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Thirty-five days ago, I did one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, and got in a car that would whisk me away from the hospital where I told the woman I believed was my soulmate that I loved her.
“You keep her safe,” I said to Decker countless times on the drive from there to the airfield that would take me to the place where I’d stay until it was safe for me to come out of hiding. Or until my location was compromised and I’d be forced to move.
The small house sat across the bay from where I knew Ali lived and where she was being protected from harm.
I didn’t know for sure whether anyone would come after her, but I couldn’t take any chances. When this was finally all over, I just hoped she’d forgive me for what I’d had no choice but to do.
“There’s something you need to know,” Decker had said to me that night.
“Is it about Ali?”
“Yes.”
“Decker, I?—”
“No, Cope. You need to know.”
When he told me Ali worked for the Internal Affairs Division of the United States Inspector General, I wasn’t surprised. It was the only element of the CIA created separately by statute that had obligations to both the agency and to Congress and was responsible for overseeing accountability in the management of CIA activities by performing independent investigations of programs and operations when necessary.
It took me a few days to process that news, but in my gut, I didn’t believe it had only been about the job for her. Ali cared for me. I sensed it deep in my soul. Part of me hoped she loved me as much as I loved her, but I wouldn’t know that until the day came when I could finally look into her ocean eyes and ask.
Decker kept me abreast of her as well as Irish, who had recovered fully and was also being guarded in a safe, undisclosed location.
While Ali had been permitted to stay in her home, the level of security protecting her was unprecedented and had been arranged by my father, who I spoke with at least once every few days.
He’d put the full force of the United States Senate Select Committee on Intelligence behind the investigation into the mole that had been selling secrets to the Chinese for almost a decade and who had been responsible for the deaths of dozens of agents, operatives, and assets.
In the end, as I’d expected, it wasn’t one man, but many, who made up the network of double-agents, all of whom had been arrested in a carefully planned and executed manner. The arrests had been made around the world simultaneously; in the case of the US, it had been in the middle of the night.
“It’s over, Son,” my father said when I answered his call at four this morning.
“I need to be certain, Dad.”
“I understand. The brief is on its way to you.”
I’d read it again and again, pouring over every detail, making sure every question I’d had was answered. Only then did I ask Ink, one of the men who had been on my duty for the last month, to take me across the bay.
Rock approached when the car pulled up in front of her house. “They’re in the backyard,” he told me before opening the door to let me inside.
I stood and watched her from a window, and what I saw, broke my heart. Gone was my little spitfire, and in her place was a woman in pain. It was etched all over her face and in the way her shoulders drooped forward.
My hand was on the door to go out when I heard her cry out and saw she’d cut her finger. As if in slow motion, I watched Buck race over to her. When he led in her my direction, I went back into the living room.
I stood silently, waiting for her to notice me, hating that Buck’s arm was around her, until she finally raised her eyes and stared into mine.
“Cope?” she whispered. I saw her eyes roll back in her head and her knees buckle. I raced over and caught her in my arms even though Buck had been closer.
“She has a cut on her hand,” he said as I carried her over to the sofa and sat with her on my lap. I nodded, and Buck walked out the front door, closing it behind him.
“Ali, my love,” I murmured, brushing her hair from her face. When her eyes opened, I bent my head and kissed her. “Hi,” I said when her eyes filled with tears.
“Cope?” she repeated.
“I’m really here, Ali, and I’m so sorry.”
What began as a few tears, turned into sobs as we clung to each other.
“I’d hoped,” she whispered.
