The Only Reason: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book Two) Read online

  George stood up. “I need to share this with my boss. If what you’ve said is true, we have a very delicate situation on our hands. I’m assuming you didn’t ask permission before you took your daughter out of Bosnia. And that’s just our first problem. The other bigger problem, of course, is that this now involves one of our most valuable informants. This is a lot to process. And we’re wheels up to Iraq in a few days. You need to give me at least a week. I’ll have to get back to you.”

  Mack walked over to George until he was standing inches from his face. “You have a day. Twenty-four hours. Figure it out. You have no idea what I will do to protect my daughter. I’ll take down this entire operation if I have to—and you with it. One day.”

  As Mack slammed the door behind him, George quickly called his supervisor in DC. “Paul. We’ve got a big problem. It involves Azayiz Custovic. And we’ve only got a day to fix it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Millie

  Washington, D.C.

  2020

  “Is your boyfriend hiding behind the door, waiting to attack me?” George says as I motion him into my hotel room.

  “Nope.”

  He takes a small, slow step in—his eyes darting around the room.

  “Are you going to come in?” I let the door fall against him as I walk over to the table. “Or do you want to meet in the hallway?”

  “I find it very suspicious you didn’t want to meet at the office,” he says as he finally walks in. “But fine.”

  He’s abruptly cut off by Chase slamming him against the wall. “Hi, George,” Chase says in a menacing tone I’ve never heard from him before. “Long time, buddy.”

  George whips his head around to look at me—equal amounts of betrayal and anger shooting from his eyes.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, glaring back at him. “And technically, he wasn’t hiding behind the door.”

  George looks back at Chase. “I can explain.”

  “Doubtful.” Chase flings him across the room toward the table. “Sit.”

  George reluctantly sits opposite of me. “I guess she told you,” he says without looking at me.

  “That you told her Mack was still alive. Yeah. She definitely told me that.”

  “I believe I asked you not to tell anyone,” George says as he slowly turns to me.

  “I don’t work for you anymore. I don’t work for the agency. I’ll tell anyone anything.”

  “That’s dangerous talk, Millie,” George says carefully.

  Chase comes over and kicks George’s chair. “Your problem isn’t with her. It’s with me. And things are about to turn real dangerous if you don’t start talking right now.”

  George shakes his head as he looks up at the ceiling. “I could get fired for this. Or worse.”

  “Believe me, the agency is the least of your worries,” Chase growls. “Talk. Why did you tell her Mack is still alive?”

  “I didn’t tell her Mack was still alive,” George says slowly.

  “Bullshit!” Chase kicks his chair again.

  George looks at me. “I didn’t tell you he was still alive. I said there was a possibility. I don’t know if he’s alive.”

  “Enough with the semantics. Why do you think he wasn’t killed that day in Iraq? You were in the control center when it happened. You saw the building go up. What makes you think he survived that?”

  George looks down at his feet and whispers, “A tunnel. He escaped through a tunnel.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Chase walks aggressively across the room.

  “Mack asked me not to tell you,” George says. “I wanted to. Actually, let me be crystal clear. He demanded I not tell you. He threatened me. You know how he was. I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “He asked you not to tell me what?” Chase says sharply.

  “That he wanted to disappear. That he was afraid Millie’s life was in danger and he wanted to fake his own death to protect her.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re claiming Mack came to you and asked you to help him disappear,” Chase says. “That’s insane. Mack would never do that.”

  “He did it. He came to my office. Told me he had been approached by a friend of Millie’s mother. The friend told him Yusef Hadzic was looking for Millie to use her as bait to pull Azayiz Custovic out of hiding.” George takes a deep breath and turns to look out the window. “And we did it.”

  “He never would have done that without telling me. Never,” Chase says.

  “If he told you, would you have helped him?” George looks at the expression on Chase’s face. “Exactly. That’s why he didn’t tell you. You never would have agreed to it.”

  “I never would have agreed to it because it’s the craziest, stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. And I still don’t think Mack asked you to do shit for him. You’re making this up so Millie will think he’s alive, and it will give her incentive to come back to the agency. And that really does make me want to kill you.”

  George shrinks back in his chair as Chase walks toward him again.

  “Prove it,” I blurt out.

  “What?” George looks from Chase back to me.

  “Prove it. If you helped my dad disappear, prove it. Where is he? Surely the agency has kept in touch with him. I mean you supposedly helped a Navy SEAL fake his own death and put him in hiding. Prove it. Tell us where he is.”

  George stares at me for a minute and then looks back up at the ceiling—shaking his head.

  “When Mack left my office that day, I called my supervisor in DC immediately. After I told him what was happening, he told me he would call me back. He called me back in less than five minutes and told me he was handling it from that point forward. He told me to keep my mouth shut and continue on as if nothing had happened. The next day, I saw Mack being pulled into a meeting with navy brass.”

  “I saw that, too,” Chase says. “Mack told me it was about his retirement.”

