Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Abriella

Outside the briefing room, life continued as usual. The steel and glass fortress of DC’s FBI headquarters hummed with activity. Quietly efficient agents clicked away at keyboards, murmuring amongst themselves until the occasional ring of a telephone cut through the constant hum of classified information shared carefully with those who could be trusted. The illusion was enough to make Abriella laugh under her breath, but the sound held no humor. Trust. What a beautiful lie they told themselves.

Holed up in the small, windowless space, Bella, Luke, and Taz suffered under the weight of that single syllable. Trust. It was hard to juggle the truth as they knew it with the fact that they couldn't actually trust anyone. Not easily, anyway. There weren't enough altar candles she could light to illuminate the darkness of their world. No amount of prayers or appeals lessened the burden of trust.

The overhead fluorescents cast the room in a cold, sterile glow and painted their harrowed expressions in stark contrast. The blinds were drawn. The door was locked. Spread before them, covering the table in disarray, were the files and folders compiled in clandestine fashion. Paper trails detailing the list of names that Luke had secured from the defected General’s dead drop the day before. No wonder Luke appeared as though a single stiff breeze could knock him off his feet. Bella shifted her attention to the wiry wraith beside him—if Luke looked like he was balancing on the edge, Taz was clearly already toppling off it. Not for the first time, Bella's worry spiked. All three of them scanned the papers with wary expressions, not yet ready to dig deeper but prepared to do so nevertheless. The list of potential allies could just as easily be a collection of potential threats. The not knowing would be a source of many sleepless nights, she feared.

Paranoia thrummed under her skin as her eyes flicked toward the door of their own accord. Every few minutes, a glance. She wasn't usually this jumpy, but the reality of their situation was suffocating. The ever-present knowledge of a mole within the Bureau made this task ten times more harrowing. Someone among their ranks was feeding the CIA, as well as their unknown handlers, every move they made. With a softly whispered swear, she scrubbed her face with the clammy palms of her shaky hands. They were being watched. They all knew it. Whomever they were working against likely already knew about this clandestine briefing behind locked doors. It wasn't a comforting thought in the least.

Seated across from her, Taz had that look that she had been seeing too often lately. His knee bounced a staccato rhythm that his fingertips matched as his drummed the edge of the metal table. His agitation kept him in perpetual motion as his gaze swept over the files, papers, and at the very center, the handwritten list Luke had secured. Luke, who was planted beside Taz like a stone wall of silent concern, his eyes more often scrutinizing Taz instead of the information they had gathered together.

With a sharp exhale, she pushed herself to her feet to reach over the surface of the table and tap the paper filled with names. “We need strategy. Twenty-six names. If even half of them are clean, we have a major advantage, si?”

“If.” Taz’ voice was clipped and cool as his fingers stopped tapping and gripped the edge of the table till the nail beds turned white. “We don't have fuck all for proof. Not a goddamn ounce of proof they are actually on our side.”

“Nor do we have proof that they aren't,” Luke counseled in a calm, censuring tone.

Taz snorted a derisive laugh as his eyes rolled. “That’s one hell of a fucking gamble, Luke.”

Bella stifled her sigh and sent up a prayer for patience. “Mi sol, we don't have another option.”

Muttering something scathing, Taz went back to the list as she did the same. Some of the names were familiar—agents she had crossed paths with, military officials with solid reputations, members of various committees and offices she had worked with. The rest were unknowns. Their names could belong to saviors or traitors. She simply didn't know.

“We start with cross-referencing known affiliations. See if any of them have had unusual activities flagged. Unexpected transfers, classified briefings, things like this.” Her fingertips fluttered over the table to indicate the scattered papers potentially holding the information they needed.

Luke gave a curt nod as he stole a glance toward her face. “I'll run them through what we have in the database, but we’re going to need something more concrete.”

“Colonel Harkan Rivers,” Taz blurted.

“What about him?” Bella’s forehead crinkled. They had just barely collected all the information. Clearly, her Taz had been pulling extra hours again if he’d already made discoveries.

“Stationed overseas for the last decade until he was suddenly reassigned to a high-clearance position in the Pentagon. Fucking sketchy, if you ask me.” He scowled at the list as though it had personally offended him with its existence.

