Page 159 of Whisper
Darren, his deputy, and three of the SAD officers from Carl’s security team.
He flew with their ghosts for twenty-six hours. The cabin was as silent as death, and for a time, Kris wished the plane would just plunge into the ocean, disappear, take him down to the depths. He should be dead, heshouldbe, and there was no logic, no reason to his continued heartbeat. His lungs continuing to inhale and exhale. He didn’t want to be alive.
The plane had landed smoothly at Andrews Air Force Base and taxied to the private corner of the airfield reserved for the CIA. Hearses were waiting, and a smattering of dark SUVs.
Kris spotted George and Director Edwards waiting by the hearses.
When the plane finally parked, no one came and opened the jet door. He was left locked inside the jet as the coffins were unloaded one by one by an honor guard and carried to the hearses.
Director Edwards and George bowed their heads as the coffins passed, closed their eyes. When the last was loaded, they climbed into their SUV and the convoy drove off.
Only then did the pilot open the door for him. Lower the stairs.
He got the message, loud and clear. He was to blame, and everyone—everyone—knew it. He was going to suffer for this. He was going to be made to wear his stripes of shame for the whole world to see. He was the pariah, forced away, kept back from everyone else in case his tainted fall from grace infected them, too.
He dragged his duffels down the stairs. David’s felt like a thousand pounds, like the weight would break his spine. He kept his head down, blood red eyes fixed on the metal stairs, the dark asphalt.
“Kris…”
At the bottom, waiting by the very last SUV, was Dan.
He was pale, his eyes almost as red as Kris’s, and tears ran down his face, dripped from his jawline. His lips quivered, pressed together. “Kris, I am so sorry…”
Kris couldn’t speak. He dropped everything and ran to Dan, threw his arms around his friend. Dan grabbed him, squeezed him until he thought his chest would pop, and buried his face in Kris’s neck. “I’m so sorry,” he kept saying. “So sorry, Kris.”
He hadn’t thought he could cry again. He’d thought he’d used a lifetime of tears. He thought his heart was gone, incinerated, nothing but ash. He thought he’d be alone forever, however long the rest of his life was. Hours, perhaps. Maybe days. Until it was all over, finally.
But Dan was there, holding him up. His tears soaked Kris’s shirt, his skin, and his hands squeezed Kris’s arms. Dan wasthere. For the moment, at least, he wasn’t alone.
“Let me take you home,” Dan finally said. His voice shook. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Numb, he let Dan load his duffel into the SUV. He kept an ironclad grip on David’s. It was all he had left of his husband. Dirty clothes, a paperback he’d tried to read, a notebook of doodles. His wedding ring, clasped tightly in Kris’s hand, that he always took off and left with Kris whenever he went outside the wire or over the border.
This duffel was the only coffin he’d ever have.
“Take me to his grave,” he whispered. “I need to see.”
“Are you sure?”
“I have to see it.”
Dan drove him to Arlington National Cemetery, not saying a word. The middle of the day, and traffic was light. Pedestrians smiled and laughed as they walked along the streets of DC.
It felt like two different worlds, inside and outside the car. Everyone else lived in some alternate reality where there were still good things in the world, while Kris was left in the darkness.
They parked near the new burials, and Kris spotted the fresh mound of earth, the uneven patches of new sod laid over a recent burial. Saw the crescent moon carved into the marble headstone above the wordsStaff Sergeant David Haddad.
A dark-skinned woman in a headscarf kneeled at the grave. Her shoes were to one side and she faced east, crossing David’s grave. Her cheeks were wet, but she held her hands open in front of her chest, her lips moving silently.
“It’s his mom.” Kris stared. “She didn’t believe him when he told her we were together.”
“What do you want me to do? Want me to leave?”
“She’s my mother-in-law. I should…” He shook his head. “We both loved him. We should mourn together.”
“I’ll wait here.”
Kris palmed David’s ring and slid from the car. He’d carried David’s ring all the way from Kabul, holding it between his hands like a prayer on the long flight.
