Chase and she had seen each other maybe a dozen times now. She called the shots. She sent him an email with a time and location. Lisa knew when he would be able to get time off without even having to ask him. Usually they met at a Dubai hotel. They’d chat a little over dinner and drinks and spend the rest of their time in bed. The relationship filled a need for each of them, but they also kept up an abnormally strong set of boundaries.
Chase hadn’t told anyone that he was seeing her. And he was certain that she had done the same. They never spoke about their past, beyond surface-level stuff. It was intentional on her part, he was pretty sure. And he was taking his cues from her. If she wanted anything more than this, he was pretty sure that she would let him know. The problem was, the more they saw of each other, the more emotionally attached he got. He had no idea where this was going, if anywhere. But he didn’t want to blow it by saying something that he shouldn’t.
Now, in the car on the way to see Elliot, he presumed, he wanted to ask her how she had been. He wanted to ask her a lot of things. He stole glances at her out of the corner of his eye, so as not to appear too eager. He had thought about her a lot when he was in Iraq. They had exchanged a few emails, but it had been very superficial. He felt a bit used, but he didn’t want it to stop.
“Where are we headed?”
She glanced at him and then looked forward, taking a sharp turn. “To see Elliot.”
“I know. Where?”
She didn’t reply.
This was a typical response from the Political Action Group agents. They saw themselves as the real CIA agents. The cloak-and-dagger types that clinked martini glasses with foreign dignitaries and picked up envelopes at dead drops. To them, Chase was one of the other types. The machine-gun-toting men that had a reputation for being less cerebral and therefore only needed to know enough to pull the trigger at the right time.
Chase was in his second year as a member of the CIA’s Special Operations Group. Together, the PAG and SOG formed the two halves of the Special Activities Division. While many jobs in the military and intelligence machine were mundane office jobs, the Special Activities Division was where the action was… at least, in the CIA. SOG was considered the paramilitary wing.
Plucked from the most elite units of the military, members of SOG were selected because they were smart, capable, and deadly. In his opinion, they needed to know every bit of information that the “regular” spies knew. Yet members of Lisa’s community ran the CIA. They were promoted faster and higher. It was the way things were. As a PAG agent, Lisa was a member of this superior “master race” within the CIA’s organization.
Chase wasn’t too worried about his promotion potential within the CIA. He wasn’t looking to make GS-15, and he didn’t want to deal with the bullshit that the executives dealt with. Just look what was happening to his father. He was a scapegoat for the politicians in Washington. Chase preferred to serve his country well, and without public reward.
The other card that Chase had in his back pocket was that he was still a reserve officer in the US Navy. He was in his second year with the CIA now, and hadn’t done much with the reserves. But in another month, he was scheduled to start actively drilling with SEAL Team Eighteen, the reserve unit that he had joined up with. While that wasn’t going to be a vacation, to say the least, it would be a nice change from the culture of the CIA.
Lisa drove across the bridge onto the Palm Jumeirah Island.
In 2001, the land that they were now driving on had been nothing but water. But eight years of dredging and construction had produced an island in the shape of a giant palm, with 320 miles of coastline, twenty-eight hotels, and thousands of luxury residences. Each leaf on the palm tree had rows and rows of extravagant housing, restaurants, resorts, and shopping.
Lisa sped down the main street that encircled the island. Chase watched a monorail glide by on a concrete structure above them. Everywhere Chase turned, there were rows of identical palm trees, expensive cars, and luxury residential properties. The wealth here was incredible.
Lisa took a sharp right turn and drove down a ramp and into a two-car garage beneath one of the townhomes. The garage door shut behind them. For a moment, they were alone in the quiet darkness.
She touched his cheek and leaned close to him. “It’s good to see you again.”
He whispered, “You too.” He looked into her eyes, but made no move to get closer.
A trace of her sweet perfume found its way into his nostrils. It reminded him of the last time they were together. His heart beat a bit faster as she closed in. Her lips grazed his ear as she whispered into it. “Perhaps tonight we could get a drink after work?”
She moved back and looked into his eyes, waiting for his answer.
“I’d like that.”
The smallest of smiles, and then she left the car and headed into the residence. He followed. Entering the home, Chase saw that the dwelling had been set up as a listening post. All of the windows and doors were covered. There were interior rooms with soundproof walls, digital security locks, and enough electronics to service any surveillance requirement that the CIA and other agencies they were working with might have.
Elliot sat on a worn leather couch, watching what looked like a live video feed of a sizeable hotel conference room. He stood up as Lisa and Chase approached.
Elliot shook his hand. “Thanks for coming out.” Chase looked around the room. There were several people with ear sets on, typing into laptop computers. Lisa stood next to them, a curious expression on her face. Chase began to wonder if Elliot had told her why he was here.
“Lisa, we’ll be just a few minutes.”
She had taken the headscarf down and let it hang around her neck. She raised her eyebrows and said, “Of course. I’ll be right here.” She didn’t look like she was too keen on being left out of the conversation.
Elliot walked down the hall and opened a door. The room was bare save for a lone table and four chairs. It could have served as a secure conference room. Or an interrogation room. Chase entered and took a seat at a small wooden table. Elliot closed the door behind them.
Chase said, “You haven’t told Lisa Parker what I’m doing here?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I intend to, once the counterespionage guys clear her. But there’s protocol to follow and I cannot be too careful.” He clasped his hands together, his elbows on the table. “Alright, fill me in on everything.”
Chase recapped his conversation with Waleed, and let Elliot know about Pakvar. When they were finished, Elliot looked upset. He pulled out his phone and typed a few keystrokes. He held up the screen and Chase saw a face.
Chase said, “That’s Pakvar?”
Elliot nodded. “I received a report that he was in Dubai earlier today. This guy is bad news, Chase. I don’t want him anywhere near our man. We need that data. If they launch this bitcoin-backed currency and we aren’t able to get transaction information, we’re essentially going to have a growing financial black market out there that we can’t monitor or control.”
Chase nodded. “We need to talk to Gorji, as well. I met with his assistant. The one that came to see you at the consulate.”
“Already? When did you meet with him?”
“Earlier today. I sent you a text.”
He looked down at his phone. “Ah. I guess you did. Sorry, things are crazy here right now.” He shook his head. “There’s just a lot going on. Did you find out why he wanted to meet with you?”