Freefall (25 page)

“If you love each other, you both owe it to yourselves to talk this out,” Seth insisted. “How can you say you love her, but then not give her any choices about her own future?”

Brent just shook his head. “Please.” His voice softened. “Can we please end this discussion?”

“Suit yourself.” Seth rested his hand on the doorknob. “But if I were you I would at least talk to her.”

Brent watched him leave, grateful that he closed the door behind him. He leaned back in his chair and just let himself stare into space.
Seth doesn't understand,
he told himself. He was doing Amy a favor by leaving her alone and letting her get on with her life. He shut his eyes against the images Quinn had painted of Amy dancing with a bunch of other men.
She's better off without me,
he assured himself
. She couldn't possibly be happy married to a Navy SEAL.
Eventually he would get over her. After all, supposedly time heals all wounds. He very nearly believed it.

Her training was nearly done. Amy walked beside her escort through the halls of the original headquarters building of the Central Intelligence Agency. They passed by the wall where portraits of past directors hung neatly and then turned the corner and moved through the glass-encased hallway to the new headquarters building.

Today she would finally get to work on a case that related to her new job. Even though she had done well in her training, doubts were creeping in as the day drew closer that she would start working with Brent's unit. She knew now that he didn't want to see her. Of that she had little doubt. She just had to figure out a way to live with his decision.

Her heart ached, something she had never known was physically possible. She forced herself to go through each day wondering if she could possibly do this job knowing that she would have to see Brent every day. After the time they had spent together, she knew he cared for her, at least to some extent. She just hadn't wanted to consider that he really might not be the marrying type.

With four of the five men in his unit single, she wondered now if all of them kept their relationships from getting too serious because they knew their careers would always come first. For all she knew, Brent had backed off from her because he didn't want things to get too serious. She wondered if he knew that she had already completely fallen for him.

Over a month had passed and she hadn't heard anything from him—not even a courteous phone call to let her know he was okay. She thought that maybe she could have convinced herself that he was just on assignment somewhere if she hadn't seen his friends at the dance.

After talking with Seth, she had made some casual inquiries as to how many positions existed like the one she was slated to fill. She had found that there were three others that were currently vacant, but the one with Brent's unit held the highest priority.

Understanding that she would be filling an important role within that unit, she had decided to take the job and then request a transfer as soon as someone else became available who was qualified to replace her. All of the other open positions were located in California rather than Virginia, but she was willing to make that move if it meant she wouldn't have to face Brent every day.

She tried to push him out of her mind as she was shown to a conference room. A woman was already sitting at the table with a file open in front of her. When she noticed Amy, she stood up and moved to shake her hand. “You must be Amy. I'm Glenna.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Let me show you what we've got here.” Glenna motioned for her to sit down and slid a file to her. “Basically, we're taking the raw intelligence on a recent case and preparing an intel report as though we are getting ready to send a SEAL unit into a combat situation.”

“So this is like a test, to see if I can put the pieces together?” Amy asked.

Glenna nodded. “In a manner of speaking. Management likes to conduct these reviews every so often to help evaluate our intelligence-gathering and interpretation processes. I was chosen to help you because I just transferred from another office and I don't have any firsthand knowledge either. The combat situation is an actual scenario that the unit you will be working with went through recently.”

Amy pulled a notepad out of her briefcase as Glenna gave her some basic instructions. A few minutes later she sat down and started reading through the first file. She noticed a date, realizing that this must have been the mission that had called Brent away so suddenly when they were at the movies together.

Other than breaking for lunch, the two women worked silently beside each other throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Only an hour after lunch Glenna closed her file and pushed back from the table. “I'm done except for typing up my report. Are you close to being finished?”

Amy nodded. “I'm getting there.”

“Go ahead and use that computer when you're ready,” Glenna said, pointing to a PC in the corner of the room. “I'll be back to check on you when I finish.”

Amy nodded and turned back to finish reading the bio on Fahid Ramir and his family. She scribbled a few more notes and then moved across the room to type up her report. She tried to imagine what Brent and his team would need to know if they were going into a potentially hostile situation. The answer was simple: everything.

Once she got started, everything just flowed from her mind to her fingertips and finally into the computer. When Glenna came in, Amy didn't break stride, afraid that she might lose her train of thought as she approached her conclusions. Ten minutes passed before she finally finished and turned to see Glenna sitting at the table waiting for her.

“Done?”

“I think so,” Amy said, and she hit the print button. “Now what?”

“Now we get to meet with someone familiar with this situation and defend our findings.” Glenna told her.

With a nod, Amy collected her report from the printer. She skimmed over it while Glenna went to find the person they were supposed to meet with next. Amy stood when Glenna returned with a man in his forties. She introduced him simply as Kyle.

Kyle motioned for Glenna to sit down next to Amy, and he chose a seat across the table from them. “Glenna, why don't you go first.”

Glenna nodded, beginning by going over the basics, when the yacht had set sail, who was rumored to be on board, the eyewitness account that Ramir had been seen on board before the yacht set out. She then went on to make her assumptions, many of them based on the interview with an eyewitness.

As Glenna continued, Amy started to question whether she had read too much into the reports. Her list of assumptions, or rather possibilities, was extensively longer than Glenna's, and their analyses of how many people were on board varied greatly.

When finally Glenna finished, Kyle turned to Amy. “How does your report compare to Glenna's?”

