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“I don’t rat out my own kind. Not when they’re working for the home team.”
“Do you still work for the home team?”
Are you really out of the CIA?
A soft chuckle filled the line. “I was traded down to the minors. Same team name, different employer.”
She snorted. “You don’t strike me as the type to give up the big league without complaint.”
“On the contrary. I asked to be traded. Free agency.”
She rolled her eyes even as she smiled at Chris.
Ian switched languages to Arabic. “Listen, I know the lieutenant is listening. Are you with him willingly?”
She was taken aback by the question. She responded in Arabic. “That’s an interesting question considering he’s the one who told me to trust you.”
“And now you’ve confirmed his identity. Your tradecraft needs work.”
Shit. This wasn’t even tradecraft. It was basic interrogation. And she’d failed.
“Answer the question. Are you with him willingly?”
“Naeam.” Yes. She continued, still speaking Arabic, “Why do you ask?”
“There may be a leak on his team.”
She kept her face blank, channeling everything Freya had taught her a lifetime ago about facial response. “How is that possible?”
“It happens. In my line of work, you look for cracks and make them wider. It would’ve been your line of work too had it not been for the accident.”
He knew about her previous CIA dreams and Salim.
“What kind of leak?”
“It’s possible there was a tip that the raid was coming, which would explain why the big man and the goods weren’t there when the time came.”
She looked at Chris, again keeping her face blank.
For his part, his poker face was long gone. She knew he spoke some Arabic—most SEALs knew basic phrases and other key words. He had to be wondering what it was that Boyd didn’t want him to know. She’d have to figure out what to say when the call ended.
“Did you tell your client this?”
“He knows nothing but what you said in our meeting. I had to give him a translated transcript.”
That was fair. “How did he know about…who I met in the desert?”
“Not from me.”
“But you knew.”
“Yes. And I know you spotted an old friend in Germany. Someone in the IC is being careless—even reckless—with your intel, some of which found its way to my client, possibly to give them ammunition to force your extradition.”
Chapter Forty
Now it was Chris’s turn to pace. Diana was holding something back, and it didn’t sit well with him. His phone pinged. Rand had replied to his text. Chris sent a thumbs-up emoji, then tucked his phone away.
At the same time, the burner pinged, and Diana read the text from Ian. “His contact agreed to pass on a thumb drive to Freya. He sent the drop-site location.”
