The Bin Laden Plot

Angie caught a partial reflection of her face in the kitchen window. She was attractive, no doubt. She turned heads when she entered a room, and she could have dated almost any man she wanted in high school and college. But she still felt inferior to Christine. The woman who had spent three years as the president’s national security advisor and was now the director of the CIA was in a different league from someone who was a member of an elementary school’s parent-teacher association.

The phone rang, and Angie let the answering machine pick up. It was Christine, letting them know she would arrive in fifteen minutes. After she hung up, Angie took a deep breath, then opened the back door and yelled to Jake, letting him know Christine was almost there.

She returned to the living room and waited, checking over her shoulder occasionally to see if Jake had come in from the yard, until she spotted a black SUV with two men in the front seats approaching. The vehicle pulled into the driveway and stopped. Christine stepped from the vehicle and walked to the front door, accompanied by one of her protective agents holding an umbrella over her, shielding her from the misty rain.

Angie glanced over her shoulder again. There was no sign of Jake.

Damn him. Leaving her alone to greet Christine again.

She waited for the doorbell to ring, then after one last glance in the mirror and a rearrangement of a wayward lock of hair, she opened the door.

“Director O’Connor, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Angie forced the words out.

“Please, call me Christine,” the CIA director said as she entered the foyer.

The protective agent, after a quick look inside, returned to the SUV.

“Thank you again for accommodating my visit on such short notice,” Christine said as she accompanied Angie through the living room and into the kitchen. “During my last visit, I forgot to mention what a lovely home you have.”

Angie was sure Christine didn’t mean it. Her home was nice, but it surely didn’t measure up to the luxurious homes and mansions Christine would have visited during her career in Washington. But at least Christine was trying to be nice. They stopped at the kitchen window, looking out over the backyard. Jake was edging a flower bed with a straight-edge shovel, cutting back the intruding grass.

“That’s so like him,” Christine said. “Trying to take his mind off things.”

“Yeah,” Angie said as she was hit with a twinge of jealousy. Christine knew Jake as well as she did, and maybe even better.

Angie opened the back door. “Jake! Christine’s here!”

Harrison looked up, then stowed the shovel in a nearby barn before trudging toward the house in the light rain. Angie disappeared into an adjacent laundry room, returning with a towel she tossed to her husband as he entered.

“Hi, Chris,” he said as he dried his face and hair.

“Hi, Jake,” Christine replied, then smiled warmly.

Jake didn’t return the smile. He gestured toward the kitchen table, and all three took their seats. Harrison draped the towel around his neck.

“What’s so important this time?” he asked.

Under the table, Angie placed her hand on Jake’s thigh and squeezed it gently, showing her appreciation. Prior to Christine’s arrival, they had discussed her pending visit and potential reasons why — most likely another CIA job offer. Angie had pointed out that Jake had agreed years ago to take a safer job after retiring from the Navy, one where he didn’t put his life on the line every time he went to work. Jake had loved being a SEAL, but it was time now to think of Angie and their twelve-year-old daughter, Madeline, and the impact on them if anything happened to him. His first responsibility was to his wife and daughter now, not his country. He had already served it well.

Following Jake’s retirement, Angie had looked forward to the end of sleepless nights, lying awake wondering if she and Maddy would ever see him again. But then Jake took the CIA job, and a few weeks later, she had received the call she had always dreaded. Jake was in a hospital in critical condition, and they didn’t know if he was going to make it. She had left Maddy with a friend and flown to Virginia, joining Jake in his hospital room after his surgery. He’d been lucky. Although Mixell’s first bullet had been the most painful, shattering a shoulder blade, the second one had almost killed him, narrowly missing his heart.

Jake’s wounds had finished healing and he had quit the CIA, finally putting the high-risk jobs behind them. Upon learning of Christine’s visit today, Jake had agreed to decline another job offer if she presented it — there was no reason for him to return to the CIA.

Christine’s response, however, changed everything.

“Lonnie is alive.”

A cold shiver ran down Angie’s spine. Jake’s body tensed, but his facial expression remained unchanged. She imagined that the same thoughts going through her mind were going through his.