Tems nodded. “If it weren’t,” he said, “I’d ask you if you’d like to go on a date sometime. I’d ask you what your favorite restaurant was, what you like to eat.” He gave her a crooked smile in the night. “I’d ask you if you wanted to stay over, or if you wanted to take it slow.”
Sydney didn’t know what to say to that. Was there anything? She found herself thinking of Winter, of the impossibility of being together. Sometimes, she had a fantasy of what it would be like if they just stepped away from their lives right now. Him from the spotlight, her from the secret world. What it would be like if they could just disappear together into the crowded street outside of their hotel, safe in the anonymity of a mass of humanity.
In another life, that could be the easiest decision in the world.
But it wasn’t—they were in this life, and in this life, the scenario was impossible. So what was the point of thinking it? She and Winter had less than twelve hours left together on this mission, and after that stretched another unknown period of time, where she might not see him again for months, maybe years.
Or maybe ever again.
But Tems, at least, walked in the shadows like she did. He understood the nature of her work, knew what could happen and what couldn’t. He didn’t hang on to wild dreams in the way Winter did. He didn’t have that optimism and poetry in his heart. Tems could have a fling and move onwithout a word. He saw the world the way it was. They could meet on and off for their entire career, if Sydney let them, if they decided to do it.
Maybe Sydney couldn’t imagine a love life, but she could imagine a halfway love with Tems, in the way Sauda and Niall managed—nothing exclusive, nothing permanent, just the occasional meetup whenever their missions intersected. A lifetime of unspoken, knowing glances and speaking in secrets.
The thought did not excite her. But she could see herself doing it. She could find small moments of joy in that.
“Are you trying to ask me something, Tems?” she said quietly.
He smiled wryly at her. “An agent never asks directly,” he replied. “They only know what makes sense.”
What makes sense. And, in a way, they did. She let them stay where they were, standing apart, not speaking. Maybe this was the better, more sensible way.
“If we survive,” she said.
“If we survive,” he echoed. “So let’s try to make it through.”
She thought of Winter again, felt the knife twisting in her heart. Then she rebuilt the steel walls around herself, until the fire that consumed her every time she was with him chilled against the metal, trapped and contained. She let the fire wither until it was nothing but ash and deadwood littering the floor of her chest.
Maybe it was for the best that she’d left Winter behind. Best to turn around early on a dead-end street before you walked the entire length of it.
When the wind blew again, Sydney straightened. “Let’s just make it through,” she agreed.
18The World Tilts
The Istana, the official home of Singapore’s president, had been draped for the gala that evening in long red and white banners, the country’s national colors, and soldiers in matching uniforms stood in two lines leading from the golden gates to the marble steps leading up to the building’s grand entrance. The colors contrasted boldly with the lush green foliage that framed the palace at every corner. Lining the top of the steps were members of the national guard, rifles hoisted against their shoulders.
Gavi walked in silence next to Winter. The fight they’d had the night before was fresh in Winter’s mind, but the mission was still on, and that meant he still had a part to play with her at his side. He didn’t look at her, though, and she didn’t look at him. They walked without touching hands, pretending to admire the decorations in the palace.
Winter’s custom suit stood out against the bursts of color. It only made him feel more exposed, as if he might see a target on the fabric at any moment. Behind him, Sydney kept a reasonable distance, looking more severe today in her bodyguard’s suit, her hair pulled tightly back with a long pin tucked through it. Her gaze was trained on a corner or a hall or a cluster of people, never on him. But he couldn’t help lingering on her, and now, as she passed between a red, flowering vine and wasmomentarily shrouded in crimson, he imagined it as a scarlet dress trailing behind her. It didn’t matter what she was wearing, really. There were hundreds of guests here draped in luxury, but none of them stood out to him like she did.
He turned away and took a deep breath. Maybe it was for the best that their mission would end today. He could go home, Gavi could go her separate way, and he and Sydney wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness they had unearthed between them.
The thought still left a pang in his heart.
Servers in flowing robes bustled in and out of the reception hall, offering the entering guests platters of ice-cold fruits and champagne. Winter took glasses of champagne for him and Gavi, then handed one to her as politely as he could muster.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
He didn’t reply. Instead, his eyes darted beyond the reception hall to the long entryway past the main doorway, where security gathered thick.
They were everywhere he looked—police in suits and sunglasses, talking quietly to each other on their earpieces, their eyes jumping to each guest in suspicion before they bowed politely and looked away. He wondered if any of them were the CIA agents in disguise that Tems had mentioned. He wondered if Niall was on the grounds, if he had already parked his car in preparation for helping them get to the airfield and waiting plane.
It seemed hard to believe that any assassination could be attempted in a place like this. But as they headed into the main hall, Tems came into view, his face an unwelcome reminder of all the things that had to go right in order for them to call this mission a success.
He was dressed tonight like the US president’s entourage, his black suit blending him in with the rest of the bodyguards and assistants. As they approached, Tems smiled.
“Mr. Young!” he said with a smile. “Everyone in my family is a fan of yours. What a pleasure to see you tonight.”
The sight of him made Winter’s stomach lurch in anticipation of their plan. He chanced a glance at Sydney. Tems had ignored her completely, of course, and she’d done the same. Her lips were tight, her calm expression veiling tension in her step. Her eyes flickered to him, and at his gaze, her lips pressed tighter.
