Without thinking too much about my decision, I got out of my car and used my badge to enter the building after hours. The atrium was a large space with sleek glass walls. Etched into the marble floor were the scales of justice, ominous and weighty. Exhausted-looking agents headed for the exit, blindly crossing the scales of justice, trampling them. The building was never really empty, and there was always something going down on one case or another.
I had to pass my cubicle, and Lance’s, on the way. They both sat empty, of course. Unimpressive spaces for the rookies. Really, no part of the building looked glamorous or shiny the way they did in the movies. We were more about budget restrictions and safety protocols.
At least, we had been, until Hennessey had arrived with his high profile case and planned tactical maneuvers. He was the closest I’d ever seen to the romantic ideal of a law enforcement officer, all honor and intelligence. But even though I believed in him, I wondered if there was a dark side. How far would he go to see Carlos behind bars? Would he shoot first and ask questions later? Would I?
The sparse temporary office Hennessey had been using was empty, but the light was on, indicating he hadn’t left for the day. The sound of voices lured me farther down the hall, toward Brody’s office. As I got closer, I could hear the menace underlying both masculine voices. A thread of worry wound its way through my body, touching off a rapid heartbeat. This building saw its share of bravado and male posturing, but this was sharper.
I stood in front of the door. Someone spoke angrily, in a burst I couldn’t comprehend. The other person responded something about a fire, and going down in flames—though whether that was a hypothetical inferno, I didn’t know.
I knocked. The voices quieted.
Brody’s voice. “Come in.”
Pressing inside, I saw Hennessey standing by the window, looking out. Even in the small office, he’d found the place with a view. The tense lines of his body spoke of his frustration. Brody also had a pissed off expression, but then that was pretty much normal. He wore his cynicism like a second skin. I had only ever seen him earnest once before.
“Sorry,” I said, apologizing for the intrusion. Even though I’d done it on purpose. If it was about the case, I had a right to know. And if it was about me…well, I should know that too. “Is there something I can help with?”
“Yes.” Brody nodded. “We’ve received intel that the drop is going to be made tonight. We’re going to have to move quickly to catch them.”
From the side of the office, Hennessey made a hiss of frustration. “And work blind, since we don’t have time to get the snipers in place.”
“We have good men. Sorry,” Brody added to me. “And women.”
Hennessey shook his head, his displeasure evident in the hard set of his face, the metallic fire in his eyes. “If we can even get all of them in. If they answer their cell phones and get their asses into the office in the next hour. If they haven’t been drinking or a hundred other things that could keep them from being alert.”
Brody’s eyes darkened. “I’m sure you’ll adjust the plan accordingly. You are the lead of this operation.”
Hennessey snorted in derision. “Right, which means you override the most important decision. And if I step down, you’ll do it anyway, and the whole thing will be a clusterfuck.”
“It’s your decision,” Brody said placidly.
Hennessey pointed at him. “If we lose an agent, this is on your head.”
“Don’t lose sight of the objective, Hennessey.” Brody’s eyes glittered. “We’re here to nail Carlos to the wall, and how are you going to do that if he comes and goes before you’re even in position? He’s moving now, so you move now.”
Hennessey stared at him coldly, and I held my breath. I half expected him to tell Brody to go fuck himself. At least then he wouldn’t have the professional responsibility of said clusterfuck. But finally he gave a short nod and headed into the hallway.
I stood to follow him, but Brody cleared his throat. My eyebrow rose. An unspoken challenge filled the room as I waited for my boss to speak. As I waited for him to give himself away.
He paused, as if deciding how much to say. “It’s important we move on this guy now. Now, before he goes underground.”
Curiosity pierced my frustration. “Sir?”
Leaning forward, he spoke lower. “What I said before, about the unrest within his organization, it’s getting worse. And fast. They’re either dying or disappearing, like rats running for cover.”
“And you think Laguardia might go underground?”
It was an interesting idea, that he might go someplace we’d never find him. Undercover. He’d never pay for his crimes, but technically, if he stopped committing them, that would at least be an improvement. Still, it wouldn’t reflect well on the Bureau for him to slip away—again. Besides, criminals usually needed to keep committing crimes due to whatever compulsion had led them to start.
Brody’s voice dropped to a murmur. “This isn’t public knowledge yet, but Daniel Fuentes, the guy you interviewed?”
My eyes widened. In my mind, a snapshot flashed of a genial Santa Claus in an orange jumpsuit. The image skipped ahead to the soulless blank stare.
“He’s dead,” I said, already sure. “How?”
“Apparent suicide.”