“You don’t have to,” Snow says, her mouth slashing up into a truly frightening smile. “But if you’d like to sing our national anthem, I’m certain it would be a beautiful rendition I’d undoubtably enjoy hearing.”
“It would,” I agree, nodding solemnly. “This little songbird”—I point at myself with both index fingers—“is still waiting on his mirror. For head-smashing purposes.”
Snow chooses to ignore my comment about the mirror, which is probably very wise of her given the circumstances.
“Do we have an agreement, then, Mr Roth?” Snow asks, standing up on her short black heels. She doesn’t hold her hand out to me. I doubt it’s because she’s afraid to touch the trained killer with a lethal trigger inside his mind. That should be the reason, but I’m almost certain it isn’t.
I push away from the wall, moving to stand directly across from Snow. She’s shorter than me, but it still feels like she’s staring down at me from some great height anyway. She’s penthouse, I’m basement, make no mistake about that.
“Yeah,” I answer acerbically, “I’m all yours.” Then, because I can’t seem to help myself. “Is your nephew part of this whole redemption arc you’ve got planned for me?”
For some reason, I need to know if Leo has been playing the part his aunt asked him to play, drawing me in with his sincerity and odd charm for FISA’s benefit.
Snow regards me with a look on her face I cannot interpret in any way that makes sense based on what I know of her. I’d almost say she looks defensive, wary, maybe eventorn.
But when she responds, it’s with the same impartial aplomb I’ve come to expect from her.
“I’m sending him away on a mission. He’ll be gone for at least three months.” Snow’s voice becomes lightly less frigid when she adds, “I think you both need some time apart to sort your heads out.”
There’s a bizarre moment of panic at the thought of Leo being sent out on an extended mission, somewhere likely dangerous and potentially life-threating.
I stamp down on that feeling until it stops squeezing my heart quite so tightly.
“Good.” I say, proud it doesn’t come out as a wheeze.
Snow doesn’t look as if she believes my feigned approval one bit, but mercifully she doesn’t call me out on it.
“Alright then, Mr Roth.” She gives me a placid stretch of her lips. “Let’s get to work.”
CHAPTER NINE
LEO
Three Months Later
The Forces of Investigation and Security Agency base is situated hundreds of feet underground.
It has multiple entrances, some more difficult to pass through than others. I enter through what might be considered the front door. There’s a lift hidden behind three electric doors—all of which need different variations of identification to be opened—that takes people down to the base far below the surface.
It’s ten thirty in the morning on what was supposed to be my first day off in a while. I recently got back from a three-month long mission, and after another week of debriefing, I was meant to have at least two weeks of downtime before my next assignment.
Unfortunately, late last night Anabelle had her assistant call and ask me to come in today for a meeting this morning. It has me a little baffled as to why Anabelle would be requesting to speak with me directly. When I’m being given an initial mission briefing, I’ll usually get it from my unit handler.
If Anabelle wants to speak to me in person, it must be about something very important. It can’t be about something personal. Apart from the fact we don’t really do sharing about each other’s personal lives as a general rule, Anabelle would never waste a meeting on that kind of thing. She’d just call me herself and tell me over the phone. I’m almost certain she would have all our conversations via text if she didn’t despise the practice of texting so much.
The interior of FISA’s base is made up of solid concrete and reinforced steel. It is larger than one might assume, easily of similar size to a skyscraper laid on its side. There are offices and barracks for agents of every level, as well as an expansive gym, cafeteria, and many rooms intended for various forms of training.
Each door in the base requires a passcode, with certain areas reserved for higher-ranking agents who possess more exclusive clearance.
Having arrived on base early this morning to make sure I wouldn’t be late for my meeting with Anabelle, I head over to her office with plenty of time to spare.
I amble through the busy corridors, agents flurrying past me going both ways, until I reach the desk of my aunt’s assistant.
“Morning, mate. How’s guarding the dragon’s den been so far? Any flame dodging necessary?” I ask, leaning against the expansive metal desk.
Josh flashes me a grin, his previously harried look disappearing as he answers me.
“Don’t start; I’ve had so much trouble already today, you wouldn’t believe.”
