Page 24 of A Touch of Treachery
“Yes, sir.”I raised my hand and snapped off a mock salute.
My father frowned, but I spun away, yanked the door open, and stormed out of his office.
CHAPTER NINE
CHARLOTTE
Afterthedebriefingended,I stalked back to the desk I had been using on level five.My feelings seesawed from anger to determination and back again, with a fair amount of frustration, disgust, and bitterness mixed in, and my mind spun from the emotional vertigo.
Under the watchful eyes of the liaisons and cleaners, I quickly gathered up my things, including my laptop, several folders, and the smoke-stained briefcase I was still carrying around like a child with a stuffed animal.The instant I left the bullpen, whispers sprang up behind me.Spies loved to gossip, and news of my demotion would be all over the building within minutes.Terrific.
I trudged along the corridor and stepped into an elevator.I stared at my own murky reflection in the metal door as the car rose.
By the time the elevator floated to a stop on the third level, my internal seesaw had landed on determination, and I was marginally calmer.I had no choice but to keep my placid mask locked in place.You never knew who was watching at Section 47, and I wouldn’t put it past General Percy to be studying me through a security camera.My having a meltdown and throwing a tantrum would probably please him to no end.
I went down a corridor and swiped my keycard over a reader.The door buzzed open, and I stepped into the level-three bullpen.In many ways, it was a mirror image of the fifth level where the cleaners and liaisons worked.A long, wide aisle running past cubicles cordoned off with clear plastic walls.A couple of glassed-in offices and a conference room along the back wall.People of all ages, shapes, sizes, and ethnicities typing on laptops or murmuring into phones.
Yes, in many ways, this area was exactly like level five, but I’d always thought the analysts and charmers had far more personality and flair than the cleaners and liaisons, at least when it came to their workspaces.Family photos, movie posters, and calendars featuring cute animals doing yoga decorated many of the cubicle walls, while everything from crocheted superheroes to autographed footballs to snow globes adorned the desks.
Grandma Jane always said you could learn a lot just by studying how people decorated their personal spaces, and I’d used her advice more than once to figure out something someone didn’t want me to know.
At the sound of my footsteps, several folks peered past their laptop screens.A few surprised hums sounded, and a couple of folks started typing on their keyboards, no doubt emailing their friends about my stunning fall from grace.Everyone knew my returning to the third level could only mean I had been demoted.
I tightened my grip on my belongings, lifted my chin, and marched down the center aisle.
A few folks waved at me, including Ronaldo and Helga, who were analysts like me, tasked with using their own unique forms of synesthesia to study reports from Section agents, looking for patterns and actionable intelligence.
I returned the waves, ignored the curious looks and snide whispers, and walked to the back of the bullpen.Even though I’d been working on level five for the last few months, no one had claimed my old desk, and it was empty, except for the standard office equipment—a monitor, a mouse, a keyboard, a landline phone, and a place to plug in my Section-issued laptop.
I dumped my things on the desk, then reached into my pocket and drew out a small crystal mockingbird.The beautiful keepsake had been a gift from Grandma Jane the day I had started working at Section 47, and it was always on my desk, no matter where that desk happened to be.Grandma Jane had meant the figurine to be a visual reminder that people could sing more than one tune, just like a mockingbird could mimic the songs of other birds, and that folks in the spy world were often not what they seemed.
Jethro Percy certainly fell into that category.On the surface, he seemed like your usual blustering leader, blowing into town certain he could right the company ship that was in danger of sinking.But Desmond and I had been tracking Henrika Hyde for months, so why had Percy shown up now?
I didn’t know, but I was going to find out why Percy had suddenly taken such a keen interest and a starring role in my and Desmond’s mission.And it was stillourmission.I didn’t care what Percy said, did, or threatened.I was going to find Henrika and make her tell me everything she knew about my father’s doomed mission.Then she was going to pay for everything she’d done to Desmond.
I plugged in my laptop, then sorted through the folders and other items I’d brought from the fifth level.
The twenty-something woman in the neighboring cubicle swiveled her chair toward me.She was on the petite side, with dark brown eyes, dark brown skin, and black hair that was pulled back in a ponytail.She was wearing a dark blue pantsuit, although a T-shirt for a popular local rock band peeked out from beneath her jacket.Ticket stubs from concerts were sitting in a glass cup on her desk, flanked by toy guitars and pianos.A classical tune drifted out of the headphones hooked around her neck.
“Hey, Charlotte.”Mika Doleni smiled at me.
Mika was a linguist, aka a lingo, someone who could read, write, speak, and understand any language.Something that came in handy when transcribing chatter from paramortal villains and trying to figure out the code words they used to communicate.
My synesthesia surged.My vision flickered, and Mika melted away, replaced by a woman with long red hair and rosy skin sitting in that same chair and smiling at me.Miriam Lancaster, the charmer I’d thought had been my friend but who had really been a mole.
My gaze zipped over to the front of the bullpen and landed on the spot where Miriam’s body had fallen after Desmond had shot her to save me.My vision flickered again, and suddenly, I could see Miriam lying on the floor, blood oozing out of the bullet wound in her head, her hazel eyes already glassy with death.
I shivered and looked away from the phantom image.Even though Miriam had been responsible for the deaths of other agents and had been willing to kill me to escape, part of me still missed the charmer, missed the part of her that had been my friend—if that part had even existed at all and hadn’t been just another illusion that Miriam had projected with her paramortal charisma.
Mika cleared her throat, drawing my attention.
“I’m sorry.What did you say?”
She gestured at the folders on my desk.“Are you back here now?As a ...level-three analyst?”
She was asking if I’d been demoted.Mika was kinder about it than most folks would have been, but I still had to resist the urge to throw something.
“Yep.My assignment on the fifth level ended, and I’m back here full-time again.”