“That could be a coincidence,” Luke offered in his soothing voice as he leaned forward to scan the papers.

Taz scoffed. “Sure. And I'm a well-adjusted person.”

Bella bit back a sigh that desperately wanted to become a laugh. “We will flag this name for now, T. We cannot assume guilt just because something looks off. We need more than gut feelings.”

He didn't argue, but the set of his jaw did all the protesting for him as he slouched back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. She glanced toward Luke, but he gave a small shake of his head in reply. The message was clear as day—not now. The cold dread climbed higher up her spine as she pressed on.

“General Whittaker? He has been very loud about growing corruption in the intelligence community. If anyone would be on our side—”

“Or he’s just saying the right things to make us think he is, like another fucking puppet on a string.” Taz jerked his chin toward the farthest edge of the table. “CIA’s been setting this up for years. You really think they’d let someone like him run his mouth if it didn't serve their purpose?”

“Timothy.” Luke’s voice was calm despite being full of warning. Taz glanced away with an audible huff.

“Dios mio, T. I get it. I do.” Bella softened her tone. “We cannot afford to let paranoia take over. We need clarity. Information.”

Exhaling, Taz raked his hand through the mess of his hair. “I can't stand the thought of trusting the wrong person. We know someone is watching. We’re barely staying ahead of this as it is.”

She let her eyes linger for a moment on the younger man’s face. His exhaustion was evident. His typical sharpness was dulled, as dull as his harrowed eyes, but he wasn't just angry. She could deal with his anger. It was the fear that caused her heart to ache in her chest. She reached across the distance and gently brushed her fingertips over his shoulder, a barely there touch that still made him flinch.

“We do this smart. Vet every name. Watch for patterns. Do not assume the worst until we have proof.”

Taz did not look convinced. “And what about the fucking mole?”

“We do it smart. It is like looking for a needle in a haystack. It takes time—”

“Fuck the haystack! I'll burn the fucking thing to the ground and find the needle in the ashes!” Taz abruptly pushed to his feet, the metal chair shrieking in protest before it clattered to the floor with a loud crack that made Luke jump in his seat with a gasp. Before either of them could intervene, Taz ripped the door open, stepped through it, and slammed it shut behind him with another bang that echoed in the vacuous silence left in his wake.

Luke lurched forward and pressed his elbows to the table before laying his face in his palms with a shaky sigh. His words were mumbled and inarticulate as he spoke into his hands. “Let him go. I'll circle back later.”

Without a word, Bella circumnavigated the table and stopped short behind the seated man who suddenly didn't seem quite as large and imposing as he usually did. Shoulders hunched, head bowed, face covered, he looked exactly how she felt—war-weary and overwhelmed. Her arms curled around his shoulders as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head. They were the strong ones, but even the strongest soldiers weren't invincible.

She let her mind wander to Lily. Her sweet Lily, who had been so excited to plan their future, so eager to escape the cloak and dagger world of politics. Lily, who had put their plans for marriage and babies and a future together on hold to remain in the employ of the White House. To continue doing the work that was destroying her because Bella had asked. She hadn't needed to beg or plead, and that made it somehow worse. She hadn't even needed to make the argument that they needed someone to get close to the President to rule out coercion or manipulation or blackmail or, heaven forbid it, drugs or mind-altering chemicals. She simply asked, and Lily said yes. They were all sacrificing. They were all suffering. And none of them had a better option. Bella hated every second of it.

With a steadying breath, Bella forced herself to unfurl her arms from around Luke’s shoulders and stood upright. She let her hand linger in the space between his shoulder blades a little longer.

“We will divide the list. I am sure T is already going to comb through the entire thing himself. We can split the names, dig into their history, and find out who can be trusted. Carefully. Quietly.”

“Wilco, Abs.” Luke lifted his gaze, red-rimmed eyes carrying all the worries he wouldn't voice aloud. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Mn. Si.” Impulse drove her to kiss the man’s forehead before she squeezed his shoulder and stepped away. They would figure it out. They always did. She couldn't help but worry about the consequences when they did, though. If only it was as easy as burning the haystack to the ground to find the needles hidden inside.