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Dex headed for the front steps, and Ash followed.

“You sure you want to tell him?”

“Yeah.” Dex unlocked the front door and turned to him with a smile. “No more secrets. That’s our new motto.”

“Sounds like you two are finally getting it. Took you long enough.” He followed Dex inside and closed the door behind him. He hung up his coat and scarf. “I really hope Shultzon is wrong about this.” He joined Dex in the living room and took a seat. “I remember the good old days when we issued high-risk warrants, knocked down barricades, and kept watch at Therian peace marches. Now everyone’s trying to fucking blow us up.”

“I’ve been thinking about something Shultzon said. How whoever’s working on this off the books is using specialist agents. Remember the scopolamine Austen had?”

Ash nodded. “Actually, it crossed my mind earlier. When you asked him if the THIRDS gave it to him, he looked pissed and avoided answering.”

“Do you think Austen’s involved?” Dex asked worriedly.

“I hope not. I’d like to think he’s smarter than that.”

“Smarts have nothing to do with it. We don’t even know what the hell Austen’s job entails besides spying on us. I know Sloane trusts him, and the two go way back, but Austen’s not a kid anymore. What if he’s not the same guy he once was?”

Ash let his head fall back against the couch’s backrest with a sigh. He sure fucking hoped Austen wasn’t involved in this shit. Dex had a point. Austen wasn’t a little kid anymore. He’d been with the THIRDS since Sloane found him. Who the hell knew what he’d learned and done in that time since joining? Austen was skilled. He had to be in order to cut it as a Squadron Specialist Agent. Those agents were fucking shadows. Deadly shadows. Ash could hazard a guess what kind of black-ops shit they were involved in. One thing was certain, if it turned out Austen was involved, it would break Sloane’s heart.

HOW THE fuck did he get himself into these messes? This was all going to end so damn badly. He just knew it.

Austen heard the faint click of the lock and cautiously lowered the handle. The hallway of the office building was shrouded in darkness. Not a problem for a Therian. He listened intently. Nothing. Slipping inside the east wing, he kept close to the wall. He pressed himself against the hard surface and silently stalked toward the closest empty room. Operating quickly, he worked the lock and hurried inside, then closed the door quietly behind him. With his lock-pick set secure in the pocket of his black tac pants, he hopped onto the metal table, snatched his collapsible steel baton from his belt, and snapped his wrist. It extended and locked into place. Standing on his toes, he reached up and used the end of the baton to release the vent cover. Thank goodness for old buildings.

There wasn’t much time. He returned the now collapsed baton to his utility belt, jumped, and grabbed hold of the edges. He swung his legs and used the wall in front of him to push himself up into the vent. It was a bitch due to his height, and he struggled, but he made it in without any noise. Once inside he closed the latch and crawled three feet until he was above the room he needed. Holding his breath, he lightly tapped the side of the vent once. Seconds later there was one faint knock. Receiving the signal, he unlatched the cover and peeked through. His contact was alone in the room. Austen slipped through the opening and dropped down onto the floor, landing without a sound.

“I don’t have long,” his contact whispered, handing Austen the credit-card-sized case. “We’re going to hav

e to move sooner than anticipated.”

“Shit.”

“Word is some THIRDS agents have been asking questions about the drug. If they start snooping around, ten years of hard work goes down the pan, and we have nothing. Tell the boss we need to move on this.”

“We’ve kept it from the THIRDS this long, so don’t worry about them. We’ll take care of it. I’ll get this back to the boss. You just get ready to move.” Austen headed back toward the vent he’d come from. As soon as their contact had slipped out, Austen did the same, returning the way he’d come in through the office building and its piss-poor security. Then again, too much security would end up drawing unwanted attention. In the cover of darkness, no one saw him or suspected he was even there, same as his previous visits. Damn it. It was too soon to move. Everything had been planned out to the smallest detail, and now they’d have to deviate from that plan. His boss hated deviating from the plan.

Making sure no one had seen him, Austen hailed a cab and gave the driver directions. He switched taxis three times before he ended up at his appointed destination. He sat on the bench and pulled out his smartphone. After he tapped in his security code, he turned the phone on its side and scanned the case. Small blue letters scrolled across the screen at unreadable speeds until it stopped. The words “Scan Complete” flashed green. No tracers. Good. He tucked the case into the hidden pocket inside his winter coat and sent out a text.

Plain bagel.

Austen waited for his boss to show up. Why did he always have to be the bearer of bad news? A black Suburban with pitch-black windows pulled up to the curb. This was it. He tugged his wool hat low over his eyes and climbed into the front passenger seat.

“We’ve got a problem,” Austen said, removing the case from the hidden pocket inside his winter coat. The car took off, and Austen pressed the case to the console’s digital screen. It scanned the device and beeped once. Clean. He already knew it was, but his boss was very particular. “Apparently THIRDS agents have been asking questions.”

As expected, his boss was pissed, judging by her white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

“Find out who it is and do what you need to do to put an end to it.”

“Come on. I think we both know who it is.”

“Damn it. Those boys just don’t know when to quit.”

Austen smiled. “That’s why you like them so much.”

Sparks pulled into an empty parking spot down a quiet street and put the car in park. She turned to look at him, her blue eyes cold as ice. “We’ve worked too damn long and too damn hard to let this fall apart now. I want you to keep an eye on them. Make sure they don’t cause us any problems. They’re back on duty Monday morning. I’ll keep them busy. No more close calls. We get this done. Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Here we go. “Our man thinks we’re going to have to move on this.”

“Goddamn it, Austen.”

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