It was common practice to meet publicly when meeting with another officer, or an agent from another branch, so no onequestioned me when I walked out of my more-boring-than-me temporary office shortly after ten.
“Hey Winchester, you look like shit,” Gibson said as he approached, a book tucked under his arm. Like me, he wore a suit and tie. Unlike me, he’d chosen shades of brown that worked with his caramel complexion.
I’d left everything CIA issued back in my dingy, brown, hadn’t been updated since the eighties office.
“You don’t look so great yourself, G,” I lied, using his nickname. We’d met at the farm and worked numerous cases together over the years.
He flipped me the bird.
“How’s the nephew’s private school going?”
“Better than expected.”
Just two old friends meeting for coffee. Nothing to see here, folks.
“Good to hear. You buying?” he asked, nodding to the guy serving coffee from the cart.
“Yeah, what are you drinking?”
With large black coffees in hand, we walked to a nearby wooden bench.
“Here’s the book I was telling you about,” Gibson said, handing me the hardcover novel. “It’s a real page turner.”
I glanced at the back cover. “What’s it about?”
“A baby who grows up as a Jane Doe, never knowing she’s the daughter of two superheroes who went missing in the line of duty.”
“Do they solve the mystery, or is there a cliffhanger?”
“Cliffhanger of sorts. The second book goes back in time and tells the origin story of the parents, and ties it all up in a neat bow.”
He’d found something.Or at least a lead.
I glanced at my watch. “Thanks for the lend, I should get back to work,” I said, standing.
Gibson stood too. “Be a good boy scout and remember your bosses don’t like you reading on company time.”
I laughed at his warning as I tucked the book under my arm.
“Grab a beer later?”
“If you’re buying, I’m drinking.”
We shook hands and parted ways. Walking in different directions despite both returning to the same building.
Walking back to the unremarkable, ten-story brick building with tinted windows, I fanned the book pages, ignoring the disc when the sun reflected off its shiny surface.
As I climbed the steps at the front of the building, I let the morning sun warm my face as I glanced around.
No one appeared to be watching.
Doesn’t mean no one is.
I walked through large, double front doors that gave nothing away. I nodded to the security person sitting at the check-in desk before showing my badge to the security guard standing near the elevators.
The large lobby looked like every other corporate building, but it was an illusion.
The security guards here weren’t rent-a-cops; they were highly trained, former special operations soldiers.
