boss started his coffee machine.
ODNI’s Senior Case Officer sat in her chair just for a minute, careful to keep her gloves on while she handled the access and identification cards. Why, oh why did I ever remove these from the scene? The answer was self-supplied and immediate. It happened because even you can sometimes be susceptible to panic, Agent Hildebrandt.
Once the cards were sealed inside the plastic, with no hair or even a skin cell along for the ride, she could relax at least a little. Enjoy the feeling while you can . She looked through her doorway at the hall—one leading past his office too—and knew her brief respite would not last.
Boone sighed. He thinks I’m mad at him. He has no idea why I should be, and right now is marking it up to the vagaries of the female psyche. If I don’t get in there soon, he will come down here, wanting to make things right. This conversation needs to take place in his office, not mine. She got up and removed her driving gloves, laying them on her desk. The evidence bag was already tucked back inside her jacket. Okay, Boone, let’s do this.
Entering with a graceful swivel, she kicked up the stop and closed the door he had just propped open. He was standing by his window, looking out at the lights of the Liberty Crossing campus while he waited for the java to stream into readiness. Boone approached him, not quite closing into his personal space, though.
“Terrence, dear,” she began, “we need to talk.”
“I know, Boone … about last night—”
Oh dear God. I only wish it was the most we had to worry about. “Oh, yes, last night … we both know it would be better if last night never happened, the usual stellar performances all around notwithstanding.” Hoorah, as the Marines say.
As he turned around, she could see a wry smile forming on his face. At least he knows now I’m not planning to be pissy about it.
Boone continued. “But, you beautiful man, we do need to make another of our long series of understandings.” Her hand, she realized, was on her hip. Expectant … assured … what a Senior should be. It seemed to be working.
“We deal every day with things happening on a need-to-know basis, Boone. It will be all business in the office. If you have me in your bed again, I’ll know what to expect there. I don’t doubt you will return the consideration when you’re on the job . ”
She nodded, biting her lip with her best businesslike expression on display. “Done, sir .” He turned for his coffee machine, with what she was sure he had perceived to be the difficult business of the morning finished. So … here comes the surprise of the day . “All being said, we still need to talk … about what I found at DARIUS,” she informed him as he poured. She approached his desk.
“Ah, yes. What did you find?” he asked, sipping as he moved to his Director's chair and sat.
Reaching into her side jacket pocket, Boone palmed the three 9mm empties nestling there, and plunked them down onto his blotter. He knew what they were, of course. He put his coffee down onto the same pad.
Good, she thought . I don’t need to make this a spit-take.
“Boone … what did you do?” he asked, his eyes on the cartridge cases.
“I killed a White House staffer and another technician in the DARIUS server room as they were rigging an external data transfer, probably straight to Moscow. The guards those two anesthetized are awake by now. It’s only a matter of time before someone checks the data racks and finds my mess.”
Boone had seen Terrence Bain Bradley without words before, but usually it was because she had been keeping his mouth busy with one pleasurable task or another. He took a moment to digest the information. She was certain he wanted to stop dreaming and wake up.
“I assume you had a damn good reason.”
“They were going to Taser me, just as they had the night guards. The technician was out of his ketamine syringes by then, but the staffer had
ODNI’s Senior Case Officer sat in her chair just for a minute, careful to keep her gloves on while she handled the access and identification cards. Why, oh why did I ever remove these from the scene? The answer was self-supplied and immediate. It happened because even you can sometimes be susceptible to panic, Agent Hildebrandt.
Once the cards were sealed inside the plastic, with no hair or even a skin cell along for the ride, she could relax at least a little. Enjoy the feeling while you can . She looked through her doorway at the hall—one leading past his office too—and knew her brief respite would not last.
Boone sighed. He thinks I’m mad at him. He has no idea why I should be, and right now is marking it up to the vagaries of the female psyche. If I don’t get in there soon, he will come down here, wanting to make things right. This conversation needs to take place in his office, not mine. She got up and removed her driving gloves, laying them on her desk. The evidence bag was already tucked back inside her jacket. Okay, Boone, let’s do this.
Entering with a graceful swivel, she kicked up the stop and closed the door he had just propped open. He was standing by his window, looking out at the lights of the Liberty Crossing campus while he waited for the java to stream into readiness. Boone approached him, not quite closing into his personal space, though.
“Terrence, dear,” she began, “we need to talk.”
“I know, Boone … about last night—”
Oh dear God. I only wish it was the most we had to worry about. “Oh, yes, last night … we both know it would be better if last night never happened, the usual stellar performances all around notwithstanding.” Hoorah, as the Marines say.
As he turned around, she could see a wry smile forming on his face. At least he knows now I’m not planning to be pissy about it.
Boone continued. “But, you beautiful man, we do need to make another of our long series of understandings.” Her hand, she realized, was on her hip. Expectant … assured … what a Senior should be. It seemed to be working.
“We deal every day with things happening on a need-to-know basis, Boone. It will be all business in the office. If you have me in your bed again, I’ll know what to expect there. I don’t doubt you will return the consideration when you’re on the job . ”
She nodded, biting her lip with her best businesslike expression on display. “Done, sir .” He turned for his coffee machine, with what she was sure he had perceived to be the difficult business of the morning finished. So … here comes the surprise of the day . “All being said, we still need to talk … about what I found at DARIUS,” she informed him as he poured. She approached his desk.
“Ah, yes. What did you find?” he asked, sipping as he moved to his Director's chair and sat.
Reaching into her side jacket pocket, Boone palmed the three 9mm empties nestling there, and plunked them down onto his blotter. He knew what they were, of course. He put his coffee down onto the same pad.
Good, she thought . I don’t need to make this a spit-take.
“Boone … what did you do?” he asked, his eyes on the cartridge cases.
“I killed a White House staffer and another technician in the DARIUS server room as they were rigging an external data transfer, probably straight to Moscow. The guards those two anesthetized are awake by now. It’s only a matter of time before someone checks the data racks and finds my mess.”
Boone had seen Terrence Bain Bradley without words before, but usually it was because she had been keeping his mouth busy with one pleasurable task or another. He took a moment to digest the information. She was certain he wanted to stop dreaming and wake up.
“I assume you had a damn good reason.”
“They were going to Taser me, just as they had the night guards. The technician was out of his ketamine syringes by then, but the staffer had
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