I stand, pace to the window, then drift closer to Nina’s office door. The wood is thick, the frame solid, but maybe if I?—
“The walls are soundproof,” Darius says without looking up from his screen. “In case you were wondering.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I was wondering. And apparently, I wasn’t being subtle about it.
“Good to know,” I mutter, retreating to my chair.
I try to settle, but my eyes keep wandering to the coffee table scattered with mental health pamphlets and magazines. Psychology Today sits on top, the cover asking “Are You Self-Sabotaging Your Relationships?” in bold letters that feel like a personal attack.
Underneath, a brochure about trauma recovery. Another about attachment styles. A laminated card listing warning signs of PTSD.
I look away.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number, but I recognize the area code. Langley.
Shit.
I glance at Darius, who’s pointedly not looking at me, then step toward the far corner of the room.
“Longo.”
“Chris.” The voice is Deputy Director McIntyre. Not good. “Care to explain why you’re in Los Angeles when you should be at Langley?”
I close my eyes. Here we go.
“Sir, I’m handling the Petrov asset. I needed to brief the therapist before the first session.”
“Bullshit.” McIntyre’s voice is flat. “Agent Nakamura was assigned to Petrov. You reassigned yourself without clearance.”
“Nakamura is green. Petrov’s too valuable to risk with someone who doesn’t understand her psychological profile.”
“And you do?”
“I extracted her. I debriefed her. She trusts me.”
“This isn’t about trust, Longo. This is about protocol. About chain of command. You spent five years deep cover with Amador and now you’ve got a team in LA for a reason. Let them do their job instead of inserting yourself every time something connects back to that operation.”
Heat flares in my chest. He thinks this is about Vicente.
Good. Let him.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Granted.”
“Tatiana Petrov is the most valuable intelligence asset we’ve had in years. She has information about Serbian trafficking networks, weapons pipelines, and financial structures that could cripple organized crime operations across three continents. If she walks, if she decides cooperation isn’t worth the risk, we lose all of that.”
I pause, letting that sink in.
“She’s also psychologically fragile, distrustful of authority, and prone to violent reactions when she feels cornered. The wrong handler could set her off. Could make her run. Could get people killed.”
“And you think you’re the right handler?”
“I know I am. Because I knew her when we were both trapped working for people who’d kill us for disloyalty. That’s why I could recruit her—she knew I understood. She knows I’ve been where she’s been. That matters.”
“Convenient justification.”
