Rather than upload the twenty-seven reports to ALPHA’s secure website, she wanted to get a feel for Carrera’s management style. This was more of a meet-and-greet from ten-thousand feet than a get-in-the-weeds review for each of her targets.
That morning, Carrera had emailed her that they’d meet in Z’s basement office. While it was creepy as hell in the lower level, it was absolutely necessary. As a watcher, she had to stay in the shadows. No one at the Bureau knew she worked there.
Being a watcher was her way of staying connected to ALPHA without actually being in ALPHA. When she’d taken a leave of absence, she’d walked from a job she loved. A safe choice for a vulnerable time in her life.
After entering the FBI building, she held her badge under the scanner, the light flashed green, and she proceeded through to the first guard. After placing her computer satchel on the conveyer belt, she walked through the metal detector, then collected her bag on the other end. As she made her way through the lobby, she spotted her old boss and mentor, Peter Hirzog, chatting with several people in a small group.
Dammit.
She spun around, beelined toward the exit. Since only Z knew the watchers existed, she had no reason to be there, especially unescorted.
Peter Hirzog had been her first supervisor after her training in Quantico and her favorite during her five years as a Special Agent. He spent a lot of time with all his agents helping them navigate their way through a sea of bureaucracy and hierarchies.
Relax. He didn’t see me.
She hurried outside, called Carrera.
“Hey, Simone. Do you need an escort?”
“I’ve got my badge. I almost ran into my old boss, Peter Hirzog. I’ll chill in the coffee shop next door. Can I bring you something?”
“I’m good,” he replied.
Simone hung up, entered the busy eatery. After ordering a coffee, she waited in the pick-up area.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Fred.
I swung by the Bureau to speak with a legend builder about updating our website. Did I just see you in the lobby?????
“Simone!” the barista called out.
I knew the universe would punish me for sleeping with Luciano.
Simone glanced up to see Peter Hirzog holding out her coffee, a big smile plastered on his face. “I think this is yours, Red.”
“Peter,” she said trying to sound surprised.
Hirzog was average height with a fit build and a head of graying hair, parted on the side and held in place with gel. He always wore a dark suit, a white shirt, and a brightly-colored tie. Never without a smile or a positive word, he was highly respected by his peers and subordinates.
“What a great surprise!” he said handing her the hot beverage. “What are you doing here? Tell me you’re thinking of coming back to the Bureau.” Still smiling big, he crossed his fingers.
She forced a chuckle. “I was in the neighborhood, had to grab a cup.”
“You always did like this place,” he said. “If you have a minute, let’s catch up.”
What could she say?
“Sounds great,” she replied.
After they found a table in the corner, he excused himself to collect his drink. Seconds later, he returned, another man by his side.
“Red!” Jerod exclaimed.
“No way.” She pushed out of the chair, extended her hand toward the familiar face.
Former colleague and ATF agent Jerod De Clerq stood there grinning from ear to ear. Ignoring her outstretched hand, he leaned in and hugged her.
Jerod looked more muscular than she’d remembered, maybe even dropped a few pounds. His military-short, light hair was slicked back with gel, his brilliant white teeth popped against his tanned skin.
