Page 135 of Whisper

She held her hand out to her doorway.

He ran into Dan after lunch, outside CTC. Dan looked worn and tired, thinner than before, pale.

“Kris!” Dan beamed and wrapped him up, hugging him for a long moment. “I heard all about Iraq, what you did. Taking out Saqqaf. Amazing, as per usual.” He laughed, held onto Kris’s arms, as if he didn’t want to let go. “How are you?”

“Good!” Kris waggled his left hand. “We did it. We ran away to Canada!”

Dan’s jaw dropped as he stared at Kris’s ring. He froze. Blinked. Inhaled sharply. “You and David? You got married?”

“We did!” Kris pulled a face. “Not that the CIA or the United States government are recognizing it, but I’m not giving up the fight.”

Dan chuckled, the sound wan, thin. “You never do. But they’re going to have to give in to you. They don’t know what they’re facing.” He stared at Kris, slowly smiling. “David is a very,verylucky man, Kris. Averylucky man.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“No. He is,” Dan said softly.

“What’s been going on with you? You look like shit. Are they overworking you?”

Dan snorted, half laughing and turning away. “Thanks. That’s what I’ve always wanted to hear from you.” He shook his head. “I was at Gitmo.” He shrugged. “After everything, though, I came back to headquarters. I’ve been working with George. In operations.”

“Ooh, on management track.” Kris wagged his eyebrows. His voice turned serious. “How was Gitmo? I heard it was bad. Real bad. Lots of abuse, lots of crossing the line.”

Dan sighed. He stared at the wall as his eyes narrowed. “It’s in the past now. It’s all over and done with.”

“You okay? I mean, really okay?” Kris reached for his elbow and squeezed.

Dan covered his hand with his own. “I’m all right.”

“Seeing anyone?”

“Nah. All the best guys are taken.” He winked.

“We’ll find you someone, Dan. Someone wonderful, just like you.”

Dan blushed. “I’m good. I’m really happy for you, Kris. I’m happy you’re happy. Keep in touch?”

“Of course. You too!”

At three in the afternoon, Kris barged into Director Edwards’s office, fired up and ready for a fight. He fumed, thoughts racing through his mind, a bitter diatribe against the CIA, against their policies, against the federal government, against DOMA, against George and the entire world that seemed pitted against him and David. He kept circling back to the same thing, over and over.

If he was good enough to find the United States’ enemies, why wasn’t he good enough to be recognized by the CIA or the federal government? Why was his marriage such an abhorrent thing? Was the government that tortured detainees, that had enabled the decisions that allowed Abu Ghraib to happen, actually going to say his love was worse?

Fuck that.

He stormed in, fire in his wake. If he could have killed a man with the force of his glare, headquarters would have been littered with corpses. “Director—”

“Ahh, Mr. Caldera.” Director Edwards smiled and nodded to the leather club chairs across from his desk. George sat in one, scowling. “Please, join us.”

“Sir, first of all, I have to say—”

“You got what you wanted, Caldera,” George interrupted. He held up a manila folder. “It’s all in here. Your orders to Afghanistan. And his.”

Director Edwards smiled again. “Please take a seat, Mr. Caldera. We need to go over the details of your assignment.”

Slowly, he sat, taking the folder from George and perusing the orders. He and David were assigned to the mission. David was to be one of the senior security specialists, and he was being given command of a remote CIA base in the Afghanistan-Pakistan border region.

The orders were addressed to Ryan. He’d be reporting directly to him, in Kabul. Kris couldn’t hold back his snort, his eye-roll.