  “C’mon, Chase. How many SEALs get that level of brass to attend their retirement meeting?” George turns briefly to look at me. I think he senses I’m starting to put all the pieces together.

  “I thought it was because he was the first one of us from that mission to retire. Maybe it required extra safety protocols or something,” Chase says, shaking his head. I can tell he’s starting to figure it out, too.

  “Did the brass come in for your retirement? You were the team leader. You knew more than anyone. Did they come in for you?”

  Chase sits on the bed. “What happened next?” he says, looking down.

  George continues. “The next thing I heard from my boss was a couple days later when we’re headed to Iraq. He told me to brief your team on the raid where Mack died, or more accurately, where he disappeared. The information I gave you on the village that day was fake. There were no insurgents anywhere close to that area. I told my boss that it was false information. He told me again to keep my mouth shut and give the information to you. When the building blew and you started receiving fire, I didn’t know any of that was going to happen. But the way it went down—with everything that had just happened with Mack—I knew immediately when you called in his death that there was more to the story.”

  “I remember the enemy fire wasn’t hitting that close to us that day. I just thought they were bad shots,” Chase says. “And they were all shooting from one area. They had the high ground on us. If they would have fanned out, we would have been sitting ducks. I always thought we got lucky.”

  “I’m assuming we were running that enemy fire to get you to call for an evacuation, so you wouldn’t poke around the house looking for Mack’s remains. I don’t know, though. I was told to stay in my lane, and I did. I didn’t ask any questions after it happened. All I know is that I was given a promotion soon after that and moved to DC.” George looks back at
me. “I put it behind me until five years later when the CIA director came to my office personally and told me that Mack’s daughter just completed training at Langley. He said she was being assigned to me and that I had two directives regarding her: Keep her away from Sayid Custovic’s network and don’t tell her anything about my association with Mack.”

  I feel like I’m going to pass out. I put my head in my hands to try to stop the spinning.

  “George, how could you keep this from me?” I ask without looking up. “All these years. You know how much my dad’s death devastated me. You thought there was some chance he was alive and you didn’t even mention it to me?”

  “Millie, I’m sorry, but this isn’t personal. If there’s one thing you know about me, it’s that I’m a company man. I was told what to do, and I did it. I’m not a free spirit like you. I do what I’m told. I wish you weren’t finding this out at all because it’s getting your hopes up again. I really don’t know if he’s alive. When Azayiz went missing, the director told me to get you back in the fold. You wouldn’t come back, so he told me to tell you that your dad might still be alive and that Azayiz would know.”

  “So is that a lie?” I look up at him. “That my dad is alive?”

  “I really don’t know, Millie. I suspect we helped him disappear that day. I suspect Azayiz had some involvement in it. But beyond that, I don’t know.”

  “Mills.” Chase squats down in front of my chair and takes my hands. “Let’s just go home. It’s not worth it. It’s been nine years. Even if he was alive that day, he’s probably not now. He would have contacted you. Or me. Let’s just go home.”

  I look at him for a minute and then turn to George. “I want to meet with the director.”

  “Millie,” George says quietly.

  “No, George. If you want me to go to Pakistan, I meet with him first. If not, Chase and I will go home.”

  “I don’t know that I can make that happen.” George stands up and looks at Chase for permission before he starts walking to the door.

  “That’s up to you—to the agency—but if you want me back in, I talk to the director. Final word.”

  George nods as he walks out the door. “I’ll call you later today.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Millie

  Washington, D.C.

  2020

  “He’s not coming with us,” Ted says, pointing at Chase.

  The agency director granted my request for a meeting about an hour after George left my room. George’s driver, Ted, arrived at our hotel soon after to take me to the meeting.

  Chase puts his arm around my shoulders protectively.

  “I’m not going without him, Ted. And this time, I don’t think you’re going to be able to force me into the car,” I say, smiling at him.

  “My instructions are to bring you—just you,” he says, eyeing Chase. Ted’s a tough guy, but from the drawn look on his face, I don’t think he wants any part of Chase. Probably a smart decision. Chase’s anger level has been steadily rising since we left San Diego. Finally, Ted nods his head and motions us toward the car. Chase pulls me back and looks in the car before I get in. Seeing that there’s no one already in there, he helps me in—blocking me from taking Ted’s outstretched hand.

  As Ted closes the door, Chase says, “I’m going all the way to the director’s office with you.”

  “Shh,” I whisper, pointing to the speakers behind our heads. Every agency car is equipped with them. The microphones inside can supposedly be turned off at the rider’s request. I’ve always assumed they’re on and someone’s listening. Frankly, I’d be disappointed if they weren’t spying on their own people. Every agent I know keeps more from their bosses than they tell them. We ride in silence the rest of the way.

  One of the director’s assistants meets us at the car. I make it clear to him that Chase is coming with me wherever I go. He vehemently disagrees. We finally negotiate that Chase can come to the outer area of the director’s office, but not inside. They must really be desperate to find Azayiz because no one has this kind of negotiating power in the agency. I keep asking, and much to my surprise, they keep saying yes. It’s all making me very suspicious.

