He sighed. He’d always known this day would come. He had put it off, again and again, and now he was forced to come clean at the worst possible moment. “You’re right,” he said, pulling a chair out for her. “I think it’s time we had a conversation. One that we should have had a long time ago.”
She sat down, her weary expression now mixed with confusion and apprehension. He pulled up a chair in front of her, and Jenny sat a few feet away. He began.
“For over ten years, Alex, I was a spy for the CIA.”
She gaped at him, speechless, looking bewildered and unsure. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then said, “What? Dad, that’s ridiculous. I know you deal in antique cars. I’ve met people you work with. I even came with you to Los Angeles once, remember?”
“That wasn’t a lie. For many years, it’s been my real, honest-to-God job. But before that, it was only a side job. My cover.”
“For your career as—as a spy?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“What does that even mean?” she asked. “Being a spy. I mean, like in the movies? I’m trying hard not to assume anything. I’d rather hear it from you.”
“I was in Black Ops,” he explained. “I ran missions that officially never happened. Dangerous missions.”
“You mean like . . . assassinations?” She spoke carefully, looking down.
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “Among other things.”
“I see,” she said.
“Look, Alex . . .“
“Sorry, Dad, this is just a bit much, all right? I mean, suddenly you’re telling me that you’ve been lying to me my entire life? I mean, this is about who you are! You’re what’s wrong with the world . . . You, personally, represent what’s wrong with the way we deal with the rest of the world! I mean, I knew what your politics were, Dad, but I didn’t know you were at the heart of everything I’m against! Just how am I supposed to react to that?”
“I’m your father,” he said. “I love you, and I have always wanted the best for you. That has never been a lie. That’s stronger than politics. It’s stronger than anything.”
“But you’ve killed people! How am I supposed to live with that?”
Morgan took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I can tell you to make you accept it. All I can do is try to make you understand. I did this work because it was the right thing to do. There are evil, dangerous people out there, Alex. People who look for ways to harm Americans. People who would destroy our government and kill our citizens. I know this sounds vague and distant, but I saw it up close. It’s real. They’re real, and this country needs people like me to keep them at bay.
“I know you believe that everything is going to be fine if we all just try to get along,” he continued, “but this isn’t Sesame Street. I’ve been there; I’ve seen things; and, trust me, sweetie, things just don’t work that way. And even if you don’t believe me, if you can’t see why, I still don’t regret anything I’ve done, because I know it made the world a safer place for you to grow up in.”
Alex sobbed quietly and said, through her tears, “I don’t even know you, Daddy.”
“Alex . . .” he said, reaching a hand out to her. “It’s still me. I’m still your father.”
“No,” she said, recoiling, and she stood up. “I can’t just accept that. It’s not that simple.” She grabbed her coat.
“Where are you going?” Morgan asked.
“I just . . . I need to be away from here right now.” She turned and walked out of the cabin, slamming the door.
“You could have said something,” Morgan said to Jenny, sadly, without bitterness.
“You did well,” Jenny reassured him. She laid her hands on his shoulders and stroked him tenderly. “It’s just a lot to lay on her. Let her go be angry, blow off some steam. This can’t be easy for her. I know it wasn’t easy for me, either. She needs this time. Let her have it.”
“What makes you so sure she’ll come around?”
“Because you’re her father. You’re more important to her than any political cause.”
“I hope you’re right.” He sighed.
Jenny sat down in Alex’s chair, across from Morgan. “Dan, I know Alex wasn’t ready for this, but I need to know what happened. Why are people after us?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Morgan told her everything that had happened since Plante knocked on their door. She winced at every turn where he might have died had it not been for a stroke of luck or a split-second decision. She demanded that he show her the wound in his side and gasped when she saw it. As he told her about Plante, with her gentle touch she removed the bandages, cleaned away the dried-up blood, carefully placed fresh gauze from their first-aid kit over his sutures, and wrapped the bandages around his torso.