Skin Deep

The hot water beat down on her face. She stood, motionless, letting the heat seep into her, letting it reach deep beneath the skin where she could feel. Drying off, she felt better, physically anyway. The steam from the shower fogged the mirror, blurring her image. For a moment, she remembered what she’d looked like in her youth.

She slipped into bed, feeling the cool, crisp, white cotton sheets, noting the designer bedcover, and taking in the room meticulously styled in tones of soft creams and beige with splashes of maroon and bright yellow. Perfect.

Something had to change.

She turned out the light. With the drapes closed, the studio apartment plunged into darkness punctuated by the phosphorescent glow of the alarm clock. She wondered what she would have done in Sanchez’s position. What would her last words be? A cry of pain? For love? She murmured a sad laugh in the dark. She didn’t know Sanchez or his life, but she knew hers. She was lying alone in the dark in an empty, sterile apartment with no one. She would have done what he had done, tried to complete a mission. It was all she had, pathetic as it was.

The years piled up, the missions, the plans, and, every time, she stepped forward. Every time, she did her duty. For the Guild. For InterSec. Sometimes she had provided the means for great things to happen, only a very few knowing about it. Sometimes she had done those great things herself, with even fewer people knowing. Her life had become a cycle of stress, endless games of subterfuge, and feints. Nothing ever truly resolved. Things got worse. Things got better. It didn’t matter which, because there was always something more to do.

And she never said no. Not during undercover operations. Not during armed conflicts. Not when the Guild wanted one thing, and InterSec wanted another. Whatever the request, she managed to satisfy everyone else.

Everyone ended up satisfied but her. She had people she trusted with her life, who weren’t actually her friends. She had friends to whom she couldn’t talk about her life. At the end of the day, she lay down on many different beds, and home had become not the comfort of an apartment, but a windowless room that everyone else thought was a closet in an office building.

Something had to change. She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello?” Sinclair answered.

“It’s me. Are you okay?” she asked.

He chuckled in her ear. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m bunking in an examining room at the Guildhouse until Terryn can decide if I’ll see the light of day again.”

“I didn’t get a chance to see you before I left,” she said.

“You should be glad you’re alive and asleep after what you went through.”

“I am,” she said.

“You’re asleep?” he teased.

She laughed. “No, you jerk. I’m glad I’m alive.”

He lowered his voice. “Me, too.”

She closed her eyes and listened to his slow steady breathing on the other end of the phone.

“You there?” he asked.

“Yes. I just wanted to say good night, Jono.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.”

She replaced the phone on the cradle. As she slid deeper under the covers, she realized she was smiling and realized it was for herself.

For a change, she thought.

CHAPTER 30

LAURA STRODE TOWARD the Anacostia station house. A formidable Mariel Tate reflected back at her from the windowed doors-sharp heels, streamlined jumpsuit, large sunglasses, all black. Two Dana

She started the day in the Mariel Tate apartment, going through the motions of making breakfast, straightening the apartment, and getting dressed. She moved without thinking, focusing on the routine of preparing for the day. The closer she got to leaving the apartment, the more her thoughts shifted to the day’s agenda. As the events of the previous night replayed in her mind, anger grew, a low simmer that rose until she found herself pacing the floor, ready for a fight.

People knew things they weren’t telling. For all the suspicions in the D.C. SWAT squad, no one pressed their issues, no one questioned people’s actions. Everyone did what she was doing: waiting for someone else to make the next move, waiting for an excuse to take action. By the time she left the apartment, she’d decided enough was enough. She was not waiting for the next incident to happen or for new information to be handed to her. She wanted answers, and she was going to get them. Captain Aaron Foyle was the place to start, whether he liked it or not.

Inside the doors to the station house, she held her InterSec badge out to the desk duty sergeant. “Mariel Tate, InterSec. I’m here to see Captain Foyle. Immediately.”

The desk sergeant’s neutral face hid resentment at her tone. “I’ll see if he’s in.”

“I’m not waiting,” Laura said. She walked past the desk, grasped the secured door and shot a burst of essence into it. The lock cycled and opened.

“Hey!” the sergeant shouted. He jumped from his seat, reaching for his gun.

Ignoring him, Laura continued inside, holding her InterSec badge high enough for the surrounding officers to see. Behind her, a Dana

The Dana

“InterSec, stand down,” Laura said. The perimeter of her shield hit them from five feet away and thrust them to the side, pressing them against the walls as she passed.

Foyle stood at the door to his office, hands on his hips. “What seems to be the problem, Agent Tate?”

“We need to talk,” she said, backing him toward his desk.

No one comes in, she sent to the Dana

“Salvatore Gia

“He didn’t show for roll call this morning,” said Foyle.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said.

“I don’t know where he is. This is my office, Tate. Cut the bullshit before I have to explain why I had an entire squad room open fire on you,” he said.

Truth resonated in his voice. He didn’t know where Gia

Foyle looked confused as he moved behind his desk. “What’s going on?”

Relaxed, Laura crossed her legs. “Gia

“What’s your evidence?”

Laura shook her head. “Need-to-know. You’re not on that list. I want some answers from you, though. You had an undercover agent on your team. Who knew and when?”

Foyle grabbed his phone. “This conversation is over.”

Without moving, Laura sent a burst of essence at the phone and knocked it across the room. “I asked you a question, Captain. We can do this here or I can take you in under suspicion of aiding and abetting.”

Foyle went slack-jawed. “Are you crazy?”

Laura gave him a cold smile. “Don’t make this difficult.”

Fear finally started to register with him. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious. Answer my question,” she said.

“I received information that Janice Crawford was sent to infiltrate my team,” he said.