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“Respectfully, they probably did,” she said in her no-nonsense cop voice, dispelling all of his nonsense thoughts. “Did Tate show you the memo?” At his nod she continued. “We’re all experiments. For some reason my body rejected the nanites, and Cali’s aren’t activated, at least according to that document. Do you think they’re the ones who hit you with the car?”

Both the abrupt segue and her question took him aback. He hadn’t even considered that the traffic accident had been intentional. But it wasn’t like things hadn’t been thrown at him a million miles a minute so far.

He shook his head, not so much in negation as in bewilderment. “I just don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything right now, and I don’t like it.”

“Well, Dev’s got a whole file on this.” She looked around the space. “Looks like Tate took his tablet with him. Let me go grab another one from the office and you can read up a little bit, see if anything strikes a chord. Then maybe I can answer any questions you have as we go.”

A wave of relief swept over him. That was action he could take. It wasn’t him spinning in circles in his head, wondering who he was and what had happened since that fateful day eight months ago.

Jordan disappeared down the hall and emerged a moment later with a laptop, a tablet and a legal pad with a pen clipped to the front page. She handed them over and used her thumb to open the tablet. “Has Dev taken your fingerprints?” He nodded. “Cool. The system may not be updated yet, so start with this.” She gestured to the notepad. “I thought you might want to take notes or write down your questions.”

She shrugged as if her thoughtfulness was no big deal, then moved to the dining room table where she could spread out more and opened the laptop, thumbprinting herself into the system before she started clicking away, diving into whatever she was doing.

He felt a strange surge of relief that she wasn’t pressuring him to think more. To be more. Felt oddly warmed that she’d brought him something to write on.

He navigated the files on the tablet, catching up on the very little they knew.

As he did, he wrote questions on the notepad, doodling between the words as he read. With one page full of notes and a series of drawings of a set of interlocking rings, he flipped to the next page, and as he did, he remembered the fact he’d always drawn, even as a little kid. Doodles had turned to outright art, but being a healer had called to him more than the artist had.

Why had he forgotten a pleasurable pastime? That made no sense when he remembered so many other things until the events of the last year. Curiouser and curiouser.

He made sure to note the fact he’d just remembered his art. It seemed important, somehow, then turned his attention back to the computer.

Everything the team had collected regarding the C-17 crash and the aftermath spawned more questions than answers, but he read every word as Jordan made little humming noises while she worked through other files.

Weirdly, he didn’t mind the noise. He actually found it kind of soothing, and comfort spread through his body like he hadn’t felt since he’d awakened in that car. Not even when Beth had wrapped her arms around him.

~

Jordan looked at the familiar number on her phone’s display as the text notification dinged. Recognition and instant dread slithered down her spine. It was her confidential informant, Cassandra.

La Sombra saw you on the news. You’ve got a bounty.

Well fuck, Jordan thought. How much?

50K. If I didn’t like you so much I’d do it myself.

“What’s wrong?” Benny’s voice came from right next to her. She hadn’t even heard him move.

She looked up into those eyes that were so familiar and yet so strange, and even with that strangeness, felt a sense of security. Because Benny had always had her back. Did, even now, without realizing what he was doing.

“Hold on a second,” she said, and began typing a response.

I owe you. I’m going deep now. Stay safe.

Cassandra sent a praying hands emoji in response.

Jordan very carefully put the phone down on the table and blew out a breath. “My cover’s blown. I disguised myself pretty well in the last undercover op, and I wasn’t exactly a huge player, more a mid-level newcomer, but I was recognized. There’s a bounty on me.”

Dev chose that moment to walk through the elevator doors and heard her last words.

“Well, fuck,” he said almost cordially, unconsciously repeating her inner thought. “It’s a complication, but I can work with it. It dovetails with one of the plans I came to discuss.” He looked around the penthouse, noting it was only the three of them. “Rouse Tate and Beth so I can lay it out once.”

Jordan stood quickly, unperturbed by Dev’s brusqueness, since most of the time she was the same way. Get to the point and then move on. “I’ll get them,” she said, and stepped into the hallway.

She stopped once the men were out of sight and leaned against the wall for a long moment, gulping in a deep breath of air, anything to steady her racing heart. God damn it, she was blown. She’d worked her ass off in that assignment, had put her life on the line, and now it was gone in a puff of smoke.

Lobbying for undercover work after Benny’s death had made sense, especially because it felt good to be a different person. It had made her new life without him somewhat bearable. Now it was just one more thing for IA to add to their list. Another black mark against her, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.