Page 142 of Whisper

“I’m not sure this guy is everything you want him to be,” David cautioned. “I think he’s pulling back because he can’t deliver. I think he’s been talking a big game with Ahmad and now it’s about to get real. And he’s not ready.”

“You think we’re being played?”

“He says the right things. Delivers the right intel. Seems to be in the know. But we don’t really know that for certain, do we? And we don’t know why he’s doing this.”

“We know the why. Twenty-five-million-dollar reward.”

“You know, I’ve always thought that reward was a silly amount.”

Kris’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Most people here don’t think that much money exists in the entire world. Twenty-five million dollars is make-believe money to them. Their entire lives can be lived on less than a hundred dollars.”

“Hamid is Jordanian. He’s Westernized. He for sure knows the value of twenty-five million.”

“We need to move slowly with Hamid. Carefully. Take our time understanding him.”

“No, no, no,” Kris sighed. Exasperation weighed down his words. “That’s exactly the opposite of what we need. We need to get inside his skull. Understand what he knows and what he can do for us. If he’s a con man, then we cut him loose. But we can’t just let this linger. What if he’s killed? Or worse?”

David took both his hands. Looked into his eyes. “What if this is a trap?”

“A trap?” Kris snorted. “So a mole that the Jordanians inserted two years ago is somehow conspiring with Zawahiri? And comes up with intelligence that matches multiple intercepts, all speaking to the same tactic? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would al-Qaeda, or Zawahiri, trust someone who had been sent to infiltrate them?”

“I don’t trust this guy’s change of heart. Idon’t.”

“David, what’s more likely? A huge conspiracy, years in the making, using sophisticated tactics al-Qaeda has never used before, trusting someone who was sent to burn them, who Ahmad swears is legitimate, in an attempt to trap us? Or that Hamid has been dazzled by the potential reward and he wants to cash in on his little adventure?” He paced, his hands on his hips. “Look, if anything, I think he’s playing a scam for money. Trying to cash in on the CIA’s dime. That happens all the time. Could it be happening here? Sure.” Kris cringed. “But, Jesus, I hope not.”

“Iknowthe Arab mind. The Arab soul. Things don’t just go away. We’re desert people. And the desert is eternal, Kris. The past lives inside the present and shapes every single day. History, the past… These aren’t just academic concepts. The past never leaves someone. Never.”

“David—”

“You and me, we’re CIA. We’re American, as American as you can get, but even we’ve been disgusted by the past years. There are times I have been ashamed to show my face to Muslims, to my fellow Arabs, because of what we’ve done. IfIfeel that way, then how do others feel? Who’ve lived every day on the front lines of the disintegration of their world?”

“I didn’t know you felt like that,” Kris said softly.

David kept going. “Hamid spent more years cheering on Saqqaf than he’s been undercover.”

“You think he’s still sympathetic to the jihadis?”

“I just don’t trust him, Kris. And I don’t want you to get hurt. I know how badly you want this. Everyone on this base and back in DC, seems to have Hamid fever. Be careful.”

He smiled and rested his hand on David’s chest, over his heart. “You always watch out for me, my love.”

David covered his hand. “I always will. Forever.”

“And I you.” Kris kissed him, sweetly, a peck on the lips, even though they were out on the airfield and anyone and everyone could see them. “But this is going to work. I promise. We started this seven years ago and we’re going to finish it. Together.”

David smiled. He said nothing.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Ahmad knocked on their door in the middle of the night. When Kris answered, he seemed morbidly fascinated by their shared quarters, by David sleeping facedown and shirtless in their bed and Kris in his sweatpants and tank top. He grinned so wide his face seemed to split in half.

“What’s up, Ahmad?” Kris shut their door firmly behind him.

Ahmad finally focused. “Hamid has emailed. He is willing to meet.”

“Excellent. What did he say? How soon can we meet him? What kind of travel is he able to do?”