considered this award for some time. Although the circumstances that had resulted in the conference of the medal were sealed, Naomi recognized immediately that Kealey must carry a fair degree of influence within the Agency as a result of his actions. She had noticed earlier, with some surprise, that he was on a first-name basis with Deputy Director Harper. Perhaps this also explained why Ryan was not attached to the CTC; certainly, they would have eagerly recruited him given the opportunity.
The file also recorded his activities before joining the Agency. Kealey had left the U.S. Army as a major in 2001 under pressure from Special Forces Command. Naomi took that to mean the Joint Chiefs of Staff, whose approval would have been needed in order to indict a soldier with Ryan Kealey’s background. The 201 military record cited numerous awards: the Distinguished Service Cross, the Legion of Merit with one Oak Leaf Cluster, the Bronze Star with two Oak Leaf Clusters—the list went on and on. Kharmai knew little about military decorations, but was aware that this man would be held in high esteem by anyone wearing the uniform.
Naomi could see that he was educated as well, holding a bachelor’s of science in business administration from the University of Chicago. His graduate degree had been awarded by Duke University in 1994. By that time, Kealey was already a first lieutenant fresh out of Special Forces Assessment and Selection, soon to be followed by successful completion of the Q course at Fort Bragg.
Unbelievable, she thought. He had achieved the rank of major in eight years, and that time included two years attached to another unit, the 1st SFOD-D, which she did not recognize. That was phenomenal advancement. The man was obviously being groomed for high command. She wondered what Ryan Kealey could have done to derail such a successful career.
She had a sudden insight and flipped open the file to the last page, looking for the signatory: MG Peter Hale, USASFC. With or without Harper’s authority, Naomi Kharmai decided she would find a way to talk with Kealey’s last commanding officer.
It was fast approaching dark when Ryan finally returned to Cape Elizabeth two days later. There was little reason to wait around in Washington while the analysts did their work, so Harper had given him a brief reprieve. Katie had not answered her phone for the duration of the trip, so he couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive when he saw her little car parked outside the house.
The interior was almost as cold as the air outside. He went directly into the living room, where he proceeded to carefully stack wood in the immense stone fireplace. It wasn’t long before the fire began to spread a pleasant warmth throughout the house. He turned to find Katie leaning against the doorjamb wearing tight jeans, a loose woolen sweater, and a look of consternation. She was watching him quietly. It seemed to Ryan that the temperature of the room had suddenly dropped again. Judging from the scowl on her face, he wasn’t about to receive a warm welcome home.
“Hey,” he said, after a brief, awkward silence. “I missed you.”
“I can tell, the way you rushed in here to talk to me.”
He lifted his hands in a gesture of exasperation. “I called you. It was a last-minute thing. Why didn’t you answer?”
She was momentarily caught off guard. That’s a good question, she thought. “You know why! I can’t believe you just took off like that. It’s…I don’t know, it’s like you forgot I was even here.”
A look of pain came over his face. “Katie, you know that’s not true. And it’s not fair.”
“Did you lie to me?”
“About what?”
The scowl became a skeptical glare. Clearly she wasn’t buying it. “About leaving, Ryan. Did you really retire last year?”
“Of course I did.” Her arms were crossed, her expression doubtful. “Katie, I would never mislead you like that.”
She looked into his face for a long moment, gauging his sincerity. “If you left the Agency,” she said slowly, “why were you in such a hurry to get back to Washington?”
It was a fair question to which he didn’t have an answer. She had won a small victory, but it didn’t register in her unhappy features. When she spoke again, it was clear from her tone of voice that she was already tired of arguing.
“You know, I’m scared to ask where I rank in all of this. Is it below the CIA? Below a bunch of crazy terrorists in some shitty third-world country?”
“It’s not a question of rank, Katie.”
She smiled sadly and lowered her glistening eyes. “That’s a terrible answer, Ryan.”
He dropped his own head and silently cursed himself for the stupid remark. God, he had never been good at this kind of thing. It had cost him more than one good relationship over the years. It had never bothered him much before, but Katie meant more to him than the rest of them combined, and his chest tightened when he suddenly realized that he might be losing her. When she finally filled the silence, he was surprised by the intensity of the relief that he felt.
“Look, I know what you do is important,” she said in a small voice. “I would never say otherwise. I don’t try to make you talk about it—that can be separate from us. I’m not sure if I can deal with that yet, but I’m willing to try.”
She looked up at him hopefully. “That’s the important thing, right? That we’re both here and willing. I just want to know where I stand in this thing we have going. Where we stand.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking.” A slight hesitation, the following words no less meaningful for it. “I don’t think you know how important you are to me, Katie…In fact, I’m sure of it.”
She desperately tried to hold on to her anger, but it was already slipping away. A small smile spread over her face. “Do you mean that?”
He held out his hand. She walked over to him, and they hugged gently at first, Kealey finding her lips with his. Then he pulled her closer, and suddenly they were holding each other tighter than was necessary, for reasons neither could explain. Ryan speaking quietly into her ear, “You’re all I need, Katie. You and me, in this place, is all I could ever ask for.”
With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, arms wrapped around him, Katie wondered how she could have been so angry in the first place. She knew what he was trying to say, and for some reason it didn’t matter that he couldn’t get the words out.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
About 28 kilometers south of Jableh on the Syrian coast, a casual observer would have noticed many things about the scenic beauty of the surrounding landscape. He would have likely described the orange sun high in the dying light of day, the fiery red sky contrasting sharply with the sparkling water of the Mediterranean. The gently sloping hills leading down to the water’s edge would have been mentioned, as would the unpaved road slicing its way through the heavily wooded contours of the land. A description might well have been provided of the only building visible for many kilometers, a low-slung villa with whitewashed walls and a roof of Spanish tile that seemed to burn in the sunset. The observer would not, however, have been able to detect any sign of human life in the picturesque scene.
Beneath a heavy canopy of towering pine trees interspersed with the occasional oak, a figure lay perfectly still in the shade and the dirt. Captain Ryan Kealey listened attentively to the environment around him, waiting patiently for communication from the other members of his ODA over an encrypted radio. Glancing to his rear, he was pleased to see no sign of the five other soldiers.
“Sapper Six, Gold One, over.”
Kealey lifted his Motorola radio and spoke quietly, careful to avoid the staccato sounds of a whisper. “Sapper Six, give me your sit rep, Gold One.”
“In position, no targets visible at this time. I’ve got eyes on Blue Two on my left, over.”
“Keep me updated, Gold One. Six, out.”
Without looking