or not.
They could go anywhere. Ryan had a great deal of money, mostly inherited from his grandfather
on his mother’s side. He tried not to flaunt it… There was the car and the fancy hotels, but the
house on Cape Elizabeth, while comfortable, was nothing overly extravagant for the area, and
retirement was still nothing more than a distant possibility. The engagement ring had been his
biggest purchase by far of the past year.
At the same time, he wasn’t cheap, and there were so many places they could go…
He got out of the car and walked toward their room. Maybe, for a while at least, it would be
good to get away. He wondered what she would think of a ceremony at sunset on a beach on the
Mediterranean, and a smile touched his face at the thought of her reaction. Suddenly, he couldn’t
wait to ask her.
Unlocking the door, he was greeted only by silence when he pushed into the room. “Katie?” No
answer.
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Looking around, his eyes moved to the bed. Her luggage was sitting on the bedspread, her
clothes spilling out of it. Just then she emerged from the bathroom and, seeing him, stopped
dead in her tracks. The look on her face said it all.
It’s your fault, Ryan, a little voice inside told him. You’ve been ignoring her for weeks. You
should have expected this.
Still, he had to ask it. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”
There was a long silence as she summoned up her resolve. When she did, her words hit him like
a slap in the face: “I’m leaving, Ryan. I’m going back to Maine.”
He had seen it coming, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Why?” She didn’t
answer, instead moving forward to cram the rest of her clothes in the bag. “Katie, please, just…
Will you stop for a second?”
Her movements slowed until she stopped completely and looked up at him. Even from across
the room, he could see that she was trying hard not to cry.
“Why are you leaving?”
“‘Why?’” She was incredulous, staring at him with a strange combination of anger,
disappointment, and hurt on her face. “Are you seriously asking me that? Ryan, I’ve hardly seen
you in the past few days, and all I can think about is what you’re doing and whether you’re okay
or not. Do you have any idea how hard that is? Do you even remember why I came down here in
the first place?”
“Yes, I do know. I told you—”
“You’re such a liar,” she interrupted bitterly. The look in her eyes reflected the pain she was
feeling. “You don’t understand at all. If you did, even a little bit, you wouldn’t be putting me
through this. You would know how much it hurts.”
He was beginning to realize how serious this actually was. “Katie, I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I
didn’t know, I swear…”
She was still staring at him. The disappointment had given way to a gaze of distrust, which was
somehow far worse. “I love you, Ryan,” she finally said. “I do. But I can’t be here while this is
going on, I just can’t. Being here, so close but not knowing what’s happening, wondering if
someone’s going to knock on the door in the middle of the night and tell me that you—” She
broke off abruptly, unable or unwilling to verbalize the thought. “It’s just too much for me.”
A horn sounded outside. Katie swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and picked up
her bag. “That’s for me,” she whispered. “I called a taxi. My ticket is waiting at the airport.”
Ryan didn’t know what to do. For all the anguish he was feeling, the worst part was seeing her in
pain. He thought about reaching out for her, trying to hold her back, but sensed that that would
only make things worse. He was fighting for words. How often does everything come down to a
few sentences? What could he offer that might limit the distance between them? Say something.
“Katie?” She turned at the door but refused to lift her gaze. “I hope you understand that what I
said before, about needing you… I meant that, you know? I can’t think of anything else, or say
anything else that would be more true.”
She let go of what might have been a choked sob, but she still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Don’t
call me, Ryan.”
“What?” The panic started to rise inside. He took a step toward her. “Katie, listen—”
“No!” She held up a wavering hand to stop him. “Just… don’t, okay? Not for a while. I need
some time.”
“Katie!” She was gone, the door closing softly behind her.
He stared after her in disbelief, wanting to follow but unable to move, trying desperately to
figure out what the hell had just happened. Looking around, he was vaguely aware of sterile
prints and stock furniture. This would be life without her, he knew. Flat surroundings and still
air.
He couldn’t go back to that, not after what she had given him. He needed time, time to think
about it, time to figure out how to get her back, but something was piercing his thoughts. He
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looked around, dazed, still trying to get his mind around the disaster that had just transpired.
