Amira sat in silence, contemplating every word Beth spoke, knowing the conviction behind them and the truth that underpinned them. She’s just a mom protecting her family. And remember, it was your actions in Sudan that started this chain of events. If anything, you pulled her into this, not the other way around. The pang of guilt she felt at that realization had been eating away at her. Had she not killed Asim and left Omar alive, none of this would’ve happened. I killed the wrong man. That was the truth. Based on what Nafisa had said about her husband just before she died, he hadn’t been like Omar. He wouldn’t have sought vengeance the way Omar had. He’d been a good man, even under the rebel disguise, and she’d killed him. So much pain and loss. Trevor had been right about one thing – the world never changed. The people, the missions, the deaths, they all changed, but not the struggle between the West and the rest of the world. It was endless.
“I believe you,” Amira said. “And I’m sorry you got pulled into this. It goes back to an operation I did in South Sudan before I ended up where I am now. But that’s all I can tell you. More importantly, I believe you when you say you did what you did to protect Alexa, and I can’t fault you for that. You’re not the first parent forced into a horrific situation, and you won’t be the last. That’s why you’re still breathing, because Alexa needs a mother, especially in this world.” The implication was clear – if she’d wanted, she could’ve killed Beth, and no one would’ve batted an eye. And Beth knew it.
Amira also knew that Beth’s ex-husband, a banker, had left when Alexa was one and moved to California to remarry a twenty-five-year-old spin instructor. It had been the worst form of a cliché imaginable for Beth when it had happened, and she’d dedicated herself to providing Alexa everything she needed.
“But there are no free passes, Beth. And I need you to understand and accept that. It looks like the Chinese may ultimately have been behind this attack, and if so, trust me when I tell you my friends and I will find out. But that fight is for another day.” She paused, like a judge about to render a sentence. “So here’s the deal, with the blessing of Director Tooney, a personal friend of mine: effectively immediately, you are no longer an employee of the CIA. Your badge access was revoked within minutes of your departure today. Additionally, you will never hold a position or a clearance in any government agency ever again. Your time as a federal employee is over, permanently.” Amira watched as each word struck her friend like a blow, causing Beth to wince as her sentence was read aloud. “Having said that, the agency will provide a reference for you if you need one in the future. You were an outstanding employee before this, but like I said, some things can’t be undone, and this is one of them. Do you understand everything I just told you, Beth?”
For Beth, the gates of her guilt broke apart, and a torrent of relief rushed through her. Tears formed in her eyes, and when she finally spoke, it was with sincere gratitude. “Thank you. And Amira, I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“So am I,” Amira said, and stood up, unscrewing the suppressor and holstering the pistol under her coat and placing the suppressor in a deep coat pocket, the need for the threat of violence over. “One last thing, Beth, the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars they gave you, we know about that.”
“I figured. It showed up in my account after they returned Alexa. I had no idea. They said it was to guarantee my silence because it made it look like I’d been paid off. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do with it.”
“Well, my suggestion is that you use it to raise Alexa. And if I were you, I’d go back to the Midwest, maybe use that Masters in Elementary Education and become a teacher. But regardless, your time in this world of ours is over.” She walked behind Beth and placed her left hand on her friend’s right shoulder. “You won’t ever see me again. Goodbye, Beth,” Amira said, squeezed her friend’s shoulder, and walked out of the town home into the cold December day.
She inhaled deeply, the smell of the crisp air intoxicating after the emotional goodbye inside. You did the right thing. You gave her a second chance, and she knows it. You have to let everything else go. You made a choice in Sudan, and you can’t take it back. You can learn from it and move forward, or you can let it pull you under, her father’s voice told her. But that’s not who you are, Princess. You’re a warrior, my Amira, her father’s love once again comforting her. I miss you, Daddy. I love you so much.
She pulled out her iPhone and called John. “It’s done.”
“Good,” he said, absent of his typical sarcasm. “Are you coming home?”
She smiled for no one to see. “You’re there, aren’t you?”
“You know it, babe,” John replied casually.
“Then that’s where home is. I love you, John Quick. I’ll see you soon,” and disconnected the phone.
The weather called for a snowstorm with more than eighteen inches, which would paralyze a city like Washington DC, which usually reacted chaotically over three to four inches. The upside was that she’d be socked in with John in their loft apartment in Fall’s Church, and the thought left her smiling as she walked to the black Ford Explorer.
The world would continue to wobble on its axis, violently at times, but she and John had each other, which was all
