“Almost never make two,” he amended.

“So how do you make sense out of it?”

“You can’t.”

Reel looked up. The rain had started falling after several days of dry weather. It was gloomy, depressing; even objects in the near distance were hard to make out.

As the rain picked up, neither of them made a move to get into the car. In about a minute they were soaked, but they just stood there.

“I’m not sure I can live like that, Robie.”

“I’m not sure either. But I think we have to try.”

Reel glanced down at her pocket. She pulled out the Distinguished Intelligence Cross and looked at it.

“Did you ever in a million years think you would get one of these?”

“No.”

“We got this for killing a man.”

“We got this for doing our job.”

She dropped the medal back into her pocket and looked at him. “But this is not a job you walk away from.”

“There aren’t many who have.”

“I’d rather leave it all in the field.”

“From the look of the world right now, you might get your wish.”

She looked away. “When Gwen and Joe were alive I knew I had at least two people who would mourn me. Who were my friends. That was important to me.”

“Well, now you have me.”

She stared back at him. “Do I? Really?”

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“What?”

“Close your damn eyes.”

“Robie!”

“Just do it.”

She closed her eyes as the rain continued to fall.

A minute passed.

She finally reopened them.

Will Robie was still there.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


To Michelle, for taking care of everything else in the way only you can.

To Mitch Hoffman, for always seeing the trees and the forest.

To David Young, Jamie Raab, Sonya Cheuse, Lindsey Rose, Emi Battaglia, Tom Maciag, Maja Thomas, Martha Otis, Karen Torres, Anthony Goff, Bob Castillo, Michele McGonigle, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, who support me every day.

To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs Baker, Lisa Erbach Vance, Nicole James, Frances Jalet-Miller, and John Richmond, for always having my back.

To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Maria Rejt, Trisha Jackson, Katie James, Natasha Harding, Aimee Roche, Lee Dibble, Sophie Portas, Stuart Dwyer, Stacey Hamilton, James Long, Anna Bond, Sarah Willcox, and Geoff Duffield at Pan Macmillan, for leading me to number one in the UK.

To Arabella Stein, Sandy Violette, and Caspian Dennis, for being so good at what you do.

To Ron McLarty and Orlagh Cassidy, for continuing to astonish me with your audio performances.

To Steven Maat at Bruna, for keeping me at the top in Holland.

To Bob Schule, for always being there for me.

To Janet DiCarlo, James Gelder, Michael Gioffre, and Karin Meenan, I hope that you enjoyed your characters.

To Kristen, Natasha, and Lynette, for keeping me straight, true, and sane.

And to Roland Ottewell for another great copyediting job.