They’d ended up getting snowed into their hotel for two days—days they spent in bed together.
She cringed at the memory of their affair. He’d been a good kisser—good at a lot more than that, actually—but he had also stranded her in the country by stealing her passport and altering it to use himself.
Sorry, sweetheart. Just business.
She could still remember his scrawled note, signed at the bottom with a knife through a heart.
What an asshole. She still hadn’t forgiven him for it. Still, she sometimes wondered idly what Panacea had him up to. Rumors swirled about his insubordinance—that Niall had him shipped overseas for it, although the analyst never mentioned him. She’d only pieced it together after she spotted Tems in a photo on the Sapphire Cross’s site, broad smile on his face as he handed out supplies at the charity’s outpost in Greece. But when Sydney was in London last year with Winter, Tems had been the one who’d left a parcel for her in the Alexandra Palace’s bathroom, the only evidence of his identity being that same signature.
She would have been fine with that being the only contact she had to endure from him for the rest of her life. But now here she was with orders to rescue him from his own mission.
No wonder they had kept his identity a secret from her until now. She was going to kill Sauda for this.
As if on cue, she heard Sauda’s voice calling her. “Come back, Syd,” the woman said in her calm, unconcerned voice. “And meet us in Sim A.”
“You could have told me,” Sydney snapped over her shoulder.
“Why?” Sauda called back with a shrug. “So you could throw this tantrum sooner?”
“So I could tell you to pick someone else for this mission.”
“There’s always a reason we choose you for your missions. It’s possible your refusal could trigger a global war.” She nodded once at Sydney. “And cost Tems his life.”
Sydney hissed a swear under her breath and looked away at the false windows. Sauda’s words burned in her mind.Global war.God damn it all. She could have been a tour guide instead—or any other job that required knowing multiple languages and where the world’s salvation didn’t hang on her every task.
“He nearly cost me mine once,” she snapped. “We’d be even.”
“Look, I get it,” Sauda said. “Tems is a bit… unruly. We’ve had our own frustrations with him.” She turned in the direction of the glass rooms lining the end of the floor. “But he’s also one of our best. If you’re still upset about it later, just say the word. We’ll send Winter home, and try to avert global disaster. But don’t begrudge our commitment to protecting our agents. We’d do the same for you—and we need him as much as we need you. So just hear me out. Are we clear?”
Sydney stood where she was for a second longer, trying to push her annoyance down. Behind Sauda, she saw Winter emerge from the dais with his hands in his pockets, his eyes cautiously fixed on her.
Then she started walking back. “Crystal,” she muttered. “But this better be good. And give me several backup passports this time.”
Sauda just turned coolly away and started leading them to the offices. As Sydney caught up to Winter, he fell into step beside her.
“An ex, huh?” he murmured.
His words sounded light, almost teasing, but she noticed the tightness of his jaw, the stiffness of his posture. It made her tense, too.
“Ex is too strong a word,” she said coldly, without looking at him. “We had a two-day affair while on assignment. An overrated fling.”
“Mm,” he answered. “This mission’s getting more fun by the minute.”
They stepped into the first of the glass offices and entered what appeared to be an empty room. The blank door had several words etched on it.
SIMULATION ROOM A
Winter paused, as if wondering where the chairs and tables were.
“Just stand still,” Sydney told him. “The room’s recording your dimensions.”
Niall closed the door behind them and turned to Sauda. “You do the honors,” he said.
Sauda twisted her wrist in midair. A hologram suddenly appeared between them all, a map of Southeast Asia hovering in the air like a glowing lantern. She gestured at a small dot on the map. “Avalon,” she said, “zoom in on Singapore.”
The dot expanded all around them until a three-dimensional simulation of Singapore filled the entire room. Suddenly, they were standing in a busy intersection in the middle of a city. The sound of motorbikes and cars filled the room. When Sydney looked to her side, she saw street stalls lining open-air buildings, the vendors tossing pan-fried noodles in woks and turning skewers of meat behind curtains of steam, luxury skyscrapers and jungle foliage filling in the scene behind them. It was such a realistic simulation that she could almost feel the humidity in the air.
“I transferred Tems here three months ago,” Niall said.
