He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “I can do four months.” He paused. “Maybe.”
“We can make it. Once I get out, we can take things slow.”
“I think we’re going to make an awesome team.”
“It won’t be perfect every day. I’m still me. Stubborn, opinionated, sad that I can’t change the decisions I made in high school . . . and too insecure for my own good.”
“And I’m . . . well . . . I’m . . . I can’t think of anything.” He shot her a teasing grin and she punched him in the bicep. Then he sobered. “I’m not perfect either. I’m a lot of those things you listed. And more. Your high school days are gone. The decisions you made back then don’t have to define your future. I won’t let them define it.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, “but if you’re sure, we’ll make it work. Together.”
“Which brings us back to that whole rest-of-our-days thing.”
She smiled. “So it does.”
“Only if you want to.”
“Oh, I want to. I want to, Gavin. More than anything.”
“Thank God.” He lowered his head and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sent up a silent prayer of agreement.
CHAPTER
ONE
JULY
KABUL, AFGHANISTAN
The watcher sat in the noisy café, attention focused on the mother and two boys across the street. The father had stepped to the side to speak on his phone while the woman purchased two treats from the vendor. She gave them to the children, who eagerly dug in.
While the sun beat down and the asphalt shimmered, the watcher tuned into the eldest son. He was probably fifteen or sixteen, the youngest no older than nine. Two bodyguards stayed close by, their gazes roaming, hands on their weapons.
Fascinated by the protective way the older boy hovered over the younger, the watcher rose to discreetly follow the small family a short distance as an idea formed. An idea that had been germinating for the past two months even while the means to carry out the plan had been elusive. Now, the plan took root, shaping and growing by the minute.
The father led the way down the street calling to his sons. He didn’t speak to his wife, but he didn’t need to. She knew her place. The watcher’s attention returned to the man. He seemed so familiar. Why? Had their paths crossed somewhere?
A hand landed on the watcher’s shoulder. “Hey, where’re you going?” Tom Bright stopped her progress, coffee in hand. “I almost didn’t spot you.”
“I saw someone and wanted to get a better look.”
“Who? Here you go.” Tom handed over a cup of strong, black coffee. The perfect way to drink it.
“Thanks. Do you know that man?” The watcher gave a subtle tip of the head in the direction of the man who was back on the phone. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”
“Yeah, that’s Musa Barakat. He’s the one on the news lately. The one who’s calling for the end of the country as the people know it and running for president. In 2018, over two million people turned out for the election—638,000 people in Kabul alone. This year promises to be a record turnout.”
“How do you even know that stuff?”
“I read. You should try it sometime.”
“Ha-ha. But yeah, I’ve heard all about him. He wants the country to be a democracy like the United States and he’s making a lot of enemies because of it, right?” You couldn’t turn around in the street without hearing about the radical who was causing such chaos every time he opened his mouth. “That’s him, huh?”
“Yeah. Hence the predictions of record-breaking voting.”
“Looks like he’s pretty tight with his family.”
“According to reports I’ve read, they mean everything to him. And you know how fathers feel about their sons in this culture.”
“I see.” The idea that had begun to form while observing Musa Barakat and his family continued to grow. “Do you think he’d be willing to answer some questions?”
“Like what?”
“About his politics. You know my dream is to be a journalist. I can’t pass this opportunity up. Let’s follow him and see if he’ll talk to us.”
“A journalist? Since when?”
The watcher shot Tom a narrow look. “Since forever, but I never thought I had what it takes to do that. After thse past few months, I’m going to try some new things.”