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“I remember his voice was very soft and gentle,” she said. “There was no anger, or hatred or rage. It was a job to him. A job he did very well. There was a look of peace on his face every time he took a hot iron to my ribs. Sometimes I wake up at night and I can still smell my flesh burning.”
“It was a job,” Nate said, echoing her words.
“We all understand the game we play,” she said. “Nothing interferes with the mission. Except death. I killed Farid.”
She looked at him then, but there was no expression on his face. No judgment or condemnation.
“Good,” he said. “I can’t think of anyone who deserved to die more.”
Then he sighed and pushed himself up to a sitting position. She had the feeling he would’ve gotten up and moved around the room if there’d been more room. She could feel the restless energy coming off him in waves.
“You asked about Warlock earlier,” he said.
“Nate,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I wasn’t thinking. I understand that sometimes secrets are the only way to let something die.”
He nodded and his lips pressed tight together. “Warlock was that man. A man like Farid.”
Eden froze, but she stayed silent. She could see the rigidness of his muscles, and the veins in his neck as his jaw clenched. As he found the courage to tell her about his past.
“You know how it is,” he said. “The government likes to give the media spin about how humane the agencies are. How we don’t torture our enemies. About how we only extract information with please and thank you and then let terrorists go on their merry way. But that’s all a lie. The mission is always about getting the job done. About protecting this country and the people in it. The agency tells you it’s for the greater good. That the secrets we’re extracting will save the human race as we know it. It’s true for the most part.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Nate. I know and understand better than anyone. Our jobs aren’t always pretty. But we do them as we see fit because it’s never just one person at risk.”
“I’ve stood over the most horrendous, evil men you could possibly imagine. Men without a conscience who killed their own mothers and wives and children to show that they had no weaknesses. Men who bombed schools and hospitals. Power corrupts the mind and soul, and once you get a thirst for it there’s no going back. I’m going to put some coffee on.”
He rummaged around in the pack and pulled out the small tin pot and supplies, setting everything over the fire. Her mouth watered as the scent of coffee rose. She could tell he was trying to gather his thoughts—determine what to share and what to hold back—and she gave him the space and stayed silent.
“We are the counter to their evil,” he said. “But are we really good? I tell myself I am. I know my team is alive to go home to their families because of choices I’ve made. So I don’t regret anything.
“But those choices eventually take a toll on the mind and the body. Especially the job that I had—that Warlock had,” he corrected. “There’s always a turning point in that particular line of work where you either cross the line and become that person forever—the kind of person who can torture and kill without a second thought. They either end up eating their own bullet because of the terrible things they’ve done, or they take a step back and decide to walk away from it all. Try to start over. Either way, in life or in death, the horror of it follows. You can never outrun it.”
“No, but you can survive it,” she said, beginning to understand him a little bit better. “And you were one who was able to walk away.”
“Did you know it was our team that was sent in to gather intel on where Osama bin Laden was being hidden?”
“No, but I could’ve guessed. They’d have sent in the best.”
“It was me and Atticus and Cypher. Gabe Brennan had already retired and Damian Huxley was supposedly dead, so our five-man team was already down to three. We each had our jobs. Atticus is like the wind. He blends so seamlessly that you never even realize he’s there until it’s too late. Cypher worked the tech. And I was the muscle. My job was to get as much information as possible so we could feed it to SEAL Team 6.”
Nate didn’t mention that the SEAL team was commanded by one of his closest friends. The identities of that particular team were fiercely guarded because of all the high-stakes missions they’d accomplished.
“Timing was crucial, and I did my job exactly how I was supposed to on a high-ranking official of Al Qaida.” He held up his hand and flexed it into a fist. “I know just where to hit to cause the most pain without rendering them unconscious. I broke him in eight hours and got all the information we needed. And then I happened to look up in time to catch my reflection in a shard of glass left over from a broken mirror that was hanging on the wall. I didn’t even recognize the eyes staring back at me.
“Then I thought of my daughter and wondered what she’d think of her father in that moment. I turned in my resignation as soon as I made it back stateside. Good timing on my part, as Atticus had already been setting up Dynamis and had everything in place. I didn’t know it was going to be his last mission too, but he didn’t have to try very hard to convince me to join him.” Nate let out a long breath as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.
“I’d follow Atticus into hell and back. Ihavefollowed him into hell and back. And eventually, maybe the good we’re doing now will make up for the person I was while working for the CIA. Warlock’s death was the best thing that ever happened to me. Until you.”
He leaned in and put his hands on each side of her face, causing her breath to catch, and he kissed her on the lips gently before releasing her.
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too,” he said. “We live a life that’s fast and furious. We’re trained to assess people and situations and feelings quickly. You and I are people who know what we know and make life and death decisions in seconds. Because our life depends on it. And I’m telling you what I know—that you and I are two missing pieces of a whole. Everything we’ve done and experienced up to this point has led us to where we are right now.”
“And where are we?” she asked.
“We’re together,” he said.
Eden realized in that moment that the feelings she’d had for Jonah would have burned off eventually. They were too hot and bright. But she saw a steadiness in Nate. A promise of stability. A promise of a lifetime. And that was something she hadn’t thought she’d ever want again. Growing old in their line of work wasn’t typical. But if she let herself imagine, she could see herself growing old with Nate. She could love him. And if they made it out of this mess alive, she promised herself she would tell him.
ChapterThirteen