  “Wait here,” the assistant says to Chase as we get off the elevator on the executive level.

  Chase looks from him to me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m good,” I say, patting him on the arm.

  We go through a series of doors that lead to the director’s office. The assistant nods at the final level of security. They open the door for me. I look back at the assistant, who motions me in without him. I walk into the massive office slowly.

  “I knew you were going to be an inconvenience one day.” I hear a man’s voice coming from the far corner of the room. I look over and see Paul Ward, the agency’s director, sitting in a chair against the wall. He motions me to take the chair opposite him.

  “Is that what I am? An inconvenience?” I say as I’m walking over to him. “I’m sorry if me putting an end to the Custovic network—after you tried to do it unsuccessfully for nearly two decades—was an inconvenience.”

  He stares at me with an amused look in his eyes. “Actually, we prefer our agents don’t get kidnapped in the pursuit of our goals.”

  “Means to an end,” I say as I sit down. “They’re dead, aren’t they? A simple thank-you would suffice.”

  He shakes his head as a smile starts forming at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you’re as arrogant as your dad. That’s for sure.”

  “Thank you. Now can the small talk end? Is my dad alive?”

  His smile flatlines. He stares at me for a good minute. I don’t think he blinks once.

  Finally he says, “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?”

  “Tell me what you do know.”

  “You don’t have the clearance for it and you know that.”

  “Look, how important is Azayiz to you? And how necessary am I in the mission to retrieve her? That’s what it boils down to. If you want me to help get her, I need answers first.”

  “Retrieving her is of vital importance,” he says, pausing for a second. “And the agent in charge is convinced that dangling you out as bait is the best way to do that. I would rather you not be involved, but here we are.”

  “Then start talking.”

  “Show some respect, Agent Marsh.”

  “Respect works both ways, Director Ward.”

  He glares at me. I return it right back to him. No one says anything for an uncomfortably long time.

  “This doesn’t leave this room,” he commands. “If you tell anyone—including your little bodyguard out in the lobby—I will lock you up and leave you there. Do you understand?”

  I nod. He takes a deep breath and stares at me for another few seconds before he starts in.

  “As you might know from your pursuit of him, Yusef Hadzic had ties to Al Qaeda. He wanted to merge your uncle’s network with them. Your uncle Sayid apparently didn’t want that. He had no problem working with them, but he wanted to retain his autonomy. Sayid and Yusef had a power struggle for years. Yusef had a slight advantage with his Al Qaeda alliance. When we took out UBL, Yusef’s advantage disappeared immediately. We didn’t know any of this until after they died. Sayid kept extensive journals. The operators recovered them on the day they rescued you.”

  He pauses to pour himself a cup of coffee. He motions to the cup in front of me. I shake my head. The last thing I need right now is more stimulation. My head is already buzzing. He takes a long sip of coffee and continues.

  “Azayiz’s son, Fareed, was part of the network, too. He was a strong supporter of Sayid, but didn’t have much love for Yusef. He was passing information to his mother about the network. Most of it seemed targeted at taking Yusef out of the equation, although we didn’t fully understand that until recently.
I believe George told you Azayiz was instrumental in the tip that led us to find bin Laden’s courier. That information came from Fareed. We now think Sayid wanted that information passed to us. When UBL died, it stripped Yusef of all his power. Yusef was pissed as you can imagine. He couldn’t touch Fareed without dying himself, so he set his sights on Azayiz. Fareed found out and told her. That’s when we rushed her into hiding. The amount of information that woman knows is staggering. If our enemies get her, it would be devastating to our operations in that region. Frankly, right now, the best-case scenario is that they find her and kill her immediately.”

  “Okay. So I understand why she’s so valuable, but what does this have to do with my dad?” I say. “He’s the only reason I’m here.”

  “I was in charge of Middle Eastern operations in 2011 when this all went down. Azayiz was my responsibility. That day—when George called me and told me what your dad said—I saw my entire operation falling apart. One of our special forces guys had a daughter whose uncle was Sayid Custovic. It doesn’t get any worse than that. And then factor in that your dad was one of the operators on the bin Laden mission, and he knows we have Azayiz in hiding, and he’s threatening to expose all of that if we don’t help him go into hiding. It was the worst-case scenario. No offense, but my life would have been a whole lot easier if you had never been born.”

  “No offense taken. I could probably say the same about you.”

  “Bottom line, I told Azayiz about your dad’s request to go into hiding. She told me she had initiated it. Frankly, I wanted to kill both of them. All of this to protect one girl. It pissed me off. But unfortunately, I couldn’t kill anyone, so I made a deal with them. We would help your dad fake his death, but then we were out. He only had to agree to never surface again. And to never enter back into this country. I worked out the deal with the agency and the navy. We eliminated him from naval records and took away his passport. As far as we were concerned, he was dead.”