Page 13 of Exposé

Sighing, I slipped my ID back into my pocket. "No more than usual." Our code phrase triggered a buzzing on the door, disconnecting the lock and allowing me to slip into the secondary holding space.

Leaning in, I opened my eyes wide and posed for the retinal scanner until the beep. Another buzz sounded, unlocking the door leading toward the elevator.

I hit the button and stepped inside as the doors slid sideways, and punched the second-floor button with my thumb.

How was I going to break the news to Keith?

The elevator lifted and stopped, the doors slid open, allowing me to step out onto the expansive floor.

"Jesus Christ. As I live and breathe." Callie, our senior analyst, stood from her chair and pushed her glasses up her nose, giving her that sexy-as-sin librarian look. "I didn't expect to see you back for a few weeks."

A slight grin grew on my lips. "Change of plans. Is Keith in?"

"When is he not?" She turned towards his corner office without a view. "Careful though, he's got something brewing, and it's got him in a fit."

Great.

I leaned into her. "So it's not a good time to tell him I shot my mark."

Her eyes widened, showing the whites all around, her brows lifting high. "You shot Manuel? Please tell me he's still alive."

I gave a contemptuous smile. "He'll need a Band-Aid, but other than that, he's fine."

She let out a breath with puffed cheeks. "I'm so relieved."

Keith's door opened, and I skirted around her. "I've gotta go. We'll talk later."

"Yeah, right. Of course."

She slunk back into her chair as I made my way towards his open office door, another analyst slipping out as though he were escaping.

My heart rate ramped up as I rapt my knuckles on the wooden door, the analyst wiping sweat from his rosy red cheeks, the papers in his arms facing all directions as he hurried away in a fluster.

"Sir."

Keith stood at his desk, his high and tight salt-and-pepper hair parted to the side with a pristine line. His trimmed beard mirrored the shaved edges.

He glanced up from the folder sitting on his desk and flipped the cover over, hiding whatever details laid inside. "Nate. You're back early."

I winced. "Yeah—"

"Okay." He gestured towards the chair at his desk. "Have a seat. I want a quick debrief."

Shit.

Keith sat down, his blue checkered tie snug against his throat. His white button-up shirt remained crisp and unwrinkled, matching his meticulous attention to detail and stiff personality.

My thigh muscles ached as I moved, my palm stinging from the asphalt. "Not much to tell." I rubbed the back of my neck as I sat down. "He had the NOC list, so I engaged and shot him."

Director Brentwood coughed into his hand. "You what?"

I scrunched my upper lip. "He was getting ready to take off and leave with the list. I had to do something." I spread my legs wide and braced my elbows on the arms of the chair. "I engaged him, he ran, I couldn't stop him, I shot him in the leg." I shrugged. "It's just a little graze. He'll be fine."

"This is the second time you've deliberately disobeyed a direct order." He placed his clenched fist on the desk.

"Yes, sir." I nodded. "But to be fair, Monica didn't really count, seeing as she was about to drive off a cliff and leave us empty-handed."

"We would have found another way."

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