With a Pull of a Trigger

Chapter Nineteen

The motion caught Samuel’s eye, and he watched as Reini tried to pick up the pieces on her own. He longed to reach for her, to comfort her in this great time of need, but he couldn’t.

While Reini was being prevented by her fear of showing weakness, Samuel was being prevented by his stupid, stubborn pride.

Greg looked at the brand new star on the wall, then at the other stars where the black paint had faded into varying shades of gray. He wondered if that was the way life worked. Was the pain they felt symbolized by the black paint of the stars? With time, the stars’ paint faded into gray. With time, would the pain they felt fade? Would it heal, with time?

Rose Kennedy once said, “It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.”

Was the saying true? Greg wondered, but he knew it would take time to figure out the answer.

Amrie watched Reini and Greg from the corner of her eyes. Losing an agent was hard; to lose a friend, worse.

Tiffany looked at the star, her eyes watery, praying for the woman she used to know. She bowed her head, closed her eyes, steeled her resolve, and started to walk away quietly.

Christian looked at the stars, then bowed his head in respect. He walked away, his footfalls a staccato rhythm.

Joshua looked at Greg who was standing beside him, took his hand in his, and squeezed it, letting him know how much Joshua cared. Greg looked up and smiled softly at Joshua, depending on his eyes to convey how much he appreciated his concern. Joshua smiled back before letting go, walking away.

Samuel took one last look at the stars, then at Reini, and closed his eyes. A vivid picture formed in his mind, one of a star being carved in Reini’s honor, and he opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath. He shook his head and walked away.

Amrie crossed her arms, bowing her head. She suddenly felt so cold that her suit jacket couldn’t preserve the little warmth she felt. Eena was a respectable agent, one of the best, and to lose her was a great blow to the CIA defense system. Eena was a loyal friend, one of the greatest, and to lose her was a great blow to Reini and Greg, not to mention many others.

Amrie remembered being all bloody, watching the life drain out of Denise’s eyes. She remembered coming back to the CIA headquarters, remembered the anguish Aldrin had felt.

She remembered it all, and in hindsight, she should have known something was up when they didn’t carve a star in Denise’s honor.

Bowing her head, Amrie offered a silent prayer, and walked away.

Catherine sighed. She had seen Amrie, known that she was thinking about Denise. She had seen Samuel, known that he was thinking about Reini.

She remembered the day Aldrin went to her office and demanded to know why a star wasn’t carved in Denise’s honor on the CIA Memorial Wall. She remembered how he had been so grief-stricken, how it had taken two Cell Twelve agents to restrain him and keep him from throwing every breakable thing in Catherine’s office. Aldrin had screamed, had sobbed, had cursed, had sworn to every god that he was going to avenge his sister’s death, and Catherine had done nothing.

Catherine looked at the star before Eena’s.

It was a star in memory of the late director, Senior Agent Everett Hadwell.

Like Eena, there wasn’t even a body to bury in his case. There was only a star on the wall, memories of his helpful advice and kind smiles. He was passionate about his work, and continued to be so until the day he retired.