With a Pull of a Trigger

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Gil sighed. “Thank you.”

Everett stood up, brushing off invisible lint on his pristine suit. Gil swiftly followed, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on his own charcoal-gray suit.

Everett reached into his suit jacket pocket, a small silver metallic box appearing in his hand. “Make sure you’re alone when you finally use this,” he said, handing Gil the box. “Call me if you have more questions.”

“I will,” Gil said, putting the metal box in his suit jacket pocket. “Thank you.”

Everett nodded. “I can only hope that I’m doing the right thing.”

“Wait,” called out Gil. “Who are you?”

Everett looked back, smiled. “Everett Hadwell, Director of the CIA.”

And then Everett walked away, leaving Gil standing in a park at nine in the morning.

Washington D.C., United States of America

The Washington Monument was, as usual, filled with tourists. Despite the noise though, Reini was still thankful for the groups of people that never seemed to lessen because they were part of the reason why she chose the landmark as their meeting place.

For an agent, a person like her who had been trained to be a chameleon, it was always easiest to hide in plain sight.

Reini sat on the hard bench, looking at the people paying her no mind, at the tourists who had their cameras hanging on their necks, at the monument itself.

The sun was hidden behind fluffy white clouds, the trees with its yellowing leaves looking absolutely scenic. The birds were chirping, and Reini found herself smiling as she just looked around, not feeling the weight of everything she had to do and every responsibility she had on her shoulders.

“You’re blond today.”

Reini looked at the man in a three-piece suit taking his seat beside her.

Rard looked at her, crossing his legs. “I must say; it doesn’t suit you.”

Reini chuckled, shaking her head before directing her gaze to the people before her. “Funny, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

A moment of silence passed, the two content to just sit in the normalcy of the scene before them.

“They’re worried about you. Extremely. I hear Van Kamp’s gone all batshit crazy with Miss Aspen because you left.”

Reini sighed. “I figured as much. Greg is the type of person to worry.”

Another moment of silence. It wasn’t comfortable, or the sort to pass by unnoticed. It was full of tension and emptied of any kind of friendly regard.

Rard reached into his suit jacket, bringing out a disc case. “These are all the files I could pull out. The Alliance is strict about these things—pulling other details about this man’s harder than you think. It requires level three clearance. These were all the things I could get.”

Reini nodded, taking the disc. “Thank you.”

“Why are you doing this, Saunders? Leaving without a single warning?”

Reini sighed, her hands balling into fists on her lap. Her posture was tense, her voice filled with barely restrained anger. “There is a reason for what I’m doing, Davis. I need answers. I’m getting them for myself because if I don’t, I’ll be kept in the dark.”

“So what, you decide to just up and vanish?”

“I have to!” Reini said, barely managing to stop her words from being shouted. “You won’t understand, Davis. And frankly, I don’t care if you don’t.”