His cell phone was sitting on the dresser where he had tossed it earlier. After staring at it for a
good twenty seconds, he finally realized that it was ringing.
Ryan was running back out to the car less than thirty seconds later. The tires on his BMW left a
6-foot strip of rubber behind as he peeled out into the night, back toward the city lights, back
toward Washington. He had taken his jacket and his phone. For the moment, decisions about
Katie would just have to wait.
CHAPTER 27
WASHINGTON, D.C.
When Naomi woke, her return to the world was a gradual process. First she had a sense of
shadows spread across the ceiling, separated only by fine threads of yellow light. As she gained a
sense of her surroundings — a hospital? — the light seemed to bleed into the dark patches, so
that she soon became aware of the faces staring down at her. She read them carefully as her
vision cleared. When she saw concern and not dread in their eyes, she felt relief wash through her
body.
Ryan took her hand as Harper went to look for a nurse. “Naomi, can you hear me?”
She tried to speak, but her throat was dry and she wasn’t altogether there yet. “Mmmm.”
“You’re going to be fine,” he assured her. “You took two rounds, but the vest caught both of
them. I wouldn’t move around for a little while, though. It’s going to hurt.”
Sure enough, she felt a crushing pain in her chest when she tried to sit up. Ryan eased her head
back onto the pillow and smoothed her hair. “Jesus, I just told you not to move,” he said in
quiet exasperation. “I don’t believe you sometimes. If I told you not to run into traffic, you’d
probably do it just to spite me.”
She smiled weakly. “How long have I been out?”
“About three hours. How do you feel?”
She tested her limbs and winced. “Sore. Can I have some water?”
As Ryan went to fill a cup from the sink, she said, “When can I go home?”
“We’re waiting to see,” he replied gently. He handed her the cup. “Try to get some rest.” He
squeezed her hand as she drank. Harper reentered the room, followed soon thereafter by a
harried-looking nurse. The young woman proceeded to check Naomi’s vital signs as Ryan pulled
the deputy director toward the door.
Once they were in the hall, he leveled Harper with angry eyes. “What the fuck was she doing on
that raid, John?”
“She’s a grown woman,” Harper responded quietly. “She wanted the chance and I gave it to her.
Besides, you’re in no position to question me, Ryan, not after the shit you pulled with Elgin.”
The younger man looked away and tried to calm himself. Anger wouldn’t help him here, and he
knew it. “What was in the apartment?” he finally asked.
“Not much, but it’s early yet. We’re still trying to ID the occupants. The landlord had names, of
course, but they were meaningless. It would have been nice to take one of them alive. The
Bureau found a cell phone, still intact but cloned. We probably won’t get anything useful out of
that. The outgoing calls were deleted. There was a laptop, too, but someone put a half dozen
rounds into it when the shooting began.” Harper leaned back against the wall and rubbed his
eyes. “It wasn’t a good trade, Ryan. HRT lost four operators with another one on the way out.
The SAC got clipped as well. We didn’t get shit in return. The Bureau’s in an uproar; that’s two
of their top guys on the East Coast dead inside of a month. The only positive thing is that we’ve
been able to throw the press off track. They’re carrying it as a high-risk arrest warrant that went
bad.”
“There was no kind of documentation anywhere in the apartment? I find that hard to believe.”
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“Well, believe it,” Harper said. “They knew what they were doing.” A thoughtful expression
came over his face. “I’m interested in the woman. You know how the Iranian hard-liners feel
about women in general. They would only use one if it was absolutely necessary. Whatever she
was doing for them must have been special. The landlord said these two landed on her doorstep
about six months ago, so we’ll have people checking immigration records from early in the year.
If they were meant to be long-term sleepers, they would have burrowed right in. It would have
been Tehran to Western Europe, to break up the trail, then on to Washington. There’s a good
chance we’ll pick them out sooner or later.”
Ryan looked up. “What makes you so sure they were Iranian?”
“Naomi said she heard them calling out to each other in Farsi when the shooting started.”
“That only narrows it down, John. Farsi is spoken in Afghanistan, Iraq, Bahrain… They could
have been from just about anywhere in the Middle East.”
