Saying a hasty goodbye to Gemma and Andel, I set off for Mac’s office, praying that he was there. Thankfully he was, and his secretary waved me back immediately.

  “Who received the intel about Las Vegas?” I asked, barely through his door.

  Mac looked up, surprised, but recovered quickly. “Penelope’s team at Headquarters,” he answered. “You know that.”

  “Who verified the data?” I continued.

  “A Crypto unit here at School. Why?” Mac seemed impervious to my brash manner.

  “I want to speak with the person who originally found the intel.”

  Mac gave me an exaggerated sigh and rubbed his temples, like I was giving him a headache. “Cal Simmons and his team have been questioned extensively. I am confident that they are not spies.”

  “Not by me,” I pointed out.

  “Natalia, the intel that we received regarding Crane’s presence in Las Vegas was real,” he said it slowly as if I were stupid or hard of hearing. “I explained this all to you already. I have you going through personnel files to find someone with the skills to infiltrate our system because we are certain that the intel was not planted. I do believe that we have a spy. I believe that someone gained access to your mission file and tipped off Crane.”

  “Mac, please,” I insisted. “You said that you wanted results. You said that I should be questioning everyone who could possibly have accessed the information regarding my mission. So, please, let me talk to Cal Simmons.” I thought about willing Mac to let me go, but decided against it at the last minute. Mac really hated it when I did that.

  “What exactly do you hope to learn from Mr. Simmons and his team?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, frustrated. Was I hoping that they’d made a mistake? Even if they had, did it matter?

  “Going to speak with Operative Simmons is a waste of your time, and time is something that we are running out of. His entire team has been vetted by me.” Mac didn’t raise his voice, but the way he clipped each word put my teeth on edge.

  “You said that the investigation was cursory, at best,” I nearly shouted, losing my temper. “You said that it was best not to alarm people. I can question people more comprehensively, and they won’t even know!” The sense of urgency that I’d been feeling ever since Gemma took that call grew with each passing moment. I took a deep breath. “Mac, I’m asking you to trust me. I know that I need to talk to Cal Simmons. I can feel it. Please,” I urged, careful to keep the nasally whine to a minimum.

  Mac studied me for several long seconds. “I’ll arrange it. Be ready to go around dinnertime.”

  I gave him a curt nod and turned to leave.

  “Do you want to talk to Operative Eisenhower as well?” Mac called after me.

  “Huh?”

  “Jennifer Eisenhower was also in the room when Simmons came across the information.”

  I turned slowly back around. “Anyone else?” I asked tersely.

  “If you’d been paying more attention in our first status meeting, you would know,” he gave me a pointed look. Admittedly, I hadn’t been paying much attention in that meeting; I’d been busy thinking ill thoughts towards Donavon.

  “Penelope was also there, of course,” he continued.

  I nodded. I already knew that—it was the only reason Penny had been privy to the specifics of my mission.

  “While you are at it, you might as well speak with the verification team—Grace Howard and Rider Trindel. They worked with Latimore, Simmons, and Eisenhower to compile the intel packet that you were given.”

  “Right, of course,” I stammered. I couldn’t fathom why Mac didn’t have me question all these people before. Sure, some other mind reader had probably questioned them, but I was an Elite-level Talent; I’d know if they were lying.

  “You have two days, Natalia. I firmly believe that this is a waste of time, and I will not have you chasing theories on a whim. I want results, and I want them now.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that he was threatening me. Did he think that I didn’t want results? Did he think that I didn’t want to catch this spy, a hundred times more than he did? He wasn’t the one who’d been strapped to a bed. He wasn’t the one who nearly bled to death. He wasn’t the one who was injected with a cocktail of chemicals that our entire Medical staff couldn’t seem to cure. I wanted to scream at him, make him understand how badly I wanted to find the person responsible for all of those things.

  Instead, I held my tongue and tightly replied, “I understand.”

  “Howard and Trindel work at the Crypto Bank here. I will have my secretary locate them for you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, stiffly. I vaguely recognized their names from my months of sifting through files, but I didn’t recall either of them raising red flags. “Can I get access to the initial interrogation reports and their classified files?” I wanted to review the reports the initial interrogator made after he’d questioned them. I also wanted a look at any additional information the Agency had that might have been termed classified. I wasn’t sure what all was considered classified, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to see it.

  “I will have all of that information sent to your communicator,” he agreed.

  “Thanks, Mac.” I smiled.

  “I do trust your instincts, Natalia,” Mac said, his voice softening. “I just do not want to waste time on theories that have already been pursued. That being said, report any useful findings to me immediately. Call my communicator the minute you find something.”

  “I will,” I readily agreed. He might not be happy about my request, but at least he trusted me enough to let me pursue it.

  I’d already missed Annalise’s class and lunch, so I decided to just skip the rest of my classes, too. I wanted to question Grace and Rider as soon as Mac’s secretary located them before I left for Headquarters.