Amy glanced over at Glenna, recognizing that Glenna had significantly more experience and was more likely to have made an accurate analysis. For a brief moment, Amy was tempted to say that their reports were similar, but she just didn't have it in her to lie. “Actually, we have a lot of differences.”

Kyle nodded and leaned forward. “I know it's difficult, but try to pretend that you haven't already heard Glenna's analysis and tell me what you think.”

“Our basic facts agree,” Amy started. “But I'm concerned about what time the yacht set out. Leaving in the middle of the night suggests that something was going on they didn't want anyone to see.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know exactly,” Amy admitted, and she flipped to the second page of her report. “The receipt from the local market makes me think that we are dealing with at least twice as many people as what the eyewitness reported. And they ordered hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.”

“Hot dogs?” Kyle asked, an eyebrow lifting.

Amy nodded. “According to the bio on Ramir, all of his children are already grown, and none of them have children of their own. It makes me ask why he would order hot dogs, especially since its doubtful his family would eat pork because of their religion. Besides, that isn't something that one would usually find on the menu on board a luxury yacht.”

“If you had to speculate, what does this tell you?”

“It tells me that someone else was on board besides Ramir's family, most likely including at least one child between the ages of two and ten. The hour they departed suggests that some of the people on board may not have been there of their own free will.”

Kyle nodded and pushed back from the table. “Thank you, ladies. I think I have heard enough.”

“Did you want us to consolidate our reports?” Glenna asked, also standing.

Kyle shook his head. “That won't be necessary. I'll just take a copy of your individual reports.”

Amy shuffled her notes together and slipped them into a file along with the finished copy of her report. “Is that it for today?” she asked Kyle.

“Yes. Glenna can show you out, and then I believe you will report to your new job tomorrow.” Kyle walked to the doorway and then turned back. “By the way, the child was nine.”

Amy smiled, pleased that her analysis hadn't been completely off after all. As she studied Kyle's face and realized he had used past tense when he referred to the child, her smile faded. “Was?”

Kyle gave a brief nod and continued out of the room.

Amy felt a wave of grief wash over her as she thought of the child whose life had been cut short. Her next thought was of Brent. He had been there. He knew that an innocent life had been taken, and he had had more than just a brief mention of the tragedy. He had lived it.

Beside her, Glenna turned to face Amy. “Is he saying that a child was killed because no one noticed hot dogs on the grocery list?”

“I think so.”

Nervously, Glenna turned and gathered up the files they'd been using. When she turned back, a sheen of tears were in her eyes. “I read right over that grocery list and didn't notice anything at all. I mean, I thought it was weird for rich people to eat hot dogs, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“I think in cases like these, it's best to give too much information than too little,” Amy said gently. “The people relying on this information don't assume anything. That means we can't either.”

“If I didn't know better, I would swear you were the one who'd been working here for five years instead of me.” Glenna shook her head. “Where did you learn so much?”

“In Abolstan.”

“Looks like you were right.” Kel dropped a file marked “Top Secret” on Brent's desk in front of him. “Intel did mess up this time.”

“What?” Brent looked up, his eyes sharp. “How did we get them to admit that?”

“CIA had two people do intel reports based on the original information available before we moved in.” Kel sat down in the chair across from Brent. “One of the reports was almost identical to the one we got. That's the other one.”

Brent flipped open the file and scanned the report. His eyes widened when he saw the mention of the grocery list, including the quantity of food as well as the fact that hot dogs were on the receipt. “Hot dogs.” Brent shook his head. “How did everyone miss that?”

“They had an eyewitness that saw Ramir's family board the yacht. The source was reliable, so everyone just skipped over the information they thought wasn't important,” Kel replied. “The good thing is that this case will be used to illustrate how important these mistakes are and how to avoid them.”

“They need more people like the one who wrote this report,” Brent said, flipping back to the first page. He noticed Amy Whitmore's name on the author line just as Kel spoke.

“The CIA doesn't get her.” Kel waited for Brent to look up at him before continuing. “We do.”

Brent's eyes widened. “What?”

“She starts tomorrow.” Kel stood up. “Get with Seth and figure out where we want her to set up. One of you can share an office with her, or you can double up so she can have her own.”

“You can't be serious,” Brent managed, still trying to catch up. “Amy Whitmore is filling our support position?”

“That's what I said. Admiral Mantiquez had to do some fast talking on our behalf to keep one of the California units from snatching her from us.”

“This isn't happening,” Brent muttered to himself.

“Oh, it's happening all right.” Kel turned toward the door. “I want an office set up for her before our training session this afternoon.”

Brent could only stare as he watched Kel walk out the door. He shook his head, his mind still trying to comprehend the situation.
I can't do this,
he thought to himself. He was used to working through hopeless situations, overcoming impossible odds. But suddenly he wasn't sure he could face this kind of impossible odds.

How could he get over her if he had to see her every day? He had already chastised himself for his behavior in the desert. More than once he had fought the temptation to kiss her when they were in Abolstan. If he could barely maintain a professional distance in a hostile country, how in the world could he steer clear of her under normal circumstances?

He tried to consider the current dilemma of where to set up her office. Tristan and Quinn were already sharing one of the four offices allotted to his team while they were temporarily stationed here at Quantico. As the commanding officer, Kel needed to keep a private office. That left the options that Kel had already spelled out. The thought of sharing an office with Amy was just too uncomfortable, and though he trusted Seth completely, he didn't like the idea of Amy spending her day in an office with him either. Reluctantly, Brent got up and crossed the hall to Seth's office.