Page 18 of Whistleblower

My lips twitch into a half smile. “Well, you’re in an underground bunker, well past midnight, so—”

“What?” She checks her wrist, but there’s no watch. I show her mine that reads one-thirty in the morning. “Oh my God, I got here at six! I didn’t even realize. I should…”

She immediately begins stacking folders on the ground, and I instinctively fall to my knees to help her.

“Time flies when you’re reading something really interesting,” I offer as I gather stacks of papers and push them in her direction.

“I’m not usually one to confess my secrets to strangers, but seeing as you’re the only other civilian I’ve talked to in…God, I don’t even know how long…”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I assure her, my curiosity rising.

“Good, because I’ll totally rat you out about the gym.” She winks. “Honestly, I’m in so far over my head. I’m trying to prepare myself by reading up on the agents and their case files. A huge part of my job is finding a way to relate and connect…” She lets out a deep sigh. “But I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I’m so far out of my element. The stuff these agents encounter daily is basically all source material for the Oxygen channel.” She finds my eyes again and tilts her head. “That’s a broadcasting station that mostly has—”

“True crime. Serial killer documentaries.”

“Exactly.” She shudders.

“So you’re uncomfortable around that stuff?”

“Downright disturbed. Guns in particular. I hate guns.”

At the moment, I’m grateful for my loose sweats and deep pockets, so she can’t see I’m armed. I’m always armed.

“Which is why it’s pretty apparent I took the wrong job,” she continues.

“What job?”

“I have no idea what Callen is telling people, but I’m basically here to identify organizational issues, help with recruiting, pacify some interoffice animosity…and other obscure business initiatives that you probably don’t care about.”

My stomach sinks like lead when I realize who I just lied to. I thought she was simply a paperwork girl I wouldn’t see again. “You’re the new HR person?”

“Dammit.” Tossing her head back, she half grumbles, half laughs. “I hate that title, but I suppose. Oh hey, I think HR applies to contractors too—so, I will be setting up a comment box outside of my office. Feel free to complain if my sticky-note basketballs ever become a major nuisance.”

“You’re already forgiven.” My lips continue to curl, I can’t help it.

“Is it also a good time to mention that I spilled the coffee grounds in the break room?” She cringes, showing me her teeth as she curls her hands and cups them together. “I made a little pile but I couldn’t find a broom. I’m sorry.”

My face is a little uncomfortable at the moment, I don’t usually smile this much. “You’re good at this.” I rise, turning my hips to ensure my gun stays unnoticeable.

“Good at what?”

“Conversation.”

“Thank you,” she says with a curious smile. “That’s an odd compliment…but a nice one.”

“I just mean, when you first saw me you looked scared, I felt like you were going to try and run or something.”

She lets out a deep breath. “Well for a moment I thought you were an operative.” She taps the pile of folders. I flinch, wondering if I have a file she’s reviewed. Whatever the FBI has claimed I’ve done probably isn’t even the half of it.

I lick my lips as I glance at hers—cherry-colored. Bright and full, but she’s not wearing any makeup. “Would that have been bad?”

“How much do you know about PALADIN?”

“Outside of the fact that it’s comprised of secret assassins that are now commissioned by the FBI, not much.” I shoot her a knowing look.

“Some of the things these people have seen and done…” She shakes her head solemnly. “It’s hard to stomach.”

“You were scared because you thought I was one of those murderous monsters?”

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