Page 226 of Whisper

“Dan, I owe him this, at least. He’s my husband.Was.I don’t know.”

At Kris calling Dawood hishusband, Dan’s expression twisted, a flash of pain bursting across his features. He took a deep breath, and it vanished. “I’m going to brief George, too. And Wallace. Same basic idea. If the mole is one of them, we’ll know when they start covering their tracks.”

He couldn’t argue with Dan’s plan. It was one of the fundamentals of counterterrorism investigations. Pressure the target, provide them with enough information to get their paranoia going. Watch for aftereffects, for their moves to get sloppy.

If there really was a mole. If this wasn’t just an elaborate hoax. Dawood’s last mindfuck.

“What can I do?” Dan said softly. “For you?”

“I don’t know,” Kris breathed. “You’re the only one I trust.”

God, hewantedto trust Dawood. He wanted to fall back through time to when he knew Dawood better than he knew himself, when he could understand exactly what Dawood thought and felt, more than he knew his own thoughts and feelings.

“Do you want to stay here?”

“At Langley? Locked up in headquarters like a prisoner? Fuck no.”

“Listen to me.” Dan took both of Kris’s hands in his own. “Please. Drive straight back to my house. Lock all the doors, all the windows. Stay. There. Haddad is fixated on you. He might come for you again now that we’re closing in on him. He might try and do something.” Dan swallowed. “I should get the police to escort you back home, get a patrol unit to sit at the curb. Watch over you. Keep you safe—”

“No. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll go straight back. There’s a huge police presence in your neighborhood now. I’ll be safe. And, I’ve done enough to fuck everything up. I’m done.”

Dan’s hand cupped his cheek. He stroked his thumb over Kris’s cheekbone, stared into his eyes. In front of the whole CIA and anyone who could be looking, Dan pressed his lips to Kris’s, kissing him gently, sweetly.

Kris felt nothing at all.

“Call me if you need anything,” Dan said. “Anything.”

“Stay safe.” Kris’s soul yo-yoed, and suddenly, Dawood was standing in front of him, cupping his cheek, smiling sweetly. It was right before the Hamid op and Dawood was about to head out, pick up Hamid, start the mission that would be the end of the line for both of them. Blinking, Kris shook his head. Dawood disappeared and Dan reappeared, gazing at him, concern and an ache that looked like love etched into the backs of his eyes.

Kris’s heart screamed, his soul rubbed raw, desperate and aching and wanting. He felt the ghost of Dawood’s hands on his body, felt Dan’s touch like a brand. He stepped back, out of Dan’s hold. “I’ll text you when I get to your place.”

Dan shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Kris walked backward to Dan’s car. He should say something, should tell Dan he believed in him, that he knew Dan could do this. He should thank Dan for always, always being there. He should say something, anything, before he drove away.

But his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat closed and the words just wouldn’t come. As he slid into Dan’s car, it felt, for a moment, like the Hamid op all over again, except this timehewas driving away and calamity would befall those left behind. Dan, the CIA, anyone,everyoneelse.

Had he done enough? Had he done too little?

What was the right choice, the right action?

Dan raised one hand, a silent goodbye, as Kris backed out of his parking spot.

He floored the little electric car out of Langley.

Dread followed him every mile of the drive, suffocating him inside Dan’s silent car.

September 11 was only 11 hours away.

Brentwood

Washington DC

September 10

1635 hours

[ You fucked up big time. ]