I do not handle failure well, and that’s what this mission was. A complete failure. One with dire consequences if we can’t stop these weapons from being used against innocent people.
I hate that the Order is winning. That they are one step ahead of us.
I wake up early on Monday with a plan.
First, I ping Oliver directly and ask to speak with him as soon as possible to brief him on the mission. I need to take full responsibility. I don’t want him to think Charlie messed up; it was only her second assignment. I won’t mention how I silenced her in a moment of panic. I get the sense he would not approve.
Then, on the way into work, I get two large coffees and a gluten-free crumb cake.
As I head to my office, I stop at Charlie’s desk. I saw her only ten hours ago when we parted ways at the airport. We didn’t say much on the flight home. There wasn’t much I could say.
The mission was a bust. There is no way round it. No silver lining. Monique sold key evidence to an unknown entity. We have no way to get the evidence to the authorities so they can seize Castillo’s yacht and search it for the weapons. Which means we need to intercept somehow before they are used or resold.
I’m exhausted. I’m cranky. And the kiss with Charlie keeps replaying in my mind. Of all the ways I’ve pictured kissing her – I can admit that now – in a dark alley in Copenhagen just so I could shut her up was not one of them.
It doesn’t matter; there is no way she will let me kiss her again. I’m an executive here. She isn’tmyassistant, but we were on a job together. I crossed a line. Another loss from this weekend.
“This is for you,” I say as I stand next to her desk, decorated with bright colorful tchotchkes and a floral-print calendar.Very Charlie, I think.
Her blue eyes shine behind her glasses as she peers up at me. I can see she’s also exhausted. And the awkward grin she gives me, polite and distant, is like a slap. Like she would rather forget the kiss too.
I put the coffee and the crumb cake on her desk. “Gotta beat the jet lag, Ross,” I offer as an explanation for my gift.
I’m not sure what made me think of her while I was in line. To plead with her to not report me to HR. To show her that the kiss did mean something, but I can’t explore those pesky emotions right now. That I care for her, about her, but that, as I suspected, romantic entanglements would be a distraction.
She eyes the coffee cup and brown bag. “It’s half-caf,” I say, “and gluten-free,” I add.I know what you like.
Charlie nods. “Thank you,” she says as she reaches for the coffee. I’m not sure what response would have been enough to calm the storm inside me, but that wasn’t it.
But this is the response I needed. Professional. Removed. Detached. I cannot risk innocent lives because of a crush. I cannot riskherlife, should someone within the Order find out.
I trust Charlie now. She is one of the few people in this world who have that. But though I feel more than that for her, it’s too late to claim anything else. This means I will hurt. If not today, then tomorrow. Because I cannot pursue Charlie, and eventually she’ll find someone else and I’ll be unhappy and jealous. Every rotten part of me will bubble up to the surface again. She deserves better than that.
I head to my office and wait for Oliver’s schedule to open up. Outside my door, I spot Charlie working. Ana stops by and they chat before heading out.
Pro: with Charlie not at her desk I can stop being distracted.
Con: now I have to worry what Charlie might be saying to Ana. Even if Charlie doesn’t disclose the mission, what if she and Ana discussthe kiss. Women do that, right?
Focus, Davidson.
I ping Ian and ask for access to our database of known associates for every member of the Order. I still can’t place the guy from the bar and I’m hoping he’ll turn up in the photo index.
I’m digging into my inbox when I hear my door open. I pop my head up and look out to the hall. Charlie’s desk is still empty as Oliver walks in. He closes the door and sits down immediately. He leans forwards, his hands steepled, waiting for me to talk.
I tell him about the lounge. Monique’s discreet drop. My movement to intercept and the appearance of an as yet unidentified male who beat me to it. I detail my logic in using the back exit, assuming they had pre-planned on it.
“And did you catch him as he left? Did you overhear anything?” Oliver asks, his gaze unflinching.
The touch of Charlie’s lips on mine, the brush of her cheek, her hair under my palms. The excitement and arousal flash before my mind in an instant.
“No,” I tell him. I offer no explanation as to why. Mercifully, he doesn’t press me.
“Well, on my end, I met with the head of the World Games Organizing Committee this weekend. Based on their security team, they think there is a potential attack lined up for the World Games in Rome,” Oliver discloses.
I nod as the pieces start to fit together in my mind. “Could fit, given Castillo’s planned route on the Italian coast.”
“But it could also be a distraction,” Oliver cautions. “The Order isn’t one for flash-and-bang attacks. There could be a separate group targeting the World Games and it just happens that key members of the Order would be there. Or maybe the Order is switching up their MO.”
