“What happened? Liesel?”
She sighed. “Ranger wanted to be the one to tell you, but what the hell? She isn’t here, and if you turn on the television or browse the news on your phone, you’ll see it. That’s all they’re talking about.”
“O-kay. So . . . what’s up?”
“Everett Westcott’s plane crashed into the ocean shortly after taking off from Teterboro,” Liesel said. “The official reports won’t be available for months, but Ranger confirmed a bomb exploded in the cargo compartment.”
“Holy shit,” Caspian said, immediately thinking about the crew members. “How many victims?”
“The two pilots, the flight attendant, and Westcott,” Liesel replied.
“Are they sure it was him? Are they sure Westcott’s dead?”
“They haven’t retrieved his body yet,” Liesel said. “But several witnesses saw him climb aboard the aircraft.”
“So ... what happens now?” he asked after a moment.
Liesel shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Defense Intelligence Headquarters
Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling
Washington, DC
Three Months Later
Caspian exited the elevator. He moved slower than he used to, not because he wanted to but because his body forced him to. The surgeries had gone well, but the process of regaining his strength had been slower and more frustrating than he expected. Physical therapy helped, but he wasn’t back to his old self just yet. Though he’d started exercising again, his chest still tightened when he exerted himself, and there were some mornings when the ache was such that it reminded him that a bullet had come within inches of ending it all.
But at least he was upright, and he was moving. That had to count for something, right?
Liesel, who’d been his anchor since he’d left the hospital, walked beside him. For the last three months, they’d been staying with his parents in Portland. At first, Caspian had been worried that Richard and Elizabeth might carry the trauma of what had happened the night of the shooting, but to his relief, they’d moved forward with surprising ease. His father had returned to his routines, including his weekly outing to the shooting range. Even his mother had taken up weekly sessions at the range. Caspian wasglad his parents weren’t consumed by fear. If anything, they seemed more grounded and more present than they had ever been.
His brother, Nelson, had recently accepted a position at the Maine Medical Center. Caspian suspected Nelson’s relationship with Clara was getting serious because the last time Caspian had spoken to his brother, Nelson had told him that he and Clara were considering buying a property a fifteen-minute drive from the family house.
As for him and Liesel, they walked the Old Port most mornings. They’d also signed up for cooking lessons, and somewhere along the way, Caspian had developed a deep love for coffee. Liesel called it an obsession. He called it peace. He’d even invested a significant amount of money in an expensive Italian espresso machine. The machine had so many levers and knobs that Caspian had to read the instruction manual several times to learn how to operate it. And even then, it took him at least twenty minutes each morning to calibrate it just right, to grind the beans by hand, and to test the water temperature. Liesel teased him endlessly about it, but he didn’t care.
A month ago, at his request, Ranger had withdrawn the last of his security detail. Caspian had told her he didn’t want to live under a dome anymore. And Liesel had agreed. There hadn’t been any threats since. At least none that he could see.
But then, two days ago, Ranger had called him to request an in-person meeting with him and Liesel at the DIA headquarters. They both knew they would eventually have to return to the DIA.
Ranger’s assistant opened the door for them. When Caspian stepped inside Ranger’s office, he was surprised to see Nicklas Drescher. The BND officer stood near the window.
“Nicklas?” Liesel said, smiling. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Neither did I,” added Caspian, shaking his hand.
“Apparently, our friend Nicklas has something he’d like to share with us,” Ranger said, gesturing for them to sit.
Caspian could tell Ranger was a tad annoyed with Drescher.
“The BND has decided not to renew the liaison officer position with the SSU,” he said.
Ranger frowned, her eyes narrowing. “That’s ridiculous, Nicklas. Liesel is vital to our coordination efforts with our European partners. You know this.” Then, looking at Liesel, she said, “I’ll fight this, Liesel. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t want you to fight this, Samantha,” Liesel said. “I’m not staying.”
