Defenseless Read Free Page A

info? No. But not for lack of trying. I spent over a year in that camp trying to gain access to the files I needed. I had to keep an injured American’s location quiet because the mission comes first. I knew he had a wife and child who thought he was dead. My job was bigger than either him or me, though, so I did the best I could to keep him from dying, and then got us both the hell out of there. I sacrificed a lot and was so deep undercover that I started to miss check-ins, code words, and went somewhat off the rails. But I embodied Fahima Salib. I was her in every way, all to get what I needed—answers.
    Some of the other members of the terrorist ring were becoming suspicious. I started to notice hushed voices when I came around. It became more difficult for me to move among the groups, and I wasn’t sure anymore how close I could get. I figured they were meeting in other locations to discuss strategy; the safe house where they held Aaron was no longer their meet up.
    “I gathered a lot more information than your other op did. Let’s remember that I also managed to find an American hostage who was presumed dead, collected files no one else could, and managed to gain more intel in the last year than anyone else who has boots on ground there.” My frustration grows, mostly at myself. Thomas would have a better chance of cutting my tongue out before I admit that, though.
    “Your father would be—”
    “Don’t even say it, Tom. You don’t get to talk about him.”
    “I want you to take a few weeks off.”
    My jaw would drop if I weren’t trained so well. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say weeks .”
    He stands, pushing the papers on the desk so they align. “I did.”
    I leap out of my chair. “I can’t. You can’t be serious. I’m one of the best you have. You can’t let Al Mazir get weeks ahead of me.”
    “You’re off his case. You need to take some time to get your head on straight. The operation went on too long. I should have taken you off when you got back with the hostage you found.” Tom strides out of the office, leaving me stunned.
    He’s been my supervisor for five years, and I’ve never once been removed from a case. I know everything there is to know about Mazir. No one in this office could pick up where I left off. I have deep-seated contacts. This is a mistake. It has to be.
    I rush after him but stop short.
    “Hey, Charlie.” Vanessa stands before me, twisting her hands. I wish people would use the training we went through. I read her body language and the little nuances tell me she’s nervous.
    “What can I do for you?” I look past her to see if Tom is at his desk. If he refuses to listen, I’ll go above his head.
    She places her hand on my arm to bring my attention back to her. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about your dad. I know it’s been a while, but we haven’t had a chance to talk since it all happened.”
    “Thanks.”
    I don’t do small talk or fake empathy. My father was the most brilliant mind that ever worked for the CIA. He was an asset to this country, a patriot through and through. He gave his time, love, and devotion to this agency. Then he was brutally murdered and left for dead at the hands of Al Mazir. There’s no one in the entire world who wants Mazir more than I do.
    “I know you still have a few more things to do with the debrief, but I’d like to go over the case file and really pick your brain.”
    “Why?”
    “Oh.” She shifts again. “Didn’t Tom tell you? I’m the new op on the case.”
    I close my eyes and count to five to calm myself.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Would he?
He did. Motherfucker . . . he did.
I need a vacation.
    I look back at Vanessa, who now appears as if she’s gloating. “I can’t talk now. I need to just think, okay?”
    She nods. “Sure thing.” Her smile grows before she walks off in the other direction.
    Tom isn’t at his desk, my co-workers refuse to make eye contact, and my mind won’t