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Later that afternoon Thorne was getting ready to go home. A light knock came on his office door. He opened it to see Jenna standing there.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey, yourself."
"You done for the day?"
"Yup."
"Good. Then you can buy me a drink."
"Best thing I've heard today," Thorne said. "Any preferences on where?"
"Someplace where they have bottles with alcohol in them."
"Oh. It's like that?"
"I spent the last hour listening to Carlson complain about you."
"I know the perfect place," Thorne said.
Soon they were sitting in a booth in a McLean watering hole. Across the room, the bar was noisy. The booth was private. A waitress brought their drinks. Grey Goose martini for Jenna, Jameson up with a soda back for Thorne.
Jenna looked at him over her martini with something smoldering in her eyes. Sudden heat flooded his groin.
"Carlson wants your scalp," Jenna said.
"What else is new?"
"You never told me why he dislikes you so much."
"It's a long story."
"I've got time."
"It goes back to my first posting, in Bucharest. Carlson was Chief of Station. He was starting his climb up the ladder."
Jenna fished the olive out of her martini and ate it.
"So, what happened?"
"I was the new kid on the block. Carlson used me as a glorified errand boy. It wasn't what I'd expected life would be like as a hotshot CIA officer, but I figured it was all part of the learning curve. Anyway, I was approached by a man who'd been a captain in Ceaușescu's secret police."
"The Securitate?"
"Right. His name was Bogdan. Alexandru Bogdan. Those guys were the worst of the worst. They made the KGB look like kindergarten teachers. By the time I met him, he was old and sick. Somewhere along the way his conscience had started to bother him. He still had a lot of connections. He knew I was CIA. He also knew about the rendition site we have outside the city. What he wanted me to do was blow the whistle."
"He wanted you to find a way to reveal the existence of the site? Publicly?"
"Right. Bogdan knew I was only a peon. He said he wanted to talk to someone who had authority. Someone who had the details needed to convince the press it wasn't a phony story."
"Why did he want it exposed?"
"He claimed that if he could get the site shut down, it would help make up for all those years he'd spent torturing people. At least that was his story. He was very convincing."
"What did he offer in return? He couldn't have expected you to just do what he wanted."
"He offered gold. Not money, intelligence. Details on current Russian operations against the West. Active communication protocols and codes. The location of a nuclear weapons stash left behind by the Soviet Union. A list of Russian agents working in Eastern Europe. Like I said, gold."
"Did you believe him?"
"No. What he was offering was too good to be true. Plus he was asking me to become a traitor."
"What did you do?"
"I did what I was supposed to do. I went to my boss and told him about the approach."
"Carlson."
Thorne nodded.
"And?"
"And, Lewis got all excited. He figured we could pretend to agree to what Bogdan wanted and get the information."
"As if that would work. Wasn't he suspicious of this sudden bonanza?"
"When I told him I thought it was a play by the opposition, he blew it off. 'I was too inexperienced,' he said."
"Asshole," Jenna said.
"He saw it as a step toward a better posting. If he could bring home what Bogdan was offering, he'd be the golden boy."
"Then what happened?"
"He told me to set up a meet with Bogdan. Then he would pretend to make the deal. Of course, since he was so much more experienced than I was, nothing could possibly go wrong."
"But it did?"
"What do you think? I set up the meet. Carlson isn't dumb, whatever else he is. Bucharest isn't Moscow, but Chief of Station there is an important post. If you're in Carlson's position, you don't agree to go alone to a café in the bad part of the city because that's what the asset wants. He had me come with him as backup."
"How come you never told me this story until now?"
Thorne shrugged.
"No particular reason. You never asked."
Jenna smiled.
"I suppose we had other things in mind when we got together. So he went to the meet and you covered him."
"The meet was at a café in Ferentari. Have you ever been to Bucharest?"
"No."
"Back then, Ferentari was one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the world. It probably still is. Drugs, gangs, murder, you name it. There was no law in Ferentari. You were on your own. A foreigner would have to be crazy to go there. The fact that Bogdan would only meet there should have clued Lewis in."
Thorne sipped his whiskey.
"So, we go the café. It's after dark, there's one streetlight still working about a half block away. The street is empty except for a bunch of punks hanging out on a stoop down the block, smoking a joint. The café is a hole in the wall, next to an alley. The alley is pitch black. I'm paranoid as hell."
"You were armed?"
"Oh, yeah. Carlson, too. We park across the street. I can see Bogdan sitting at the rear of the café under the fluorescent lights. I'd told Carlson what he looked like, but it wasn't hard to identify him. He was the only one in there except the guy behind the counter."
"Then what?"
"We get out of the car. Carlson tells me to wait. I take out my gun and hold it down at my side in case it's a set up. I can't shake the feeling something's wrong. Lewis starts to cross the street when a car comes out of the alley and screeches to a stop. Two guys pile out and make a grab for him."
"Oh, oh."
"Oh, oh, is right. Lewis takes down one of them with a fancy judo move. I'm trying to get a clear shot without hitting him. Bogdan comes out of the café with a gun in his hand. I shoot him, he goes down. By this time Lewis has his gun out and he shoots the guy he threw onto the ground. The second guy gets one off, hits Lewis in the leg, and knocks him down sprawling on the street."
"So that's why he limps sometimes. I always wondered about that."
"It's about to be lights out for Lewis and I shoot the guy that put one in his leg, twice for good measure. The driver gets out of the car and fires at me. I shoot him, he falls down behind the car. All the time the punks on the stoop are watching the whole show, like it's for their entertainment. I run over to Lewis. Bogdan is up on his knees in the doorway of the café and he brings up his gun. I shoot him again and he's done. I hoist Lewis up, get him back in our car, and get the hell out of there."
