Page 8

Chapter Eight

Abriella

Laughing with no humor whatsoever, Abriella stepped off the elevator the following morning floors above where she normally worked. Not at all surprising. She’d known this would be the case without needing to stretch her imagination to its limit. Of course the Director wanted to see her right away—her name was at the top of their new list. Half a dozen people with the right clearances to gain access to FBI records implicated in the latest threat meant lots of ruffled feathers. Feathers she would have to smooth over if the evidence cleared their names, which remained a big if she didn't want to think too hard about. Just another day at the office.

With a sharp knock, Abriella let herself into the steel and glass box of Marissa’s office and promptly shut the door behind her. She did a double-take after finding the woman in question sporting an auburn bob. Honestly, she changed her hair color so often, it was a wonder she had any hair left at all.

“Agent Garcia, please sit.” Marissa nodded toward the pair of upholstered tube chairs opposite her desk. The kind made to look modern and seamless with a single bent metal frame constructed of one continuous piece of tubing and speckled black commercial grade upholstery that were invented circa the 70s or 80s.

“Director, I can explain—”

“There's no need.” She gave another clipped nod and waited for Abriella to sit before continuing. “I received a call from the Attorney General last night.”

Abriella's stomach muscles tightened to the point of discomfort. “I see…”

“I'm sure you do.” A hint of a smile was there and gone as it passed over Marissa’s face. “It goes without saying that they are concerned about the direction of the investigation.”

An unattractive snort escaped before she could smother the sound. “Concerned.”

“Mhmm. Concerned. I was told in no uncertain terms to ‘avoid making hasty connections’ to anyone within or closely associated with the current administration.” Marissa's tone implied the eye roll she resisted.

Abriella's pulse accelerated yet again. “Si, of course. But with all due respect—” she mumbled with a flick of her hand. “—that is exactly where the evidence is pointing.”

“I do not deny that. Don't think I didn't personally scrutinize the work Mr. Wilkes concluded yesterday. Ah.” She held up a hand to halt Abriella’s interruption before it could gain momentum. “It's good work. Great work, in fact. You have my full support to continue pursuing this angle. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't apprise you of the situation, though.”

“Gracias. I promise you, we will not back down.” Abriella shifted her weight forward in the uncomfortable metal chair to level a serious look on her supervisor. “If we back down now, we let them win. I do not intend to do this. Over my dead body.”

A minute stretched into a moment as the women surveyed one another across the expanse of the desk. Bella couldn't decipher the expression on Marissa’s face, but the glimmer of conviction in her gaze was simultaneously reassuring and worrisome. Eventually, Marissa dipped her chin with a resolute nod and a nearly imperceptible exhale that popped the tension hanging heavy in the air between them.

“I pray it won't come to that. We’ve had to deal with enough dead bodies. If you're right about this, we’re dealing with forces greater than us. A level of corruption that could rock the government off its foundation. Run a clean investigation and be prepared for the fallout. I do not want you or any of the agents working with you to go from investigator to target.”

Abriella huffed another laugh that carried no humor in it. “Ay, as if we have not already painted the marks on our backs.”

Marissa's shoulders sank with another audible exhale. “God help us all, in that case.”

They rose from their seats in unison, exchanging hand shakes and silent glances that spoke volumes. God help them, indeed. She sent a prayer to her angels as she departed the Director’s office to return to the tactical operations room she'd commandeered the night before. Politics and pleasantries aside, they had work to do. Very serious, and very terrifying work.

The room was exactly what one would picture and the irony of it was not lost on her—large table, whiteboards wallpapered with photos, printouts of screenshots, and maps. Interspersed amongst the papers were scribbles and notes in dry erase marker as the handful of trusted agents worked through the remaining files and folders blanketing the steel tabletop. She counted at least three tablets among the detritus. Her appearance in the room brought the total personnel to half a dozen. Six intrepid agents attempting to take down an extremist group that had been plaguing the country for at least two years. She didn't love the odds, but she knew these people would be the best ones for the job.

Luke sat at the head of the table, stone-faced with his arms crossed over his broad chest. If looks could kill, they wouldn't have a terrorist group to hunt down. Taz sat to his right, if you could call his posture sitting. Two laptops and a fourth tablet precariously propped against a two-liter bottle of Coke hid him from view, but her entrance caught his attention, and his visible exhaustion caught hers in return. Tommy Gallagher, the newest member of their team, loitered to Luke’s left, looking all the part adoring, eager to please puppy. Rounding out their bare-bones crew were Agents Langston and Duprey. Good men who’d proven themselves over and over again, especially when it came to the work they'd already done on this insanity that was Bella’s life.

She passed the white boards, scanning the information that had been added in her absence, before turning to the group. “Let’s get to it, then.”

Grim faces and terse nods invited her to continue. “We’re dealing with something even larger than we initially assumed. This isn't news to most of us, but I’m going to say it anyway—someone with deep pockets and deeper connections is pulling the strings. We’re getting pressure from above to keep this quiet, we have virtually no leads, and very little evidence.”

“And some asshat is working against us from the inside,” quipped Taz from behind his fortress of screens.

“Si. We’ve already established we cannot trust the CIA. We have reason to believe someone inside the bureau is leaking information. Someone close to the Cohen-Williams family is working with the group as well. With pressure coming from the Attorney General, our investigation will be difficult. We run this clean and quiet.”

Luke snorted softly, his jaw clenching as he shook his head. “We take to the shadows.”

“Just like them.” Tommy, his expression typically affable and sweet, squared his shoulders with a look so intense and murderous, Bella found herself wondering what the young man had seen in his life to carry such staunch resilience.

Langston straightened in his seat before tilting his head side to side with an audible pop of his neck. “Clean and quiet. If we can't draw the rats out of the hole, we go in after them.”

“Si. But I need you all to understand the risks. I need you all to be careful. I refuse to lose any agents.” She scanned the assembly and gave a quick dip of her chin. “Taz will set us up with burner phones. We meet outside the bureau. Until we can determine the source of the leaks, we must tighten the formation and protect the integrity of the investigation.”

“See me outside of the headquarters. I'll provide the address for our off-site war room.” Luke’s weight shifted forward, his arms resting on the surface of the table. “We keep the circle tight and we don't move until we have undeniable evidence and a bulletproof case.”

“They can't see us coming. But we are coming for them.”

Eerie silence followed her statement as she turned her gaze to each face around her. The common denominator in every expression was grim resolution. Inhaling, she held her breath for a moment before releasing it through pursed lips. “God help us all.”

The soft-spoken sentiment was echoed sotto voce, the hushed whispers sending a chill down her spine. These men, her men, were undertaking a mission deadly enough to rival any of the action she had seen overseas. She prayed, not for the first time that day, that they’d all make it out alive. Unfortunately, the odds weren't in their favor. Dios mio , she thought to herself as she tightened her grip on the back of a chair. Too much blood had already been spilt. Her heart couldn't handle being responsible for even more, but the options were slim. Dangerously slim. As if reading her mind, each and every agent around her nodded. They didn't need to say it out loud. They knew the risks and even with that knowledge, they were here. A sliver of humanity amid a storm of monsters with one common goal—stop the madness before it swept through the country. So much for just another day at the office.