CIA Agent Aaron “Angel” Collins doesn’t take many things on faith. He trusts his gut, his eyes, and his husband, Jordan, an Army Captain. When his commanding officers deliver news of Jordan’s death, Aaron needs proof. The facts don’t add up, and Aaron must decide if he can trust Major General Troy Hart to assist in his quest to discover the truth.
Captain Jordan Collins is battered and disheartened in an Afghanistan prison, but definitely not dead, though he learns his own government believes he is. His only mission now is to stay alive and make it home to Angel, if he can find an ally among the enemy. But someone in the US government will stop at nothing to make sure he never leaves that prison, And Jordan must reevaluate the lines between friend and foe if he is ever to return to his Angel.
July 2013 Langley, Virginia
CIA Agent Aaron Collins pushed his shoulders together as he strode through the hallway to his supervisor Mick Keller’s office and rapped on the door. As if waiting for him, Keller swung it open. “Come in, Collins, come in. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thank you, sir,” Aaron replied, shifting in the hard wooden chair. His boss wrung his hands as he circled his large desk. “Is everything all right?” Clearly not, he answered himself.
Bosses tended not to call emergency meetings on a Friday to discuss the company’s upcoming Keller sat behind his desk and adjusted his glasses.
“I need you to brief Foster on the POW situation in Afghanistan. The two of you are switching cases.”
Aaron blinked. “My team and I have been working with the military on that mission for months. We’re three weeks from deployment.”
“Yes, Foster will assume your leadership role.”
“Foster? He’s a paper pusher!” Aaron exclaimed.
“Collins.” Keller’s voice held a warning.
Yeah, God forbid the agency admits the truth about the competence of their employees.
“Sir, he really is not qualified.”
“He will be once you brief him. We need you here, Collins,” Keller told him.
Aaron tilted his head to the side. “Why do you need a field agent here?”
“You’re one of our best,” Keller said.
“And… you’re afraid to send me because you have reason to doubt safety?” Aaron extrapolated.
“It is a rather volatile situation,” Keller hedged.
Of course it’s volatile! Fucking enemies have our men! “What aren’t you telling me?”
Keller shook his head. “It wasn’t my decision.”
“Well, whose decision was it? Have you thought of calling them an idiot?”
“Not all of us have your finesse,” Keller replied.
“I’ll be there, or you need to give me a reason that I can’t, beyond the stuffed shirt above you said so,” Aaron said.
Keller removed his glasses and massaged his eyes. “No, that’s all the reason either one of us require. Your job is here for the next four months.”
“I have the most information about this mission,” Aaron tried once more, but even as he spoke, he knew the battle was over.
“None of us know very much,” Keller responded with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
So am I. “Can I still get updates?”
“You know we can’t.” Keller paused, then added, “He’ll be all right, Collins.”
They weren’t talking about Foster’s competence anymore. Now Keller referred to Aaron’s husband, Jordan, an Army Captain also assigned to this mission. “Of course he will. I only wish I could help.”
“You’ll help by training Foster,” Keller replied.
Right. “Is there anything else, sir?” Aaron asked.
“No, you may go home.”
“Thank you.” Aaron stood, shook Keller’s hand, and walked out of the building after grabbing his messenger bag. Ducking into his car, Aaron leaned his head back on the seat. He dialed Jordan’s cell.
“Hey, Angel, you done already?” Jordan asked, the perkiness in his voice signaling that he did not get the same news today.
And like magic, the sound of Jordan’s nickname for him eroded the edges of Aaron’s own bad mood. “Yep, you?”
“Two beers in at home,” Jordan responded. “I’ve got dinner started.”
“See, now I think you’re vying to steal my nickname from me.” Aaron started the ignition and put his foot on the brake.
“Never happen. You okay?” Jordan asked.
“Uh… do we have anything stronger than beer, or should I stop?”
“Oh, boy.” Jordan’s tone grew serious. “We have whiskey, if that will do.”
Best you can get in the US. Aaron released a breath. “That’ll work. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Jordan ended the call and Aaron began the twenty minute trek home to Maryland.
To find out more about Liz Borino and her books visit her website