Free Blowback by Valerie Plame Page A

didn’t immediately recognize Yassi Farah.
    Then she did—an older, weary Yassi.
    Vanessa shot the COS a pointed look. After hesitating, Hamm nodded. “If you need me, I’ll be outside,” he said, leaving the women alone with each other.
    â€œI’m so glad you made it safely,” Vanessa said, assessing even as she moved to greet Yassi. But she stopped when a wide-eyed child peeked out from behind Yassi’s back. Vanessa knelt down. “You must be Zari.”
    The child didn’t smile or respond, and she disappeared again, a tiny rabbit ducking to safety.
    â€œShe won’t let go of me,” Yassi said wearily.
    And now the two women touched cheeks, but it was a greeting without warmth, without real emotion.
    Vanessa found herself hoping to see a glimmer of outrage and defiance, the spark she’d seen often in Yassi’s eyes. “You must be hungry, and I have—”
    â€œI need a cup of very black tea with lots of honey,” Yassi said.
    â€œWe have coffee, if you’d prefer it.”
    â€œTea is better.” Yassi pressed a hand to her belly.
    â€œI just have to heat the water.” Vanessa switched on the gas flame beneath the already filled kettle and then she gestured to the chairs around the kitchen table.
    Yassi nodded but almost immediately shook her head. “The bathroom—” Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand abruptly to her mouth.
    Vanessa pointed, urging her toward the small hallway. “First door on the left.” She barely finished the sentence as Yassi hurried inside, closing the door behind her.
    Putting her concern on hold, Vanessa caught Zari gently, guiding the startled child toward the counter and a small blue case. “I have something just for you,” she said, smiling encouragingly, handing her the case. “Shall I help you open it?”
    Zari held the case tentatively, but her eyes had gone as round as black moons.
“Maman?”
    It was impossible to ignore the sounds from the bathroom; clearly, Yassi was very ill. Vanessa knelt toward the child. “She’ll be fine, Zari, I promise.” She hoped she was right.
    She went to work, opening a package of tea biscuits and a bar of chocolate. “Do you like chocolate?” She knew Arash and Yassi had taught their daughter English—she was probably fluent—and Zari seemed to understand everything she said. And now, thankfully, the house was quiet again except for the faint sound of the tap running in the bathroom.
    Zari nodded, but she turned her careful attention to opening the case. She took her time, examining the contents—a small, plush white tiger with glass-green eyes, a tiny silk mouse, a locket, and a small bag of jacks. All simple treasures discovered at Incirlik’s Local Closet, a secondhand shop for nomadic military families.
    â€œMamnoon,”
Zari said, ducking her head shyly as she clutched the mouse and the tiger. “Thank you very much.”
    â€œKhahesh Mikonam.”
Vanessa stumbled over the Farsi phrase, and she rolled her eyes, mocking herself for Zari’s benefit.
    Zari smiled. Vanessa smiled, too. She held out an offering of chocolate.
    â€œMaman?”
    â€œ
Man khoobam,
Mama’s fine, my love, much better.” Yassi crossed the kitchen, her face and hair damp where she’d splashed herself with water.
    And, watching her, Vanessa noticed she moved with more of the fluidity and confidence she’d seen at their very first meeting, when Arash introduced them at the hotel in Berlin.
    Yassi looked up, meeting Vanessa’s eyes. Then she kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Chocolate?”
    â€œIs that all right?” Vanessa asked slowly. “I should have asked you first . . .”
    Her voice trailed off as she put the signs together—the light in Yassi’s eyes, the intensity of her sickness. Yassi was pregnant.
    For a moment she