“Stop right where you are!” Tracy ordered, lining her pistol sights on him. “Stop or I will shoot!”
Sepehr took another step, and as he did so, he brought his left hand out from behind his back, bringing up a small black pistol. Tracy squeezed the trigger of her SIG Sauer twice, the bullets entering the terrorist’s chest and making him collapse against the hood of the truck. He tried to raise the pistol, and Tracy fired once more, this one carving into his neck. Sepehr al-Kharzi slid to the ground.
Tracy holstered her pistol. “No, but an American woman killed you, you psychotic fuck.” She took a deep breath and walked back to the truck, spotting lights from the rest of the Border Patrol in the distance. Opening the passenger’s door, she picked up the phone and flipped it over.
“Stephanie? It’s Tracy. I’m afraid you’re not gonna like this.”
Tracy sat on a park bench, watching Jennifer play on the wooden equipment. Paul played with her for several minutes, until she joined a larger group of children on a merry-go-round. Then he let her run off, and walked back to Tracy. But every few seconds, Jennifer looked over, making sure she was still there.
Her return flight had touched back down in D.C. two days earlier, but Tracy still wasn’t used to being back. The humid dampness seemed oppressive after the dry, hot desert, and the buildings and corridors of power no longer held the same interest for her. Even as she watched Jennifer laugh and run and play in the summer sunshine, even as she smiled and waved back at her near stepchild, her mind was more than a thousand miles away, at an abandoned barn in the middle of the Texas plains.
“Tracy?”
With a start, she realized that Paul stood next to her and had said something. “I’m sorry, Paul, I was— distracted.”
“Yeah, much like you’ve been ever since you returned.
Look, I know you asked me not to pry but…is there anything you wanted to talk about? Anything at all?”
Tracy looked at Paul, secure and comfortable in his short-sleeved shirt and L.L. Bean chinos, with leather deck shoes on his feet.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Paul.” Tracy stared at Jennifer, her blond hair flashing in the sun, and tried to imprint the image in her mind, to take with her when she began her journey. “I resigned from DHS today.”
Paul’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “What? When did you decide this? Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
She turned to him, about to retort, but simply smiled sadly. “Because it wasn’t your decision to make—it was mine.” She left out the part about Gilliam blocking her requested transfer to the Border Patrol, telling her she was far more valuable back in D.C. He had made vague noises about the transfer to Virginia, but she saw, with startling clarity, that he was never going to let her go. She had pulled out the second piece of paper from a folder and placed it on his desk and walked out.
“This is great! Let me make some calls, and I’ll see about getting you an interview. I’m sure my company will snap you right up—what?”
Tracy had laid her hand on his arm, halting his plans for their future in midsentence. “Thanks, Paul, I appreciate your offer, but I’m not interested in pursuing a career with Globeview. In fact, I’m not interested in pursuing a career in Washington at all.”
His brows dipped into a frown. “Not in Washington?
What do you mean? Are you thinking of heading to Langley, joining the Agency?”
“No, Paul. I want to go back down to Texas, to the border. I want to work there and try to help find a solution to what’s happening there.”
Paul stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar as he tried to fathom what she had just said.
“Okay, let’s talk about this.You mean temporarily, right?”
“I’m afraid not, Paul. I’m thinking about staying there for several years. The situation there isn’t going to change overnight. It’s going to take committed people who are willing to stick around and get the job done.”
“Jesus, you’re really serious about this. So, where does that leave us?”
“I…don’t know. This is my choice, and I can’t ask you both to pick up everything and move there with me. That’s not fair to you. But this is something I feel that I have to do. I’ve enjoyed my time with Homeland Security, but I always felt like I was sort of spinning my wheels and not getting anywhere, bogged down in the bureaucracy. Those people on the border are trying to accomplish something, and I want to be a part of it.”
“Tracy, excuse me for being blunt, but you actually want to patrol the wasteland of the border and get shot at and save people who just want to sponge off our nation? I’ve been to those border towns—it’s like stepping back in time. If you want to accomplish something, at least take a look at Globeview. They can station you around the world if you want to travel, and place you just about anywhere—even Mexico, if that’s what you really want. But you’d have more flexibility in your schedule, be making a hell of a lot more money and, most importantly, we’d still be able to be together, as well.”
“That’s sweet, Paul, but you were already worried enough about me when I was in Texas. How would you feel if I took a two-year assignment in Mexico City, or the Philippines or in Colombia where women get kidnapped all the time?”
“GSS provides the best protection money can buy— you’d be safe at all times. They take care of their people really well.”
“And also insulate them from the men and women that need help the most. That’s not how things get done.”
“What are you talking about? That’s the only way things get done, by going to the top, by talking to the people who make the decisions in government, in politics. That’s the only way to change anything down there or anywhere else.”
Tracy smiled again, unsurprised by her fiance’s naivete.
“The only problem with that is those people tend to let the power they wield go to their heads, and spend too much time trying to extend or protect it, all at the expense of the people they’re supposed to be serving. No, Paul, my mind is made up.You and I have different ideas of how to get things done.
I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines and watching other people take the risks. I want to get in the game.”
Paul ran a hand through his hair. “And there’s no reason you can’t do that at Globeview.”
Tracy slipped her hand into her purse and brought out the engagement ring Paul had given to her eighteen months ago, and which she’d taken off on the flight down to El Paso and hadn’t put back on since. She held it out to him.
“I’m sorry.”
Paul stared at it, seeing all of their shared plans and dreams disappear through the circle of gold. “There’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”
“Only if you wanted to chuck it all and come with me.”
Her bright smile was forced, but she pasted it on nonetheless.
Paul met her gaze for several seconds, truly thinking it over, and Tracy found that she loved him even more for that. But then he dropped his head and looked back out over the playground. “I can’t. I can’t uproot Jennifer from school, her friends, to haul her halfway across the country.
The divorce was hard enough on her, I couldn’t subject her to that, not now.”
Tracy placed the ring in his hand and folded his fingers over it. “Your daughter is strong, Paul, just like you raised her to be. I love you, and I love her, as well, but this just isn’t the place for me right now.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. You go away on one field assignment, and you come back and want to go traips-ing around down there like you’ve found your life’s calling.”
“Who knows, Paul? Maybe I have.” Tracy stood. “I’m going to say goodbye to Jennifer.”
“Maybe that’s not the best idea—”
“No, Paul, it is. For her, and for me.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, then lightly on the lips. His face had grown paler in the past few minutes, as if he had been drained of all his emotions. He sat on the bench, a shell of a man. “I’m sorry, I truly am.”
“Not half as sorry as I am.” He looked up at her with a rueful grin.
