On top of what he’d already done to protect her, he didn’t have to prove himself anymore and wasn’t going to try. At this point she either trusted him fully or she didn’t.
Briar rubbed a hand over the side of her jaw. “I’ve done a lot of ops overseas, mostly in the Middle East and Central and South America, because of my language skills. I met Jerry in Syria about a year ago.”
The guy who’d died in Boulder.
She hesitated a moment before continuing. “He told me there was a rumor floating around about American weapons being sold to the rebels and other terrorist organizations in the region. As long as groups were fighting against the regime and would pay the money, the arms found their way into their hands. I looked into it briefly, but never found enough to confirm it was actually true. I reported it to Janaia, who passed it on to her boss.”
She stopped walking, turned to face him across the room and put her hands on her hips, her expression hard. “I was told there wasn’t enough evidence to pursue it, and since it wasn’t my problem, I let it drop. But Jerry brought it up again when I saw him the other night. He said he thought there was a massive cover-up happening, because whoever had set up the weapons deals didn’t want the world to know the U.S. was arming terror groups.”
A prickle of alarm touched him. “Did anyone follow you to that meeting?”
“No.” She shook her head, adamant. “I was careful.”
“Could Jerry have been wearing a wire?”
“Doubtful, given what we talked about. He was scared enough just meeting me. And if the killer wanted me dead too, then why not target me along with Jerry? Easier to get us both when we were leaving the bar, rather than try to take us out separately afterward.”
“Because they didn’t want to seem too obvious. And the agency knew you were going after Ramadi, so they wanted to wait until after you took him out.” Bastards. Letting her do the hard part, then turning on her once she’d served her purpose.
A muscle in her jaw flexed. “Yeah. What Georgia said about the hit list makes sense. Whoever’s orchestrating this whole thing wants to wipe their slate clean. My gut says it has to do with the arms deals.”
“What about the other asset, the guy in Baton Rouge? Did he know about any of this?”
“We never talked about it, but it’s possible he knew about it. The group he was involved with operated along the Lebanon-Syria border and in Iraq. If he didn’t know the details about the weapons, someone in his circle would have.” She shrugged. “It’s the only connection I can think of that makes any sense.”
Matt resisted the urge to rake a hand through his hair. This shit was whacked and way more complex than he’d ever imagined.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked him softly.
“No.” She was many things, but crazy wasn’t one of them. “If someone at the agency was pulling that kind of shit behind the scenes, then it makes sense they’d want to cover it up at all costs. Including taking out anyone you might have talked to about it, and anyone else who might have figured out what was going on.”
“Janaia was just doing her job,” she said angrily, hands curling into fists at her sides. As he stared at her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Her voice cracked on the last word and she bit her bottom lip, blinking as she looked away quickly.
Matt closed the distance between them in three strides. Briar looked up at him, the pain clear in her beautiful dark eyes, now wet with tears. That she was letting him see her with her guard down told him everything he needed to know and he couldn’t stand to see her hurting like this.
Without a word he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She was stiff initially, but as he curved his body around her and pressed her face to his chest with a hand on the back of her head, she wound her arms around his ribs and held on tight.
Matt rested his chin on the top of her head, not saying anything. Her shoulders shook in a silent sob, then another, and he wished she’d just let go. The way she struggled to hold back her tears and catch her breath was more heartbreaking than if she’d wept openly. He knew how strong she was, how strong she’d had to be to become the woman in his arms, but he needed her to know she didn’t have to prove anything to him.
“Don’t stop it,” he murmured against her hair, squeezing her tighter, more relieved than he’d ever admit when she didn’t push away. He understood what that kind of raw grief felt like, wished he could do something to dull it for her. But if she continued to hold it inside the pain would eventually cause her to explode. “It’s just me. It’s okay to let it go.”