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Jesus Christ. What the hell did I say?

Before I could respond, we saw them walking back toward us. I looked at her and said, “Therapy night is over. Do we actually have a hotel room? Where are we going?”

Jennifer looked at me, squinted, then said, “We’re going to talk about you sooner or later. You bottle up too much stuff.”

I knew where she was going, and also knew she was right. She was convinced that the things I’d done in the name of national security were eating at my soul—and they were. But tonight was not the night for that discussion. I said, “Hotel?”

Jennifer pursed her lips, knowing I was changing the subject, and looked at her phone, saying, “Yeah, we have a few rooms at a place called the Serena. It’s about five minutes from here. Veep and Brett are there now. They picked it for the robust Wi-Fi, which is apparently hard to find here in Dushanbe.”

Knuckles reached the Rover and I opened the door, stepping out and giving Carly a hug. “Not sure why a Spanish speaker is running the show here in Tajikistan.”

She laughed and said, “Not sure why they got you two to do anything about it. Wouldn’t be my first choice.”

I opened the passenger door and said, “You take what you can get. Like getting you.”

She gave me a fake frown, then sat down, seeing Jennifer in the front seat. I saw her face light up, and she leaned forward, givingher a hug. She said something, and Jennifer laughed, then she leaned back again. I really wanted to know what she’d said, but those two had been through hell together, and I wasn’t going to interrupt the reunion.

I sat behind the wheel and said, “Okay, Jane Bond, what’s going on here?”

“They didn’t tell you? You just drove up here in a lather because they asked?”

I started driving and said, “No. I know there’s a guy to get out, but that’s about it. What’s your cover for status here? We’re running around as a bunch of archeologists to get them a UNESCO rating. Why are you here?”

She looked at Knuckles and said, “I’m here under diplomatic cover. Under the State Department, with the cover coming from the chief of station. I came in two days ago as an agricultural expert, and that’s what I’m doing, as far as the government here knows.”

“So you have official creds? You’re not here as a NOC?” Meaning she had backstopping from the embassy as opposed to operating like us—nonofficial cover.

“Definitely official. I’m backstopped all the way through the embassy. But that’s why we need you. The embassy can’t be involved in this. It’s a clean in-and-out. We get this done, and nobody will even know.”

Knuckles said, “Yeah, well, we’d kind of like to know what the ‘in-and-out’ is all about. What’s going on?”

She held out a thumb drive and said, “At the hotel. Let’s get everyone together, because we’re going to need the entire team.”

Chapter10

Twenty minutes later, we were in our suite at the Serena. After living on the ground for two weeks, I was hoping the place was like the Ritz-Carlton, but it wasn’t. It was utilitarian to the extreme, meaning that the room was serviceable, but was definitely built for some Soviet Union officers. There were no amenities, outside of a few pictures on the walls that looked as if they’d been painted by the maids. If it served a purpose, they had included it, but if it didn’t, it was gone. The toilet paper was like a roll of brown restaurant hand wipes and the bed was apparently built on a plywood stage without a mattress.

It did have a desk with a power outlet, though, and that’s where I found Brett, furiously working a computer, but having no luck.

He turned when I entered, saying, “None of the Taskforce shit works here. It’s like the government has a firewall against us connecting.”

I said, “Okay, okay. We need to get the SITREP in to Wolffe. I’m sure the Oversight Council is wetting their pants because we haven’t contacted them. Keep trying, but I’m not holding up the mission for a report just saying we’ve made linkup with Carly.”

I turned to the room and said, “Nobody use a Taskforce cell phone unless I say. Use the burner phones we purchased. I want nothing from the Taskforce touching cell infrastructure here.”

I got a bunch of nods, then turned to Carly and said, “So, goodto be working together again. Now tell me what the hell we’re doing here.”

She said, “There’s a man on the run who’s done more for the United States than any man penetrating the Iron Curtain during the Cold War. I mean this guy helped us more than Jack Strong in Poland. He is the singular reason for most of our strategic successes against the Haqqani network and the Taliban.”

I smiled and said, “Well, from what I’m hearing, that amounted to jack shit. The country is falling apart, and all we’re doing is holding on to the airport.”

Carly scowled and said, “That’s not his fault. He risked his life for us, and we’re going to bring him home. That’s the mission.”

“Why him? Why should I risk my team and my company to gethimhome? When there are a thousand others to save? Where’s the CIA on this? He’s their guy. I’ve seen the news now. The airport is a shit show. Why does he rate ‘favored nation status’?”

Jennifer saw my anger and stood up, as if she was going to say something. I held out my hand, telling her to keep her mouth shut, because I was a little aggravated at the secrecy. And a little aggravated at how Afghanistan had ended. I wanted some payback, and if sweating Carly was the only way to get it, I would.

She said, “The CIA is doing what they can for the men they recruited. He is just one of them, butwehave the ability to get him out of here.”