78

CIA HEADQUARTERS

Martha Dell had worked through the night.

She had finished calling all the spy chiefs in the Middle East. Now she was working her way through the NATO allies.

One by one, she assured them that Carlos Hernandez was firmly in control of the U.S. government. She also made it clear that the Libyan compound had, in fact, been the Kairos HQ, answered any questions they had, and informed them that Marcus had been vindicated, exonerated, and promoted.

This cleared the way for Marcus to begin working the phones himself. What’s more, his team had arrived, and Marcus welcomed them in his new conference room.

“Guys, I want to thank each of you for believing in me—and Jenny—when almost everyone else cut us loose,” he began. “I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me. To both of us. And I know how defeated and exhausted you feel right now, because I’m feeling the same way. It seems like no matter how hard we work, Abu Nakba is always three steps ahead of us. We weren’t wrong about the Libyan compound. But nor did we get him. We didn’t bomb a special-needs school. But we were condemned for doing so. We haven’t lied to the nation or the world about how dangerous Kairos is. We haven’t exaggerated the threat. But we’ve been treated like pariahs. And I know how much it saps your strength and makes it seem like what we’re doing doesn’t matter and isn’t appreciated. But that kind of thinking is not only wrong, it’s poison. Don’t go there. Stay focused.”

Marcus paused for a moment and scanned the room. He could see his message hitting home, even in the younger support staff who were new to his unit and only knew him by reputation, for good or ill.

“I’m sickened that we couldn’t find and weren’t able to rescue these girls in time,” he continued. “And candidly I’m sickened by how the previous director ran this organization. But he’s gone. It’s a new day. I have the utmost admiration for Dr. Dell and the highest confidence that things are going to be different on her watch. She’s cut from a very different bolt of cloth, and I know she’s going to impress you, as she has me. What’s more, I think you’re going to come to love our new deputy director, Annie Stewart, as much as I do.”

There was a slight murmur in the room.

“Okay, maybe not as much as me, but that’s a different story,” he said with a smile, lightening the mood slightly. “Listen, she’s a consummate professional. Worked on Senator Dayton’s staff for the past fifteen years. Worked on the Senate Intel Committee for more than a decade. She’s played an indispensable role in numerous operations that I’ve been involved with in recent years. So I’m asking you to give her and Dr. Dell everything you’ve got. Understood?”

Everyone did.

“Good. Now, one more thing,” Marcus added, turning to Jenny. “I want to say a very special thank-you to my friend and colleague Agent Morris. We have quite a history together. We don’t always see eye to eye. And I appreciate that about her. I also appreciate her professionalism. I trust her judgment. And I’m deeply grateful for her loyalty. No one on this team has impressed me more, and there’s no one I’d rather have as my deputy to hunt down Abu Nakba and the Troika than her. Except, of course, Pete, who is abandoning us in our darkest hour. But again, that’s probably a different speech for a different time.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the room as Pete shook his head in mock surrender but for whatever reason chose not to shoot back. Marcus assigned Jenny the large office directly next to his. He assigned the other three smaller offices to Geoff Stone, Donny Callaghan, and Noah Daniels, though for the moment Noah was still at Andrews and wasn’t expected back anytime soon. Since Pete was only with them for a few more weeks, Marcus asked him to work out of one of the cubicles with the rest of the support staff, whom he now met and greeted for the first time.

There wasn’t much more to say. They all knew what they had to do, and Marcus urged them to settle in and get back at it. They had terrorists to track and target, and the clock was ticking.

“Do you have a minute?” Pete asked when the meeting was adjourned.

“Of course,” Marcus said, heading to his office. “But you know I’m just kidding you. Mostly.”

“Yeah, but that’s what I want to talk to you about,” Pete said as he followed Marcus into the spacious corner office and closed the door behind them.

“What’s up?”

“That video,” Pete replied. “I’ve never . . .”

Pete couldn’t finish his sentence. He suddenly became more emotional than Marcus ever remembered.

“Look,” Pete said finally, gathering himself. “Would you be open to me staying on, you know, at least until we’ve got Abu Nakba’s head on a platter?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Pete assured him. “I’d never be able to live with myself if I walked away now.”

“And you’re not just saying this because I assigned you a cubicle?” Marcus said with a slight smile.

“Maybe a little.”

“Welcome back,” Marcus said, giving his old friend a bear hug.

“It’s good to be back.”

“Take the office I just gave Noah. I’ll sort him out later.”

“Sounds good.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. It was Geoff Stone.

“You guys should see this,” he said when Pete opened the door.

They stepped back into the conference room, where everyone was watching a breaking news bulletin from the BBC. The Vatican had just confirmed that the papal visit to the United States was still on.

Marcus tensed. He said nothing to the others but caught Jenny’s eye and knew she felt the same way.

The timing could not be worse. This was an invitation to disaster.