One Last Scent of Jasmine (Boone's File Book 3) (42 page)

It required little effort to give her his full attention. It would have been true for any man. “Regarding?” he asked.

“You and me, Terry.” Her green eyes were neither evasive nor upset, holding only the loving and frighteningly alive gaze enduring in his best memories. “The misgivings I held for the two of us working in such close proximity seem to have been borne out. Things need to change, and I suspect you know it every bit as well.”

The DNI felt her words cut through his hopes and into the domain of his adult mind.
She’s right. It was a mistake from the beginning and a result of my loneliness.
He gave the moment its due consideration before speaking. “It’s possible you’re correct,” he admitted, unable to muster much enthusiasm for the words. His administrative side anticipated her solution. “You’re wanting to return to Level One, I assume?”

“Terry,
no
… not at all. Even there, I wouldn’t be safe from my feelings for you.”

Shit.
“Geneva, then, to work with your father.”

Sighing, she shook her head just as sadly. “No, I’m afraid not.” Her eyes took on a more businesslike glint. “My relationship with him interferes there, too … in a way unfair to his other operators.”

Where is she going with this? What future is she going to choose?
Bradley felt himself to be at a loss, and the tone of his voice revealed his confusion. “
What
then, Boone? What is it you want to do?”

She reached out and took his hand, her grip as small and as strong as it had ever been in their best moments. “Terrence Bain Bradley … marry me. Make me your wife.” Residing at the apex of the most capable intelligence organizations ever assembled by any government, the Director of National Intelligence realized even he could still experience the chill of being completely blindsided. “Boone—”

Her grip did not diminish. “Yes, Terry?”

“—I’m not
good
at it.”

She swiveled around and dropped to her knees in front of him, looking slightly upward in a manner he knew to be meant as a comfort. “Oh, spare me, Mister Bradley,
sir
. All you ever needed was a woman who knows why the phone rings at three in the morning … someone who can provide the stability and the support you need to get through day after day of a job like this one. You’re up to living your life. You need a woman who is just as strong. You’ll have the wife you deserve for the first time. I
promise
.”

“And what will
you
have, Boone?” he asked. “OPM won’t allow you to remain in ODNI. It would mean the end of your career as a case officer.”

“I’ll have my last chance to bring a life into this world, Terry, after having taken far too many out of it.” Her eyes, it was plain to see, projected nothing but the most beautiful glimmer of hope for the life which could be theirs. “Besides … with the secrets we share, either of us would be insane to ever let the other out of our sight,
n’est ce pas?
”

When he could not find the words, she found them for him. “What do you say, Mister Bradley? Feel like training for this mission together?”

Yeah. Forever.
Sighing, he held up his hands. “I have no ring, Boone.”

Smiling, she rose and took those hands to draw him up onto his feet. “Neither do I. Kiss me, if you accept my offer … and my resignation.”

Her arms went around his neck, and they shared the moment, no longer adulterated with guilt or ethical impropriety. He realized he was as hungry for it as was she. Consequently, it lasted an appropriate and wonderfully long span of time.

Here we go.
He looked into the pools of loving jade which were her eyes. “Boone, was that the last chance I will ever have to say ‘no’ to you?”

She grinned and then shrugged. “I’ve given up forecasting the future, Terrence, dear.” Her eyes glinted in a different way as a thought shone through them. “It’s something I learned not long ago. Sometimes you have to let go, and walk in faith.”

“Dinner tonight, then” he suggested, surreptitiously gauging the size of her ring finger against his smallest digit.
And before then, one hell of a jeweler.

“Definitely,” she replied.

Measuring my finger with your own. You clever man.
The look in his eyes had been restored to the state for which she had longed, Boone realized, as was the condition of her spirit. Beneath her blouse, the gold of Thibaut’s crucifix rested, warmed by her skin. The feeling also represented a welcome change. For the first time, Rebecca Boone Hildebrandt felt worthy of the effort which had been put into her existence.

I get it now. Love was where it all began, isn’t it?
Boone, in her mind, reached the end of the long, white hallway once haunting her REM sleep.
I can do this. I definitely believe I can do this,
she thought.
Thank you, Lord.

There in Terry’s arms, she opened the door from her recurring dream. A portal she had sought nightly appeared at last, and she stepped out into bright, warm sunshine.

*****

Boone will return in
Meat for the Lion
.

A note from the author:

Personal responsibility held by citizenry to keep government within its bounds is the essential fabric of a free society. Without widely held adherence to the concept, a population slowly assumes the status of something less, eventually giving itself over to the herd instinct of the willingly managed.

Likewise, once a nation’s leaders are no longer held to account for the results of poor policy—the ill effects originating in obvious incompetence or outright disregard for the limitations of an office—society also suffers. The erosion of valid standards of behavior degrades principle until hard-and-fast guidelines demarcating Right and Wrong are no longer acknowledged. Such is a formula tailor-made for the onset of opportunistic tyranny.

Tyranny to some—rather than being anathema as in the case of a free-thinking person—is the goal. When presented, often it is couched in psychologically appealing terms such as “hope,” “fundamental change,” “progress” and “action.” Foundational to the scheming of the architects of collectivism is the breakdown of the individual's ability to shoulder the burdens of managing a responsible life.

We are every one responsible for the state of our lives and collectively for the condition of the world in general. Responsibility requires, at times, the sacrifice of self-interest in the name of duty. One must also willingly accept the outcome of one’s best effort, be it stellar, average or abysmal. Only by accepting the inequality of outcome—resulting from the innate differences in ability and talent—can we as a people ensure an environment of universal accountability in which our personal dignity and economic freedoms will endure.

Displaying such character, a task far from being easy, calls for a unique category of strength instead. It requires embracing the valid faith God promises to souls who seek Him with their whole heart, and the same conviction those who wish to oppress us aspire to extinguish. Boone has found hers. It remains my sincere hope you have as well.

-DA

And if I may:

Independent authors have no advertising budget or promotion department outside of our own efforts. If you enjoyed this work,
please
tell other readers. An honest review posted online is the lifeblood of a book such as this one. The number and quality of a title’s reviews primes retailing website engines, presenting it to more visitors who might be browsing for their next good read. I will be grateful.

The drafting of and revisions to Dale Amidei novels demand uncounted hours of labor to write, edit, format and otherwise see a project to fruition. They might have been released in a lesser form in many fewer months, but such would have been a betrayal of each work and reduced the quality of my readers’ experience. If it so happened you came to read this by means other than commerce, or if you have enjoyed my writing and would like to see more, I arranged the opportunity for readers to provide patronage via any major credit card through PayPal on my website:

http://www.daleamidei.com/

In any event, I am humbled you allocated time to my efforts. This in itself is a gift from you to me, and in the case I never have a chance to say it personally:  Thank You!

Choose to Love. -Dale Amidei

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Also by Dale Amidei:

Jon’s Trilogy:

The Anvil of the Craftsman (2011)

The Britteridge Heresy (2012)

Killing Doctor Jon (2013)

Sean’s File:

Operation Naji (2013)

Romeo Down: Short Story (2014)

Boone’s File:

Absinthe and Chocolate (2014)

The Bonus Pool (2015)