Page 16 of Whistleblower
I wonder if she closes her lids and sees ghosts too. I wonder if she lies awake at night counting the number of bodies like I do, wondering how high I have to count until the world is at peace.
I just want some motherfucking rest.
But it’s midnight, and even in the comfort of my home, I can’t sleep. The hot shower didn’t help. My head is still spinning and my legs are restless.
I need to get out of here.
After twisting the shower handle to “Off” and wrapping a towel around my waist, I find my phone. I call the only other person I’m certain is up this late.
“What’s up?” Lance answers, sounding winded, like he’s on the treadmill.
“Are you back in town, yet?”
“No,” he says breathily, “are you?”
“I’ve been in town…with Vesper.”
“How is she holding up after Frankie?”
“Fine. She just needs time—”
I stop talking when I notice the loud rhythmic banging in the background of his line.
“Are you busy?” I ask.
“No… I mean, yeah. But I have a minute.” He blows out a sharp breath. “So, what time do we have to be there for this meeting on Monday? Have you talked to Cricket?”
I hear a woman moaning in the background as the rhythmic banging picks up, and I realize what he’s busy with.
“Jesus. Eight,” I grumble right before I end the call.
I debate calling Cricket, but I know she’s probably still on a flight. She was out of the country, lingering too long after a job. When I called her two days ago and told her PALADIN officially had a home base and her ass needed to be in an office chair on Monday, she panicked. No one likes to piss off Vesper. She’s mostly maternal but absolutely ruthless when she needs to be…like when Cricket lies to her about where she is and what she’s doing.
Pausing in front of my dresser, I drop my towel. Standing in the dark, alone and naked, I momentarily debate heading to a bar and getting into the same kind of trouble as Lance. But if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not craving a fuck at the moment… Just a conversation.
Once I’ve thrown on a pair of sweatpants, I grab my keys and head out the door. I have no clue where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here…
Alone with all the ghosts.
* * *
After driving around aimlessly for an hour, I end up at the new compound. Vesper showed me around yesterday, but I still don’t feel acquainted. It’s bizarre. The closest PALADIN has ever had to headquarters was a seedy dive bar in the slums of D.C. I miss that place. It reminds me of Suzanne’s. I even ordered a round of Macallan last time Vesper, Cricket, Lance and I were together, in honor of my old friend.
The lobby entry is locked at this time of night, so I have to enter through the emergency stairwell. It’s a little less complicated than the elevator entry. At the emergency exit door that clearly says: Do Not Enter, I scan my badge, let the retina scanner all but blind my left eye, and in we go.
The compound is spacious and there are more offices than we know what to do with. I’m worried that Callen has plans to fill them all. PALADIN is best as a lean team. Admittedly, with only four operatives we’re leaner than desirable at the moment, but I don’t know why he thinks his weak-willed special agents can keep up with us. Vesper and I recruit. We train. We just need some time.
Walking past the main entry, the first thing I notice is the smell of coffee. That’s odd. Overnight security for the compound is completed through surveillance. There should be no one here at this time of night. If someone broke in, Callen would’ve been alerted and I probably would’ve gotten a call to go handle it.
No one is supposed to be here, and yet I see a light spilling through an open office door at the end of the main hallway. I’m suddenly tired as I pace down the hall, fingers in the pocket of my athletic sweats, tapping my finger against the trigger guard of my .22.
I’m really not in the mood to kill anyone tonight, but when duty calls…
Except when I get to the doorway, I halt in place. Standing frozen in the doorway, I examine someone that I am certain, without a doubt, that I will never pull a gun on.
Not now.
Not ever.