  I hurried back to my room, packed a bag, and waited impatiently for the files that Mac promised me. Cal Simmons and Jennifer Eisenhower were at Elite Headquarters, which was only a short flight away, but I figured I would be spending the night if I left around dinnertime. I had no idea how long the interrogation sessions would take; but if Ernest’s was any indication, it would be hours.

  Kenly was still in class, so I left her a message with a detailed workout plan for the evening. I felt marginally bad about abandoning my protégé, but this was way more important. Next, I called Erik; another advantage of the trip to Headquarters would be seeing him again. He didn’t answer, so I left him a comm saying that I would be there tonight and asking if he knew Cal or Jennifer. Finally, I called Penny and told her that I would be away for a day or so and that I’d explain when I saw her next.

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  By the time I finished leaving all of my messages, I had two comms from Mac’s secretary. She’d located Grace and Rider; they were both working the two-to-two shift at the School’s Crypto Bank. I checked the time on my communicator: 2:40, perfect timing.

  Grace and Rider proved very easy to find; they were working together in one of the smaller rooms on the main level of the Crypto Bank. I glanced through the glass panel to the right of the door before knocking, and neither Operative was paying much attention to their monitors. All I could see was a pale, bony hand buried in a frizzy mass of blonde hair as the owner of the head and the owner of the hand tried to devour each other’s face while still sitting in their respective computer chairs.

  Stifling my laughter, I raised my hand to knock on the metal door. I banged three times as loudly as I could. The squeak of plastic on plastic assaulted my ears when Grace and Rider jerked their chairs apart. The soft tapping of Grace’s rubber-soled shoes on the marble sounded through the closed door.

  Grace poked her blonde head through. She was several inches taller than me, and her dark eyes narrowed in an impatient glare at my unwelcome intrusion.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, sounding a little flustered.

  Oh, my God, get a room, I thought, irritated.

  “Actually, you can. Are you Grace Howard?”

  “I am,” she replied, cautiously.

  “And your make-out buddy is Rider Trindel?” I hadn’t intended to call her out on what I’d witnessed, but her flippant attitude irritated me.

  “Um, yeah.” She paled further.

  “I’m Talia Lyons.” I saw a spark of recognition cross her expression. “I need to ask you a few questions about the night you verified some intel from Elite Headquarters.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific. We verify intel all the time,” Grace replied glibly.

  “The intel regarding Ian Crane being in Las Vegas, Nevada, about ten months ago.” Grace swallowed thickly, and I knew that she remembered the mission I was talking about.

  “We already gave full reports,” she snapped, defensively.

  I locked her in a penetrating stare. Her right eye twitched nervously, and I invaded her consciousness.

  “You did give reports,” I started, slowly. “But not to me. You want to sit down for me now, and you want to tell me every excruciating detail about the intel that you verified about Ian Crane in Las Vegas,” I coaxed.

  “Of course,” she said, her features going slack under my control.

  Grace opened the door wider, gesturing me inside. The room was much smaller than the one that I used with Penny. There were only two large computer screens hanging on the wall opposite the door with the now-all-too-familiar scrolling lines of gibberish. Two high-backed, black computer chairs sat facing the monitors. The owner of the white hand—Rider, I assumed—was craning to look at me as I entered.

  “Rider Trindel?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said in a small voice.

  I shifted my concentration to him.

  “My name is Talia Lyons. You know who I am, right?” Rider nodded, jerkily.

  “Good. I need you to tell me about the intel you verified regarding my assignment in Las Vegas ten months ago. Do you remember it?” I didn’t have the patience to establish a connection with each Brain so that I could read their thoughts. Actively controlling them would make me tired, but I didn’t care just then.

  Rider nodded again.

  “I remember,” he said slowly.

  “Good. Grace, why don’t you start? Walk me through everything from the beginning.” I used the most soothing, patient voice that I could manage.

  Grace launched into her version of the events, speaking so quickly that I could barely keep up. She explained that she and Rider were working the eleven-to-eleven shift in the main Crypto room that night, and Captain Anderson had called not long after they’d started. He’d told her that Cal Simmons’ unit received intel that needed verification. He sent over the request, and Grace and Rider decrypted the data and analyzed the results; they determined that the intel consisted of partial plans for Coalition President Ian Crane’s stay in Las Vegas, Nevada. Grace had then called Headquarters and reported the findings.

  The next day, both Grace and Rider were ordered to abandon their normal assignments and focus solely on combing all electronic communications for information regarding Ian Crane and Las Vegas. The duo spent the entire week gathering intel on both subjects. They also continued to verify the data found by Cal’s team.

  While I was fairly confident that Grace was telling me the truth since I was compelling her to do so, I also searched her mind for any traces of fabrication. I could tell that there was something she was holding back, but decided not to dig too deeply just yet; I wanted to see inside Rider’s head first.

