20. Angel
Chapter twenty
Angel
After a quick goodbye to my family and their promise to assist us when the time comes, Daisy and I head up the walkway toward the cabins.
With my sister here and not yet married to Jaxon, everyone, including me, thought it was best for Faith and Daisy to share the smaller cabin.
Now that Daisy has kissed me and freed me from my promise, I can say without a doubt it was the right call.
I haven’t always been the “Angel” my mom believed me to be when it came to women, but with Daisy, I don’t want to mess anything up.
She’s the one, and I want our relationship to be blessed by God from beginning to end.
But the temptation is real, and I need to be as far away from it as I can while still close enough to protect her.
“It’s sweet that your brothers are going to watch Brad and keep us apprised of his movements,” Daisy says. “I’m sure they need to get back to work.”
“Family always comes first for the Conways,” I tell her.
Daisy stops and tugs at my shirt. “You say that so casually, like careers are disposable. Your brothers took time off to travel to Colombia to rescue Faith from the cartel only six months ago. Jordan was a new detective and still is by most standards. Taking more time off so soon could end his career before it gets off the ground, and Ben and Seth are in the same boat. Angel, we’re not still trapped in the mine, so there’s no reason for them to stick around now that you’ve been cleared by the doctor. ”
“Careers are disposable; family is not. What’s important to me is important to them, and vice versa.”
I pull Daisy close to my body and kiss her jawline until my lips are near her ear. The truth comes out in a soft hush. “You are important to me; therefore, you are important to them. And what’s important to you is important to me.”
It’s not a declaration of love; it’s too soon for that.
But I don’t want a day to go by that Daisy doesn’t know how much she means to me or that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to give us the chance at a future together.
In order to do that, we need to get rid of the noose she keeps around her neck, tethering her to a place she’s desperate to escape.
Footsteps on the front porch of Vinny’s cabin interrupt the moment. “Is this the result of a broken promise, or did my sister kiss you first, Angel?” Owen asks.
His stance is wide, and his arms are folded across his chest as he keeps one eyebrow raised while scrutinizing how close I am to Daisy.
“Stop pretending to be the overprotective brother. We both know that you’re a softy under the polished exterior you show everyone else.
You’re a closet romantic at heart, proven by the romance novels you keep hidden behind your books on guerrilla warfare tactics, counterterrorism, and survival techniques for the twenty-first century,” Daisy quips.
“It’s purely for research purposes,” Owen says in his defense.
“Research? For what?” I ask, laughing at the red slowly creeping up his neck. “Romance novels don’t depict real life, only a picture of what the perfect man should be.”
Owen walks down the steps toward us. “I’m not going to ask how you know that fact, Angel, but you’ve just proven my point. Can you think of a better way to get inside the mind of a woman than to read a romance novel written by one?”
It’s a valid argument I can’t refute. In fact, it’s kind of genius. Yet Owen is still single, so maybe his theory isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I say as much. “Then why are you still flying solo?”
Daisy doesn’t hesitate to take the opening, having figured out what I already suspected. “Does it have to do with Genesis?”
Owen’s head snaps up, and instantly his posture goes rigid. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Bennett,” Daisy and I say at the same time.
“Who is she?” Daisy asks. “Why haven’t you told me about her?”
Having heard his name, Bennett walks out onto the porch eating the breakfast burrito he picked up from the diner.
It was a quick in and out, but our interaction lasted long enough for me to know that I’m really starting to dislike the man.
Granted, I didn’t like him much before, but I like him even less now.
He’s the kind of guy who gives the CIA a bad name for the rest of us who are actually trying to make the world a better place.
To him, people are just a means to an end.
“Are you telling me that you didn’t tell your sister about the little impromptu wedding you had in Vegas five years ago?”
If laser beams could shoot from Owen’s eyes, Bennett would be a pile of ash. “The wedding was annulled,” Owen says. “I’m not married.”
“What wedding?” Daisy punches her brother in the arm, clearly perturbed that he never mentioned anything about getting hitched. Annulled or not, that’s something he should have told her.
Bennett shakes his head as if he’s disappointed with us, then says to Daisy, “Like I said, all secrets eventually come out in the open if given enough time. I can’t wait until Genesis’ secret comes out. It’s a doozy.”
“Why are you looking into my past, Bennett?” Owen asks. “How is it relevant to this mission?”
“It’s not, but if I had to wager a guess, it’s for the same reason I found this in my coat pocket.
” Bennett holds up the tracking device I planted before he left for Langley.
“There’s a lack of trust which I have not earned.
I’ll make a deal with you, Agent Zurkowski.
If you get your Director to call off the task force he’s creating to look into Dominion, then I’ll tell you where your wife was last seen.
Honestly, I’m surprised you never once tried to track her down. So much for true love.”
“You’re full of nothing but hot air, pompousness, and CIA bureaucracy,” Owen fires at him.
“You know as well as I do that I don’t have the power to stop the task force just because you have information you think I want.
I’m not even sure how you were aware that the task force was being formed in the first place. ”
I am. The CIA has Director Finnegan under surveillance, as they do the Directors of the NSA, DEA, DNI, DIA, and every other security agency known to man.
Then there’s the White House; you can’t throw a stone without hitting an undercover officer walking the halls and posing as a staffer.
Dirty laundry is better than gold in D.C.
“Then no deal? That’s a shame,” Bennett says without remorse. “You might not want to know where your wife is, but there are others looking for her. Oh! And last I heard, there’s a new man in her life. His name is Cyrus. Out with the old and in with the new, I suppose.”
Bennett takes another bite of his burrito and turns to go back inside, leaving the three of us alone.
