Page 15 of Escape into the Night

It was nearly impossible for Luke to make himself leave the office. It was even harder to close the door behind him. The hardest part of all was returning to his desk and acting as if everything was routine and he was simply rifling through the files without a care in the world. He deserved a goddamn medal for not looking up when Taz’ office door opened hours later and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to follow the man’s retreat to the elevator. His focus honed on the sound of everystep, the ding of the car arriving on their floor, and the ominous swish of the doors sliding closed behind him.

Twenty minutes passed—twenty long, painful, weighted minutes—before a chime broke the tense silence of his desk. Seconds later, Bella’s office door opened on the far right. Their gazes met and Luke was on his feet in a flash. Long strides carried him across the expanse and into her office without either of them speaking a word, and as soon as the door closed, they both pulled their phones out in sync.

Dread sat heavy in his gut as he and Bella scanned the same file in soundless unison. It wasn't a long list by any means, but the contents of it were enough to have him swallowing his damn tongue to keep the terror from rising. Especially knowing every name on this list likely knew of the investigation into their names in some capacity. If they didn't, someone close to them did. His hand was shaking as he glanced up to meet Bella’s wide-eyed stare. Resolving himself to the inevitable, he gave a clipped nod.

“Where do we start?”

“The bottom, I guess.” She tossed the phone to her desk and sent a cascade of pastry wrappers flying. “Dios mio.”

“The bottom it is,” he muttered, turning his eyes back to the screen with a firmer set to his jaw. “God help whoever is responsible.”

Bella grunted a noncommittal sound and stared into the middle distance, likely scanning the list in her mind as he read it over with rising anxiety, from the bottom to the top.

Three Executive Assistant Directors, the Associate Deputy Director, Deputy Director Rick Simmons, and the goddamn Director of the FBI herself. Considering one of the EADs on the list was responsible for the Information and Technology Branch of the bureau, he had every reason to believe the gig was up, and that fact had him ready to leap into action or run for the hills. Hepressed the phone to the space between his eyes and shut them tight.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“I will set up a room. By the book, Luke. Forget the names. We do this by the book.” Her hand reached out to squeeze his bicep. “It is the only way.”

His shoulders sagged with the weight of it all, but most heavy of all was the truth behind her words. They’d taken an oath to protect and preserve. Never had he ever thought that would mean opening an investigation into a half dozen people he called colleagues. Men and women who had taken the same damn oath. Being duty-bound suddenly felt a lot like being duty-trapped.

Chapter Eight

Abriella

Laughingwithnohumorwhatsoever, 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 frameconstructed 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 decipherthe 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.

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