As her mind turned in circles, she realised that the tac team were taking their prisoners out one at a time, leading them out through one of the windows, rather than down the stairs. Stairs which might no longer be there, Hallie reminded herself.
As the last of the attackers was led out, a group of new people arrived, the director in the lead. He had Jasper and Dudon with him along with another investigator that Hallie hadn’t seen for a while. Mel. Melechan Mills, who had broken Hallie’s cheekbone at their first meeting and enjoyed hurting her while she’d been in cuffs and under suspicion of murder. Seeing him, Hallie struggled to her feet. The energy drinks were helping, and she did not want to be at any disadvantage when facing Mel. Girard got up with her, but stayed by her side.
“Any injuries?” the director asked, directing the question between Commander Rojas and Girard.
“None to our people, sir,” the commander answered. “Miss Talbot and Abbott managed to get a few shots in against the hostiles.”
“Good,” the director said. “Location secure?”
“It is, yes. We’ve swept for more traps and found nothing. We’re going to check the office and workspace now,” the commander added.
“Good, thank you. Let me know when it’s clear,” Peredur said, and stood aside to let the commander leave the room. He then turned to Girard and Hallie. He looked marginally better than he had the day before, which wasn’t much. The purple shadows were a little less dark. His eyes were keen, though.
“Jasper has requisitioned some body armour for you, Miss Talbot. It will be available later today.” The director’s voice was brisk, clipped. “And I’ve asked Rojas to assign a unit to work with you and Abbott for now. He suggested Frollo’s team.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hallie said, a little relieved that they were only being assigned part of the tac team and not the whole lot.
“That will work well,” Girard agreed.
“This is quite a mess,” the director said, looking around.
Hallie followed the direction of his gaze and winced, having to agree. What had been a quietly luxurious apartment now looked more like the ruined house they’d left in Minamaan. There hadn’t been an actual fire, but the walls were peppered with bullet holes, the furniture had been ripped apart, stuffing exploding into the air, the carpet was covered with splinters. All it needed now was a fire, Hallie thought.
“Did you get anywhere with Miss Halinburn’s family or background, sir?” Girard asked.
“Not very far at all,” the director answered, and glanced at Mel. “Tell us what you’ve got so far.”
“Are you sure, sir?” Mel asked. There was almost no deference in his tone, in sharp contrast to the other investigators. He looked at Hallie. “I know she’s suddenly supposed to be the golden girl, but doesn’t it seem odd to anyone else that the hostile group has turned up at two places she’s been?”
Hallie was sure her own gasp wasn’t the only one in the room. She’d always known Mel was hostile to her, but hadn’t expected him to be quite so open about it, or direct with his accusation.
“Mills,” the director said, tension and anger in his voice, “that’s a very serious accusation. Do you have any proof to back it up?”
“Proof? What more proof do you need? We’ve maintained operational security for years, and then she comes along and our safe house is blown, and then not only does our target get away from here, but the hostiles turn up minutes after she’s on site.” Mel’s voice was full of scorn and confidence. He believed what he was saying. Hallie’s truth sense told her that much. He’d never had a high opinion of her, which was completely mutual, so she supposed it made a certain kind of sense to him that she might betray the investigators.
“That is ridiculous,” Girard said, before Hallie had managed to channel her reaction down into words. “We were both under fire here. Hallie was as much at risk as I was.”
“And yet she’s fine,” Mel pointed out, with a nasty little smirk, eyes travelling between Girard and Hallie, as if measuring the distance between them. “And I can’t help think she’s leading you on, Abbott.”
“Come over here and make those accusations again,” Hallie invited, taking a step forward, feeling a flush of anger surge up her neck. There was something about Mel that prompted her to violence, more than anyone else she’d ever met. And he’d just insulted not only her but Girard. Under her fury was the prickle of humiliation. What she had with Girard felt real and private and new, and Mel was the last person she wanted to bring it out into the open.
“Easy enough to prove you weren’t involved. Hand over your phone,” Mel said.
“No,” Hallie answered, the refusal expelled from the deepest part of her. “It’s my personal device.”
“Oh, how convenient. Won’t let us look at it?” Mel taunted.
“Why don’t you turn over yours?” Hallie snapped back. “You seem very full of ideas with nothing to back them up. I can’t help wonder where the ideas came from.”
“Think I’m afraid of you?” Mel asked, stalking across the room towards her.
“That’s enough.” The director’s voice cracked through the air, and both Hallie and Mel stopped where they were. “There’s enough going on without you two behaving like children.” He looked exhausted again, Hallie realised, and guilt washed away the last of her anger. He was having a difficult enough time without her unbridled contempt for Mel making matters worse. “Miss Talbot, I hear that although you’re not injured, you have run down your energy. Perhaps you’d head back to the officesand review the evidence we’ve gathered so far? As I said yesterday, I want fresh eyes on it.”
“Sir.” Hallie wanted to argue. She wanted to keep her feet planted where they were, to find out what information Mel might have uncovered about Zurine and what Jasper and Dudon had learned about the sweet wrapper. But she recognised an order when she heard one. And she wasn’t going to openly challenge the director’s authority. Even if she did want to smack the smug look off Mel’s face. So she looked across at Girard. “Could I take the car?”
“Of course,” he said, and handed the keys over. “I’ll get a ride back with the others.”
“You’re cleared to pass through the checkpoints, and reception at the offices has your security pass,” the director added. He seemed relieved that she hadn’t argued.
