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“If the tone of your voice is anything to go by, it must be worse than what you’ve already shared.”
How do you tell your best friend that his son has a target on his back?
“It’s about Sean,” I gravely begin. “Patrick knows Sean is on his tail, and he’s looking for him.
There is nothing but silence on the other end of the call, which is alarming.
“Is that the real reason he, Hadley, and my granddaughter have suddenly gone on vacation?” his stoic voice all but demands.
“Yes,” I quietly confirm.
“I knew it!” Ant bellows loudly.
His deep, loud voice thunders through my cell, startling me and nearly making me drop it. The anger that reverberates in his tone has me suspecting he already knew something more was at play.
“There was no logic to the timing of their departure; I knew it had something to do with his work in Afghanistan.”
Ranting, Ant continues to express his displeasure at the position the CIA has placed his son in.
“It’s no different to our lives, Ant,” I attempt to reason with him. “Were the positions they placed us in different from what Sean is currently facing?”
Grunting, he reluctantly agrees.
We never thought twice about the consequences during those missions we took, nor the repercussions of our actions towards our families. We should have, though, especially after my wife's and daughter's deaths, yet those thoughts have always been the furthest from our minds.
“He’s different from us, Hawke,” my friend solemnly tries to argue.
He is different because of our influences.
Agreeing, I admit to my long-term friend that his son Sean is different from the two of us. If I’m being honest, that boy of his is far better than his father or I ever were.
His instincts and skill set far exceed anyone we’ve ever trained over the last twenty years, and I tell him so. His silence is the only response I need to continue. Antony knows there is truth to my words, and he also knows that the only reason his son chose this line of work is because of us.
“But I believe I have a way of drawing Patrick out.”
“Please don’t say Emily,” he instantly replies.
It’s not like I want to use my pregnant fiancé, but Em is the only way we can draw Patrick out into the open, and I have no intentions of her being involved physically.
Telling me he still doesn’t like it, he asks about my plan anyway, so I inform him all we need is for Emily to set up the meeting.
If she organizes for it to be at the local CIA headquarters, it shouldn’t send any red flags, especially as Patrick is still an active agent. After that, Ant and I can take care of the rest, and I assure him I’ll send her back to Virginia so Charlie can keep her safe if required.
“Okay,” my friend reluctantly agrees. “You coordinate with the Brooklyn office, and I’ll make arrangements to travel on the next available flight.”
Ending the call, I make my way toward the bedroom to check on my sleeping beauty. The soft sounds of her snoring echo throughout the room, making me smile. If only Emily would accept how much of a toll this pregnancy has on her, she’d take better care of herself.
As I lean against the frame watching Em sleep, sweet memories of my deceased wife during her pregnancy suddenly engulf me. It always amazed me just how effortlessly Georgia made it appear, yet in hindsight, she never suffered any afflictions throughout her pregnancy with our daughter Christina.
Sadly, when the time came for our little girl to be born, I was traipsing through the desert in Afghanistan and was only alerted of her safe arrival upon my return to US soil. That moment of joy will not be robbed of me a second time, though, as this time, I plan to be by Em’s side every step of the way.
“What are you daydreaming about,mi oso?
The sound of Emily’s sweet angelic voice interrupts my thoughts.
“How beautiful you look right now.” I smile.
“You are just saying that to get me naked.”