The DDO frowned impatiently. “Given recent developments, Ryan, I think it’s safe to say they
weren’t Iraqis. This lead originated with Shakib, remember?”
“Yeah…” Kealey sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Harper was looking at him curiously. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” He realized he had snapped out the answer. “What now?”
Harper was still staring at him. “They’ll be discharging Naomi in an hour or two,” he finally said.
“The Bureau’s supposed to be faxing the apartment inventory over to Langley, so I want to get
back and take a look. Can you wait for her?”
“Yeah, I’ll wait.” Ryan rubbed his face wearily. He was tired, and he didn’t want to sit around
for an hour or two and brood about Katie, but he couldn’t leave Naomi alone in the hospital.
“Not a problem. I have some things to think about anyway.”
Harper nodded and clapped a hand lightly on Kealey’s shoulder. As he began to walk away,
Ryan hesitated, then called out to him.
Jonathan turned. “Yeah?”
“About the woman who shot Naomi…”
Harper shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t Naomi who got her. Naomi managed to get off a few
rounds but missed. It was one of the Bureau guys.”
“Okay… thanks.”
“You bet.”
As Harper was walking away again Ryan felt something lift from his shoulders. It was the last
thing Naomi needed right now, to live with that burden. He was glad she wouldn’t have to.
He went back in to wait for her.
CHAPTER 28
HANOVER COUNTY ? LANGLEY ? WASHINGTON, D.C.
The storm system had finally dissipated over central Virginia, leaving behind damp earth and
tree limbs made heavy by weeks of rain. A steady wind blew in from the southwest, pushing
scattered clouds across the early-morning sun and beads of water against the weathered timbers
of the barn.
Vanderveen was in the dark shadows of the house, visible only when the clouds left the sun
behind and let hazy light stream in through the open windows of the kitchen. He was looking in
the refrigerator for something to drink and thinking about his plans for the day.
He finally settled on a small bottle of Tropicana orange juice. He was extremely tired, having
slept little the night before. On his return from Washington he had watched the house for nearly
four hours, half-expecting to see some sign of police activity. By the time he had finally deemed
it safe, the sun was already topping the trees in the east. The fact that the house had not been
raided meant one thing: the woman had followed through on her promise. He didn’t feel any
sense of sorrow over her death, nor did he feel any gratitude for her sacrifice. In fact, he was
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glad she was dead; she had been the most dangerous link between him and the Iranians. With the
woman out of the picture he was safe, at least for the moment.
Everything was on schedule. He would complete the main charge by early afternoon, securing
the more fragile components of the device in the van before testing the circuitry again. In the
evening he would begin the arduous task of arranging the heavy concrete blocks that, once lined
up against the metal partition that separated the cab from the cargo area, would serve to direct
the force of the blast out through the rear doors of the vehicle.
The screen door slapped shut behind him as he walked out across the black soil toward the barn,
stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the realtor’s Ford Escape parked next to the barn. The
sliding door, which he had eased shut but not locked, was now open wide to the cool morning
air.
He cursed low, under his breath. Lost in his thoughts, he had not heard her arrive, and the
kitchen window did not allow a view to the main road, from which he might have seen the
vehicle approaching the rear of the house. After a few brief seconds of deliberation, Vanderveen
kept walking forward.
She was standing next to the van, on the bare cement surrounded by straw. He looked around
quickly to see what she might have touched before examining her face, which was almost lost in
the shadows of the barn.
She had come to please. He could tell that from her tight jeans and stomach-baring halter top,
from the light touch of strawberry-colored lipstick to the way her honey-blond hair carefully
framed her high cheekbones. It was also clear that she had seen too much.
“Hi.” She was uncertain, he saw with some amusement, because her planned argument had been
ruined. He tried to remember her name. Nicole. “I was just… I just wanted to stop by
because… Well, you know.”
“Hi, Nicole. You don’t have to explain anything. I’m glad you came.” He flashed a winning
smile and moved forward without missing a beat. She took two steps back, but there was
nowhere to go. Pulling her close, he kissed her on the lips and let his hands slide down the length
