Page 9 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

“Four months? Millie.” George stops shifting and puts his face in his hands.

“Yes, four months. And, in that time, she’s observed random men, always different men, handing Petrovic burner phones. They stop him on the street, hand him the phone, and walk away. The phone rings almost immediately. Petrovic talks on the phone for about five minutes, and then throws it away. This has happened at least nine times in the past four months.”

George looks up at me, grimacing. “Yeah, I mean, that’s suspicious, but he could be a drug runner. Maybe it’s his mistress. None of that proves he’s talking to Custovic. Has the agent gotten close enough to hear the conversations?”

“No, but she’s picked up most of the phones. She’s pinged the numbers that call him. They always hit in the Afghanistan mountains. Different areas, but always up near the Hindu Kush. That’s where Custovic set up shop after the war.”

George sits up straight. I know I have him now.

“George, there’s no one in those tribal areas except the true believers. Even if he’s not talking to Custovic, he’s up to something. Maybe it’s the reason he moved back to Bosnia after twenty years. It’s something. And, I think it’s something big.”

George thinks for a few minutes. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

“I still don’t believe Custovic is alive, but I do agree that Petrovic’s behavior is suspicious. It wouldn’t hurt for us to pick him up and question him,” he says slowly, wheels still spinning. “I will make this happen for you on one condition: that you don’t mention Sayid Custovic’s name to anyone. This is just an op to pick up Petrovic, and find out what he’s up to.”

“Agreed.”

“I’ll set the wheels in motion for a SEAL team to pick him up. You’ll need to go down to Virginia Beach to brief them.”

Just the mention of Virginia Beach makes me want to throw up. In the eight years since my dad died, I’ve learned to steel myself by burying my emotions. I haven’t even let them get close to the surface in years. Just thinking about going back to Virginia Beach is sending emotional shockwaves through my body. I have to keep the emotions buried, but I can feel them getting stronger, just waiting for the most inopportune time to explode.

“Do I have to work with a SEAL team?” I say cautiously.

“Why? Do you just want to grab Petrovic by yourself?” George says sarcastically, but I know he’s more than half worried I might really think that’s a possibility.

“I know I can’t get him myself, George. It’s just. . . you know what I mean.” George is one of the only people in the agency, in my life, that knows my dad was a SEAL, and that he died on a mission.

“Millie, your dad was one of them. You of all people should know what these guys do, and how well they do it.”

“He never really talked to me about what he did. I was totally separate from that part of his life. Until. . .” My eyes start welling up. Damn it. I look at my feet. You’d think after eight years, it would get easier. But it never does.

“Until he was killed?” George says softly.

“Yeah. That was the first time I’d ever been around any of them. And, I didn’t want to be around them. I wanted to forget everything about what they did to him.”

“Millie, they didn’t do anything to him. At most, they kept him alive way longer than he probably should have lived. These guys don’t exactly have long life expectancies.”

“Just going back there. . .,” I say, pausing to try to stop the tear that wants to escape my left eye. “Did I ever tell you Virginia Beach was the last place I saw him? At that base.”

George squints his eyes which he only does when he’s getting concerned. I straighten up quickly. I don’t want him to send someone else to do this. It has to be me. There is no other choice. If this is going to end the way I think it’s going to end, it has to be me.

“Do you want me to have Raine take this one? She already works with the teams.”

“No, definitely not,” I say quickly. “This is my op.”

“Look, I know how strong you are, Millie. You’re a rock. It will be hard to be back there, but just go in, do your job, and get back to D.C. where you belong.”

I knew I didn’t have any other choice.

“Agreed.”

“And, again, no talking to them or anyone about Custovic. This is just an op for Petrovic.”

I nod and start to walk out.

“Oh and, Millie, you’re still a pain in my ass. I haven’t told you that recently, but I want to make sure you know your status hasn’t changed.”

“Agreed,” I say, smiling at him as I close his office door.

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