Page 127 of Lucky Charm
Quaid sat on the sofa and waited, eyes on Hunt’s face. “Lay it on me.”
“We took out IQS.”
“I heard.”
“Drone strike.”
“I heard that, too. Your team.”
“Yeah. The boy was with him. Cait had guessed the kid was IQS’s son from the first.”
“He’s dead then. He was with his father.”
“Yes, but there’s more. No proof, but I think it’s possible the boy killed Reid, then his mother.”
Quaid swallowed hard, then leaned his head to the back of the sofa and shut his eyes.
“We have no idea why they were with Reid.” Hunt held any other comments to give Quaid time to absorb the information.
“I might know why. Later in the letter, he talks about them being a family. If I know him at all, he made a pass at the kid’s mother.”
“And if she belonged to IQS, the kid would recognize that. He would consider it a transgression that needed attention. We suspected that, honestly. I knew this was messy, but…” Hunt dropped the letter on the coffee table.
“Read the rest of it.”
He didn’t want to. He was sick of this subject, sick of the twists and turns the whole thing had taken. But for Quaid he continued. His friend was torn apart. It showed in his face.
I’m not a good man anymore. Maybe I never have been. I’m lusting after sweet Kaamisha, did everything necessary to stop you from interfering in my quest to save this woman, and I screwed my mission and my country to do it.
Hunt looked over the edge of the letter. “He’s not thinking clearly, is he?”
Quaid stayed with his eyes shut. “No. Not at all.”
Hunt contemplated for a minute that there were those who thought he’d done the same, and hadn’t he said as much? That he’d get out if they wouldn’t let him go with Cait? Being able to relate to the man didn’t help, though.
Honestly, why people live here is beyond me. These mountains with their windy goat trails and their tribal ways can suck the life out of a body. Right now, I’d kill for crappy convenience store coffee – hot, strong, and bitter – and a copy of The New York Times to read.
Anyway, I took advantage when the kid was hurt by Haquiri’s men and called in the doctor. Then I did everything possible to stay off your radar when I saw you with the special operations team. I didn’t know they’d go after you so hard, but I used it to get her and the boy out. I thought I was doing right by them.
Some might consider my plan to turn my back on my job, my life, my responsibilities as conduct unbecoming. The CIA will hunt me and quietly finishme off. I’m past caring about rules or the identification of the many people I managed to capture digitally.
None of that matters.
For once I have a higher purpose. Kaamisha and Shahmeer.
For once I might not get tortured within an inch of my life.
I might get to be the white knight. Like you.
The kid’s name was Shahmeer. That would be something for the intelligence geeks to check. Hunt reached for his own coffee and swallowed the remaining bits in three gulps.
“You two have a competitive relationship?” Hunt looked at the last few paragraphs without reading, then glanced at Quaid.
“I thought we were friends. We were competitive in some ways, but thick like thieves in others. Later, my grandfather’s money separated us. He’s always worried his wealth will lead to kidnapping. Even in the military and CIA, I got routed in another direction. Frustrates me.”
“Maybe time to do something else,” Hunt advised, quietly.
“Maybe.”
