“Harrison’s arrived.”
Deputy Director for Operations PJ Rolow delivered the news as he took his seat beside Deputy Director Monroe Bryant at the conference table in Christine’s office. “He’ll be here shortly, once he’s through security.”
“What’s the plan?” Christine asked.
“Harrison is well trained from a technical standpoint,” Rolow replied, “but he’ll need to get up to speed on CIA protocols, so someone will hold his hand for a while. When he’s working stateside, he’ll be teamed with Patricia Kendall from our National Resources Division, which handles issues we don’t want to hand off to the FBI or other domestic agencies, or want to pursue in tandem. To chase leads on domestic soil, Harrison will need to interface with the various intelligence and law enforcement agencies, and there’s no one with better contacts and relationships than Kendall.
“While overseas, Harrison will be teamed with an appropriate officer. This just in—Mixell was spotted at the airport in Karachi, Pakistan—so that’ll be Harrison’s first destination once he’s through indoc. While in the Middle East or any of the stan countries, he’ll be teamed with Khalila Dufour.”
Rolow had referred to the group of seven countries in Central and South Asia ending in stan: Pakistan, Afghanistan, and the five former Soviet republics, such as Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan.
Their conversation was interrupted by the intercom on Christine’s desk; her secretary’s voice emanated from the speaker. “Director O’Connor, Jake Harrison is here.”
“Send him in.”
The door opened and Harrison entered, appearing not much different from the last time Christine had seen him, wearing jeans and a polo shirt. After introducing Harrison to the deputy director and DDO, she motioned him into the empty seat at the table. After a bit of small talk, Rolow got down to business.
“You’ll be assigned to the special operations group within the special activities center, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. For the Mixell issue, you’ll be teamed with two officers, one who will help you interface with the domestic agencies, and one who will assist while overseas. You’ll meet them shortly; they’re on the way up.”
Christine’s intercom buzzed again, and her secretary informed them that Officer Kendall had arrived. The door opened and an attractive redhead entered. Harrison rose from his chair as the woman stepped into Christine’s office.
“There’s no need for chivalry,” Rolow said, “especially in Pat’s presence.”
Kendall gave Rolow an icy stare as she approached, then turned to Harrison and thrust her hand out, adding a smile. “I’m Pat Kendall.”
Rolow explained the plan to Kendall, who seemed to have already been briefed on her role regarding Harrison. When Rolow mentioned he’d also be teamed with Khalila Dufour, Kendall’s demeanor turned cold.
“You can’t be serious,” she said. “I realize she’s your pet, but you should keep her on her leash.”
“Zip it, Kendall,” Rolow said. “Play nice or you’ll be riding a desk for a while.”
Pat was about to say something else, but clamped her mouth shut.
The intercom activated again; Khalila Dufour had arrived. A moment later, a woman of Middle Eastern descent entered. Although Kendall was attractive, Christine had to admit that Khalila was stunning. She was six feet tall, only two inches shorter than Harrison, with straight black hair falling across her shoulders, wearing a short skirt emphasizing her long, lean legs.
Pat shot Khalila a wicked look, then fixed her gaze on the DDO as her hands clenched into fists. Khalila, on the other hand, ignored Pat as she approached, stopping beside her without even a glance in her direction, her eyes surveying Harrison instead. She made no effort to introduce herself, standing with her arms folded across her chest, projecting a why-am-I-here attitude.
“Okay, Harrison,” Rolow said, “this is how it goes. Pat will accompany you stateside and herd you through indoc. Whenever our leads take you to the Middle East or any of the stan countries, you’ll go with Khalila. Her contacts in the region and linguistic skills are the best the agency has to offer. Any questions?”
Harrison shook his head. “No, sir.”
Rolow motioned for Pat and Khalila to exit Christine’s office, then stood and shook Harrison’s hand. “Good luck.”
Harrison joined the two women as they left the office. After the door closed, Christine turned to Rolow. “There’s obviously bad blood between those two. What’s the deal?”
Harrison walked down the seventh-floor hallway bracketed by the two women, with neither one speaking until they reached the elevator. While they waited for the doors to open, Pat turned to Harrison.
“Be careful while working with Khalila. Her partners have a habit of ending up dead.”
“Only the incompetent ones,” Khalila replied. “It’s not my fault your boy toy of the month got himself killed.”
The elevator doors opened and after they stepped inside, Pat replied, “John wasn’t my boy toy. We were in a committed relationship.”
“He had a strange way of showing it,” Khalila said. “He couldn’t keep his hands off me; said I was way better in bed than you.”
“I doubt that,” Pat replied, “you clitless camel-jacker.”
Khalila swiveled toward Pat, her body tensed for action.
Harrison stepped between the two women. “I understand I’ll be working with you separately. Which sounds like an excellent plan.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Khalila said. “It’s Kendall you need to watch out for. I can smell when someone’s corrupt, and she’s as dirty as they come.”
“That’s yourself you’re smelling,” Pat replied.
The elevator doors opened to the fifth floor.
Khalila asked Pat, “How long are you going to have to babysit him?”
“The rest of today and tomorrow,” Pat replied coldly.
Khalila turned to Harrison. “We leave for Pakistan tomorrow night.” Then she headed down the corridor.
When the elevator doors closed, Pat smacked the symbol for the second floor. “That bitch! She knows how to press my buttons.” She fumed for a while as the elevator descended, then turned to Harrison.
“I was serious about watching your back around Khalila. The word is she’s very good, but she usually leaves a trail of carnage. Her partners end up dead more often than not. I don’t know what the deal is with her, but I’ve gleaned enough to know that the DDO doesn’t completely trust her. He lets her off her leash only on important missions where the risk is worth the gain, and apparently, tracking down Mixell falls into that category.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harrison said, pondering the unusual situation he was in. As a Navy SEAL, he had trusted his team members without question.
As the elevator doors opened, Harrison asked, “What’s the plan for today?”
“I’ll take you to outfitting, where you’ll get issued weapons and tactical gear, and get you a locker to store everything. Then we’ll head to the analysis center, where we’ll review what they’ve come up with regarding Mixell. I understand you were good friends with him. Go through his file. Tell us what we’ve missed.”
Harrison nodded.
As they walked down the hallway, a woman carrying a stack of files approached, flashing Harrison a smile as she passed by. The look wasn’t missed by Pat. “I bet you get that a lot.”
Harrison wasn’t sure how to respond; he hadn’t yet figured Pat out. She was friendly, at least toward him, yet he sensed a hard-nosed and flip-switch personality; someone you didn’t want to get across the breakers with.
He decided to offer a quid pro quo. “I bet you get a lot of looks yourself.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Nowadays, most guys would have tap-danced around my comment, afraid of being hauled into HR for offering a simple compliment. I just might end up liking you, Jake. If you stay alive long enough, that is.”