Act of Treason

1

Irene Ke

This should have been on Ke

The motorcade of presidential candidate Josh Alexander had been hit by a car bomb. Alexander and his ru

An al-Qaeda splinter group had released a statement the week before the attack that they were going to disrupt the American elections. In the immediate aftermath of the explosion, Ke

Despite twenty-three years of service, Ke

Ke

There was an upside to all of this. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. At forty-five, she’d given twenty-three years of her life to the CIA. She had a beautiful ten-year-old son whom she didn’t get to spend enough time with. Soon he would enter that stage where he would want nothing to do with her. This premature departure from the Agency would give her a chance to spend more time with him. It was no secret in Washington that she was on her way out. She’d already received two offers from local universities to teach, three from think tanks, and another from a private security firm. That was without lifting a finger. She tried to stay positive. Tried to tell herself they were great options, but in the end nothing else would match the mission and the people she worked with. That was what bothered her most.

There was a knock on the door and then it opened. Ke

“Sorry I’m late,” said the hulking six-foot-four FBI special agent. “People in this town lose their minds when it snows.”

“It’s a good thing it’s a Saturday.”

McMahon was holding a large briefcase. He crossed the room and kissed Ke

“So what’s this all about? Have you finally decided to a

Ke

“Since when do I drink tea?”

She poured him a cup of coffee while McMahon sat on the couch. He kept the briefcase close. Ke

The FBI man gestured with his hands and said, “I half expected you to have all of your stuff boxed up and ready to go.”

Ke

“Fu

“The photo of the Arab women in black. Is that Saudi Arabia?”

“No. Yemen.”

“Why do you have it in a frame?”

“It’s a reminder of the subjugation of women in the Arab culture.”

McMahon nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Ke

“What?” asked McMahon.

“It’s not a reminder of the subjugation of Arab women. It’s actually a team of Delta Force commandos who were on their way to say hello to an individual who, let’s just say, wasn’t playing by the rules.”

“You’re shitting me?” McMahon stood up so he could examine the photo more closely. “Who were they going after?”