Page 30 of The Only Reason (The Trident Trilogy 2)

Chapter Fourteen

Virginia Beach, Virginia

July 27, 2011

The second Mack walked into his office, George knew his day was going to get complicated. In the two years George had been the CIA liaison to the SEAL teams in Virginia Beach, Mack hadn’t said two words to him—much less actively sought him out. But now Mack was sitting across the desk—his massive arms crossed rigidly in front of him.

“Mack,” George said cautiously, “is there something I can do for you?’

Mack didn’t say anything. He just sat there—his eyes fixed on George in a cold, unblinking stare. George began to shift uncomfortably in his chair.

“Mack,” he tried again, “is there something wrong?”

“I need to disappear for a while,” Mack said gruffly.

George’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Disappear. You know what disappear means. Don’t you do stuff like that? The agency. Can’t you make people disappear?”

George slowly reached for his phone. “Maybe we should get Chase in here. I think your team leader should be involved in this conversation.”

“Put the phone down or you’re going to lose that hand.”

George dropped the phone immediately. Mack’s face had turned from merely serious to downright deadly.

“Let’s back up,” George said slowly. “Why do you need to disappear?’

“Do you know who Sayid Custovic is?”

“Of course I know who he is, Mack. He’s one of the most-wanted terrorists in the world.”

“He’s also my daughter’s uncle.”

George froze. “What do you mean he’s your daughter’s uncle?” he said carefully.

“Uncle. Do you not know what that means either?” Mack pushed his arms aggressively across George’s desk. “I hooked up with a Bosnian woman when we were deployed there in the nineties. Her name was Nejra Custovic. She was Sayid’s sister. She had my baby. After she died, I got the baby. My daughter is Sayid’s niece. You understand now?”

George tried to loosen his grip on the arms of his chair. “Mack. What are you talking about? This sounds crazy. Are you sure? Does anyone else know?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Only a few people know. A few of Nejra’s friends and family helped me get Millie out of Bosnia. I’m not going to go into how all that happened, but no one has ever tried to contact me or her in the sixteen years since I took her—until last night.” Mack slammed his back against his chair, causing it to crash noisily into the wall.

“What happened last night?” George started shifting in his chair again.

“I had a visitor. One of Nejra’s friends from Bosnia. He told me Sayid’s lieutenant, Yusef Hadzic, was looking for me—for Millie.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s not involved in anything illegal. He came here just to warn me.”

George took an extended breath and exhaled it forcefully through his mouth. “Mack. I’m not sure what you want me to do here. The agency doesn’t really hide U.S. citizens. That’s more of an FBI thing. And then it’s really only for federal witnesses.”

“Do you know who Azayiz Custovic is? The agency has her in protective custody in Pakistan. She’s Millie’s aunt. She sent the friend to me last night. Ask her if I’m telling you the truth.”

George’s eyes widened as he pushed his chair away from the desk. “Who told you we have Azayiz Custovic in protective custody? You’re wading into really dangerous waters right now. I think maybe you should quit talking.”

“Call your bosses. Tell them what I said. Tell them I know about Azayiz. The only thing that matters to me right now is protecting Millie. I will die to protect her. Or disappear. Or go to jail. Whatever it takes. I need for you to help me get them off Millie’s trail.”

George stood up. “I need to share this with my boss. If what you’ve said is true, we have a very delicate situation on our hands. I’m assuming you didn’t ask permission before you took your daughter out of Bosnia. And that’s just our first problem. The other bigger problem, of course, is that this now involves one of our most valuable informants. This is a lot to process. And we’re wheels up to Iraq in a few days. You need to give me at least a week. I’ll have to get back to you.”

Mack walked over to George until he was standing inches from his face. “You have a day. Twenty-four hours. Figure it out. You have no idea what I will do to protect my daughter. I’ll take down this entire operation if I have to—and you with it. One day.”

As Mack slammed the door behind him, George quickly called his supervisor in DC. “Paul. We’ve got a big problem. It involves Azayiz Custovic. And we’ve only got a day to fix it.”

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