Steve's Journal after the Dissident Artist Case
Had to call one of Joe’s contacts in Nicaragua today for a case we were working on. I met him once, back on a SEAL mission. Nice guy, dedicated to the job. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, just contacted his people.
While we were waiting for confirmation on the intel I needed, he mentioned that he’d heard Cath had broken up a Libyan arms deal and had won some serious respect from her superiors. I was surprised to hear her name come up, but not that she was in Libya. Part of me wanted to be there with her. I know she doesn’t need my protection, but I think I’ll always want to make sure she's safe. I kept it casual on the phone, told the guy that was good to hear. I really wanted to ask questions, though, to know more about what the mission was and if there had been any casualties. Had she been injured at all? Where was she now? But I knew if I asked the answers wouldn’t be good enough and I’d want to contact her and see for myself. I can’t do that. Not right now. So I hung up and tried to focus on my case, using the intel I'd gotten to find the dissident and bring her in. I feel bad I was a little short with Jerry when he was trying to load the link we'd gotten, but it wasn’t about him. It was about wanting to be in my office, tracking down Cath to talk to her. Listen to her laugh. Make sure she was good. I got it together, though, and stayed late arranging asylum for the Nicaraguan woman and her grandma. If I couldn’t make sure Cath was safe, I’d make sure I’d do what I could for someone who needed my help. Okay, yeah, I took out my phone a thousand times and thought hard about getting in touch, but in the end I never dialed. As soon as I could I took an extra long swim, pounding the surf until I was tired enough to lock away any worries I have for Cath into the corner of my mind. It took a lot longer than usual.
I put on my blue shirt afterward. It helps me feel close to her since it was one of her favorites of mine to wear. Sometimes I think I can even smell her shampoo scent on my collar.
I miss her.