Free Eden in Winter by Richard North Patterson

double agent, placing him at risk to save Teddy: another thing he could not say.
    ‘And so,’ Charlie was observing in measured tones, ‘your survival, and that of others, depends on a very complicated series of calculations and deceptions.’
    The statement gave Adam a leaden feeling. ‘I’ve arranged my life into boxes,’ he acknowledged. ‘Each box contains certain people, situations, experiences, and emotions, carefully arranged so that no box touches any other box, placing me or others in danger. I’ve even got boxes for Martha’s Vineyard: for Carla; for each member of my family; for the D.A.; for this tarantula of a tabloid reporter. For what I believe are good reasons, I’m deceiving every one of them in different ways – letting them believe things that aren’t true, and withholding things that are – all because I’m trying to protect my brother, mother, father, and Carla from each other, as well as to protect myself. But Afghanistan is worse – betrayal comes in many guises, any one of which can kill you.’
    Charlie frowned. ‘A hard life to lead, Adam. It seems you’ve lost the habit of feeling safe, or even the ability to know who you’re safe with.’
    ‘Also true,’ Adam replied with a trace of irony. ‘Though I seem to be suited for the work. When I went into special ops, they put me through a battery of psychological tests. To everyone’s great pleasure, I came out as able to tolerate a high degree of risk and stress without cracking up, and being unusually unconcerned with my own safety.’
    Charlie considered him over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘In psychological terms, what do you suppose that means?’
    ‘I don’t know. I just know that’s who I became once I leftthis island.’ He paused, disconcerted by the admission he was about to make. ‘In the last three years, I’d thought I’d proved to myself I can live with pretty much anything. But since Ben died, and I came back here, I’ve been having these nightmares. That’s why I called you.’
    Charlie smiled a little. ‘I think there are many reasons why you called me, all of which are closing in on you. But tell me about these nightmares.’
    For a time, Adam gazed out a Menemsha Pond on a perfect August day, the sky clear blue, a steady breeze propelling trim sailing crafts across spacious waters bounded by woods and meadows. It seemed so alien from the life he led that the scene, once so evocative of his youth on the water, now struck him as surreal. The coffee felt sour in his empty stomach. ‘Both dreams take place in Afghanistan,’ he said at length. ‘In one, I’m next to a cliff, surrounded by Taliban fighters who are about to execute me. My only escape is to jump off the edge. But when I do that, I realize I’m falling toward the beach behind our house, where Ben died on the rocks.’
    ‘And the other?’
    ‘I’m driving my truck when I hit an I.E.D. concealed in a dirt road near the Pakistani border. Suddenly, I’m outside myself, looking at my own dead body by the side of the road. I know that my life is over, cut short in a way that lacks any meaning. But my head is that of Benjamin Blaine the last time I ever saw him.’
    Charlie looked at him keenly. ‘So, in both of them, at the moment of your death you become the man you believed to be your father. What does that raise for you?’
    Adam shrugged. ‘You’re the shrink, Charlie. You tell me.’
    Charlie shook his head in demurral. ‘I don’t know enough to do that. So anything I’d say is a guess. Obviously, Ben Blaine is central to both dreams. For reasons we’ve yet to fully explore, your break with him was traumatic. I could posit that you couldn’t overcome that trauma simply by leaving. If so, I suppose the dream could imply a visceral need to kill him – not only literally, but in your heart and mind.
    ‘But there are other ways to look at this. The dream could symbolize your deep entwinement with your supposed father, and your