Page 172 of Fractured Allegiance
"She's part of his operation."
"She's an associate. An asset at best. And you're compromised when it comes to her." She leans slightly closer, voice dropping. "I haven't reported your involvement with her. I've kept it off the record because I believed you could manage it. But if you go charging into that penthouse, if you blow your cover trying to extract her, you don't just burn yourself. You burn me. You burn this entire operation. And you potentially get both of you killed."
I look back at the river. "So what am I supposed to do? Sit back and wait while Drazen does whatever he wants with her?"
"You're supposed to stay in role. Maintain your cover. And trust that if she's valuable to him, he's not going to kill her without cause." She exhales slowly. "I know that's not what youwant to hear. But it's the reality of undercover work. You can't save everyone."
The silence stretches between us.
Finally, I speak. "He contacted me this morning."
Her expression shifts. "Drazen?"
"Message came through around seven. Time only: 17:00. No location yet."
She's quiet for a moment, processing. "He's calling you in."
"Looks like it."
"And you don't know what it's about."
"No."
She turns back toward the water, hands resting on the railing. When she speaks again, her tone has shifted—less handler reprimanding an agent, more strategist working through a problem.
"This could be routine. Check-in, new assignment, something unrelated to her."
"Or it's a test."
"Or it's a test," she agrees. "If he suspects you're too close to Lydia, which I’m sure he is, this could be his way of gauging your reaction. Seeing if you ask questions. Seeing if you show concern."
"So I stay cold."
"You stay professional." She glances at me. "You go to that meet like it's any other day. You don't ask about her unless he brings her up first. If he does mention her, you respond the way any of his men would—interested in how it affects the operation, not in her personal wellbeing."
"And if she's there?"
"Then you treat her like any other asset in his network. You don't react. You don't make eye contact unless it's natural. You certainly don't try to communicate or signal her in any way." Her voice hardens. "If he's testing you, the moment you show attachment is the moment you confirm his suspicions."
I grip the railing tighter but say nothing.
Naomi reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out something small—a device no bigger than a car key fob.
"Take this. Micro-tracker. When you get the location, activate it before you go in. Press and hold for three seconds. It'll ping a dedicated frequency. I'll have a surveillance team positioned at a distance—far enough not to compromise you, close enough to extract if things go sideways."
I take it, turn it over in my palm. "How close?"
"Two vehicles. Four agents. Monitoring only unless the situation actively deteriorates." She pauses. "But understand—this is off-book. If it comes back on anyone, it comes back on you. Not me. Not the Bureau. You're operating without official authorization."
"Understood."
"And Silas?" Her tone softens, just slightly. "I'm giving you backup because I don't want to lose an agent. But if you walk into that meet and make a move that compromises your cover for her, I can't protect you. The Bureau can't protect you. You'll be on your own."
"I know."
She studies my face for a long moment. "Do you? Because the man who called me at 6 AM didn't sound like an agent managing an asset. He sounded like someone who's already decided she's worth more than the mission."
I look back at the river. "She's not part of the mission. I know that."