  Rider’s version of events matched Grace’s to the tee. Still, I could feel that he also wasn’t telling me something. His guilt was stronger than hers, so I dug into his mind first.

  “Rider, do you know Ian Crane?” I asked bluntly.

  “No,” he stammered. “I’ve never met him. I just know about him.” Rider’s blue eyes were wide and innocent looking. I scoured his brain for any signs that he’d met Ian Crane. Finally, seeing nothing, I continued with my questions.

  “Are you a spy for the Coalition?” I demanded. I didn’t see a point in beating around the bush. Grace gasped behind me.

  “What?!” Rider exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with shock. “Of course not!” His tone was indignant, but the images in his mind were scared.

  Rider imagined himself being dragged by two large, faceless men to stand before a judge while she declared him a traitor. Then his mind jumped to scenes of himself strapped to a gurney while an executioner in a black hood injected a dark liquid into his arm.

  I sighed. I could take his morbid images as a sign of guilt, but I had a feeling that he just had an overactive imagination. “Rider, what aren’t you telling me?”

  He hesitated. I was tempted to regain control of his mind and force him to answer me, but images of Ernest in his hospital bed clouded my vision. I needed to be careful; I couldn’t handle it if I turned another innocent person into a vegetable. Gently, I probed Rider’s brain. At last I saw what he was hiding take shape in his mind.

  “What about the encryption seemed off?” I demanded before he could decide whether or not to tell me the truth. My throat felt tight; I knew that this was going to lead me somewhere.

  Grace gave a strangled little yelp behind me, but I didn’t break my focus on Rider.

  “Tell me, Rider,” I ordered. I took control of his mind, not caring about the consequences anymore.

  Rider was weak-willed, thank God, and he relented quickly.

  “The encryption was kinda low-level for that type of information,” he answered.

  “What do you mean low-level?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes in concentration.

  “Well, I’m a pretty strong Higher Reasoning Talent.” His blue eyes shifted over my shoulder to where Grace sat. “I mean, I am an Elite, so I can basically crack any code.”

  “I know what it means to be an Elite,” I snapped. I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump in my veins, urging me into some kind of action.

  “Well, Grace isn’t,” he said softly. “She’s actually an Extremely Low-Level Talent.” He gave her a miserable, apologetic smile, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Suddenly, I got it. The whole scenario flooded to the front of his consciousness.

  Rider helped Grace cheat on her Placement Exams, so that she’d be assigned to the Cryptos and they could be together—they were in love. They’d requested to work together, and volunteered for less-desirable assignments so that Rider could manage most of the workload. All they wanted was to be together, and they’d known that Grace would have been assigned to a remedial position if she ranked poorly on her Placement Exams. Both Grace and Rider knew that the encryption wasn’t very advanced because Grace had easily decoded the transmission.

  Earlier, I’d misread Rider’s images of being branded a traitor; he was feeling guilty. He knew that if anyone ever found out he’d helped Grace cheat, there would be repercussions. Rider felt horrible because he’d chosen to keep their secret instead of admitting that there was something amiss with the encryption. The guilt was eating him up inside; he thought if they had said something then I might not have been sent to Nevada, and I might not have been hurt. He’d never imagined that his omission would have such grave consequences.

  I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. The desire to lash out at both of them was so strong that I wasn’t sure how much longer I could suppress it. I wanted to scream obscenities, let them know just how much their love affair had cost me. Did they really think that keeping their secret was worth risking my life?

  Taking control, I tried to swallow my anger. I needed to stay focused right now. Screaming at them wasn’t going to help. I didn’t know what the punishment for cheating on your placement exams was; but if I had to guess, it was probably a stiff reprimand and reassignment to a more fitting division. Neither penalty was sufficient in my opinion.

  When I looked from Grace to Rider, I saw unbridled fear. The terror emanating from them was palpable. While the prospect of being separated worried them, it was the fear over the punishment that terrified them. Although I was confident that they wouldn’t be declared traitors to the government and executed, I had to wonder if maybe the consequences were more severe than reassignment.

  “I promise I won’t tell.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Was that really a promise that I was prepared to make? Their lie had cost me my future with the Hunters and nearly cost me my life. If I hadn’t gone to Nevada, I wouldn’t have been injected and I wouldn’t be plagued by seizures now; I didn’t want something like that to happen to someone else.

  When I saw the grateful looks that they gave me—and the lovey-dovey eyes they made at one another, the fear hovering right below the surface—I knew that I couldn’t expose their secret. I would figure out a way to ensure that they weren’t assigned any more high-profile cases, but I wouldn’t tell. Briefly, I considered willing them to forget my interrogation, but I decided against it; I wanted them to remember how scared they were, how close they’d come to being discovered. I wanted them to know better next time.