Owen stares at the spot Bennett just vacated, his jaw locked and his body coiled tight.
The conversation that needs to happen isn’t any of my business, so I try to gracefully excuse myself. When I attempt to let go of Daisy’s hand, her grip tightens. “Angel, please stay. I may need you to hold me back when I throttle my brother for keeping something like this from me.”
For the first time since I’ve met him, Owen looks haunted; gone is the confidence he usually wears like a second skin. “It’s okay, Angel. I’d rather have you stay and listen to my confession than become a pincushion for whatever form of retribution Daisy has in store for me.”
I rub my thigh absentmindedly, well aware of what Daisy’s form of penance entails.
“Start from the beginning,” Daisy demands.
Owen nods. “I’ll give you the quick version. In 2005, the CIA had begun operations in Pakistan along the Afghanistan border. It was believed that high-profile Al-Qaeda members were crossing between the two countries and hiding in the smaller villages.”
Daisy interrupts him. “But you didn’t go to Afghanistan until 2010.”
“You said you wanted me to start from the beginning. Let me finish. As I was saying, during that time, the CIA used locals to provide intel, often paying them with goats, sheep, money, or the promise of something far greater. Zahid and Madiha Alam helped the CIA in exchange for U.S. citizenship for their fifteen-year-old daughter, Ibtida, which means ‘Genesis’ in Urdu.”
Owen walks over and rests his back against a tree, his chin hanging low.
“When I first started with the FBI, I was put in contact with a hacker by the name of VexPixie for intel gathering that might be of questionable legality. For years, we communicated through encrypted emails via Tor, private chat rooms on the dark web, and texts using the Signal app. If I couldn’t find the information I was looking for, then I’d reach out to her. She’s that good.”
He looks up at us, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he recalls the memory.
“Over time, we sort of developed a relationship through ones and zeros, using only our handles instead of our real names. For the record, mine is ByteBandit. When she hacked into my system to warn me about a terrorist cell she had discovered in the Las Vegas area, I didn’t hesitate to go straight to the Director and ask for the mission. ”
With a sigh, Owen continues the story. “We spent six months posing as an engaged couple and infiltrating a Pakistani organization called RAKAHN: Rah-e-Azadi, Khudmukhtari, Adl, Haq aur Nizam. Translated, it means The Path of Freedom, Autonomy, Justice, Truth, and Order. It was the only way they would accept me since I’m not of Persian origin.
Trust me, it wasn’t a hardship on my part to spend time with Gen.
She was, is, spunky, hard-headed, and quick with her quips.
She gives as good as she gets. Not to mention her beauty eclipses mine when she’s standing next to me. Can you believe that?”
There’s the Owen I’ve come to know; hurt or loneliness buried under egotistical bravado.
“I’d never connected with anyone like that before or since.”
Daisy snorts. “Is that why you decided to get married and not tell Mom or Dad? Or me, your sister who would have made a wonderful Best Woman to stand next to you?”
Owen pushes off the tree and walks over to Daisy, the wan smile disappearing completely.
“It wasn’t like that, and it wasn’t my finest moment.
After the raid, which took down leaders of the cell and put an end to a plotted terrorist attack, Gen and I went to the Strip and had more drinks than either of us should have had to celebrate.
She already had the engagement ring, and we stupidly thought that we should just make it official.
Things spiraled out of control, and one Elvis preacher later, we were officially husband and wife. ”
“I know what it’s like to feel an undeniable pull toward someone. It doesn’t just go away,” I say, drawing Daisy closer to me. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Owen. So what happened?”
“I had to go back to D.C., and Gen promised she’d meet me there.
Six weeks later, instead of her knocking on my door, I was getting served with annulment papers.
I tried to reach her on her phone, in the chat room we had, and even tracked down her aunt and uncle, but they hadn’t heard from her in two years.
I cloned their phones on the off chance she’d call them, but she didn’t.
Eventually, I signed the annulment she wanted, sent it back to the return address, and never once looked in the rearview mirror.
Until today, I assumed she handled it on her end. ”
Daisy lets go of my hand and hugs her brother. “You’re an idiot for not telling me. You’ve always been a rock I can lean on, and I’m supposed to be that for you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Owen’s arms band around his sister as he rests his chin on her head. “Like I said, it wasn’t my proudest moment.”
“Did you love her?” I ask.
“Yes,” Owen says without any hesitation.
“Then why didn’t you look for her harder? Why did you give up?” Daisy asks.
Owen chuckles, but it’s devoid of his usual humor. “She didn’t want me, Daisy. What started off as fake for me turned into something real. For Gen, it was fake from beginning to end. There was no reason to keep searching for someone who made it clear she didn’t want me.”
I clear my throat. “Can I ask how Bennett knows all this and you didn’t?”
Owen purses his lips. “Because the CIA owned Genesis from the moment she gained U.S. citizenship at the age of fifteen. They paid for her education, and in turn, she had to freelance for them off the books. They also threatened to leak information that her parents had helped capture key Al-Qaeda members, which would be a death sentence for them. One that was eventually carried out.”
“What do you mean? The CIA killed Gen’s parents?” Daisy asks, appalled.
I look toward the cabin door, where two CIA agents are on the other side.
Both operate in shades of gray, but Bennett’s shade is much darker than Vinny’s.
Even mine isn’t the pristine white I’d hoped it would be.
Then I think about the subterfuge, the decades of planning, and the lengths the CIA would go to get their way.
Turning toward Daisy, I answer her question. “They didn’t have to. All they had to do was whisper the word ‘traitor’ and let others do the dirty work for them.”
And with that, Owen’s hatred toward the CIA makes perfect sense. As I stand here, I can’t blame him one bit.