"Jesus, Mike. That's a hell of a story."
"All the way back to the station, Lewis is yelling about how he's bleeding to death. When we get back I throw a field dressing on the wound. It took a chunk out of his calf, but the bullet missed the bone and arteries. He was lucky."
"So how come he doesn't like you? He ought to be grateful."
"He covered the whole thing up. He'd been suckered into a scam to get him someplace where they could grab him. If word of it got out, it would be his career in the toilet. He said if I told anyone he'd destroy my career. After all, who were they going to believe? Me, or someone who'd been in the Agency for years? "
"Knowing Carlson, he offered you a deal," Jenna said.
"I got a glowing fitness report from him. It included a recommendation for specialized training based on my 'exemplary skills demonstrated in the field,' I think it said."
"The SSO program."
"Yep. Ever since then, I've had to watch my back with him."
"He's unhappy with you right now because of what happened in Syria," Jenna said. "Kramer doesn't like messy ops where people get killed. You need to watch your step. He's going to find some way to screw you if he can."
"He's tried it before."
"Yes, but this is different. Kramer ripped him a new one. You know what she's like. He blames you."
"Figures. Like it's my fault a mole is screwing up his career track."
He drank the rest of his whiskey.
"Kramer is bad news when she's pissed off."
"That might qualify for the understatement of the year."
Jenna lifted her glass and drained it.
"Want another?" Thorne asked.
"You have anything to drink at home?"
"I still have most of a bottle of vodka in the freezer from the last time you were there."
"Vodka keeps. How about food?"
"There's a steak in the fridge. I could throw it on the grill."
"Perfect. Let's get out of here."
"Jen..."
She stood and looked at him. "What?"
"Nothing."
He dropped a twenty on the table.
"I'll follow you," she said.
They left the bar. Thorne got into his Jeep and pulled out of the lot. It was getting dark by the time they got to the house. Jenna pulled up in the driveway as he parked in the garage.
He got the vodka out of the freezer and took glasses from one of the cabinets.
"I haven't got any vermouth."
"None needed," Jenna said. "Straight up will be fine."
He poured two glasses and handed one to her.
"Here's to it."
They clinked and drank. The chilled vodka went down like fire and ice. Jenna let out a long breath.
"That's exactly what I needed."
She poured another and sat down at the kitchen table.
Thorne pulled the steak out of the refrigerator and set it on a plate. Jenna watched as he poured Worcestershire sauce over both sides of the cut, letting it pool.
From a rack on the counter he took garlic powder, black pepper, Himalayan salt, and Italian seasoning. He sprinkled each of the ingredients on one side of the steak, rubbed it in with his fingers, flipped the steak over and repeated what he'd done. Then he covered it with plastic wrap and set it on the counter.
He washed his hands in the sink.
Jenna said, "Can I do something?"
"Nah, relax. I've got everything under control."
"Are you sure about that?"
She smiled at him.
"Would Madam like a salad with her steak?"
Jenna stood and came over to him. She reached up and draped her arms around his neck.
"Madam would like an appetizer before dinner."
She kissed him, reached down, cupped him.
"My," she said. "That was fast."
"I've missed you, Jen. Us."
"Come on."
She took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
It had been a long time since Thorne could have casual sex and not think anything more about it. Jenna had never been in the casual category. Part of him wanted to deny it, but what he felt for her at the moment was more than simple lust. He wasn't sure he was ready for it.
As they undressed she touched the bandage on his side.
"Does it hurt?"
"Nothing to worry about."
She looked at a row of deep scratches on his leg.
"What happened to your leg?"
"That's from a guard dog who tried to eat me. It wasn't his fault."
"Kiss me," she said.
Some things the body never forgets. There was none of the awkwardness between them common to new lovers. She was ready for him when he entered her. They moved together for what seemed like a long time, eyes locked. When they came together, it shook him to the core.
After a minute he kissed her, brushed damp hair away from her face.
"Whoa," he said.
"Whoa, yourself."
"This was probably a bad idea."
"Probably."
"It's going to complicate everything."
"Maybe. It doesn't have to."
"I want this," she said.
"So do I."
"If Carlson finds out he'll use it against us."
"Then we'll make sure he doesn't," Thorne said.
"Now I'm hungry," she said.
"That steak should be ready for the grill by now."
He got out of bed, pulled on his shorts and walked barefoot into the kitchen. He went out onto the patio and lit the grill. When he came back in, Jenna was pulling salad ingredients out of the refrigerator.
"This lettuce is looking a little sad," she said.
"I haven't been to the store since before Syria."
"That explains it."
She peeled away leaves until she found some that felt almost crisp.
Later, after they'd eaten, they sat outside with fresh drinks.
Jenna sighed.
"That was a serious sigh," Thorne said. "What are you thinking about?"
"I was wondering what it would be like to have a normal life," she said.
"Normal?"
"You know what I mean. Less stress. More time to relax. Take a vacation. Stuff like that."
"You think it's possible? That kind of life?"
"Not for me. Not for you, either. Even if I was lying on a beach somewhere, I'd be worried about the things going on that most people don't know about."
"Like advanced Russian missiles in Syria."
"Like that."
"Somebody's got to do what we do."
"You think it makes any difference?"
"I don't know. I try not to think about it."
"I used to think it does," Jenna said. "Now I'm not so sure."
Thorne looked over at her.
"You want to stay over?"
"Don't ask dumb questions," she said.