âMaybe we could just . . . reschedule this interview for a little later. I do have some appointments I should reallyââ
âMr. Moore, this isnât a social visit. We donât reschedule at your convenience.â Rowan challenged Oliver with his eyes. And Oliver didnât like it. He didnât like it one bit. He felt his hand forming a fist and quickly focused all his energy on stretching the fingers apart. He turned to Agent Morrow and smiled.
âAgent Morrow, please,â Oliver said sweetly. âYou can understand how difficult for me this is, canât you? Donât you think you might be able to speak with your partner here about relaxing his attitudeâ?â
âMoore,â Rowan snapped. He shot up out of his chair and stepped much closer to Oliverâs face. âAre we having a communication problem here, Moore? I think weâre having a communication problem. Because I just need you to answer the questions. Thatâs it. That is all.The equation could not be simpler. You tell us where the missing files on Gaia are, and we leave. Do you understand? Simple. Cut-and-dried. Where are those files?â Rowan thrust his hand forward and stuck his digital recorder back into Oliverâs face.
Suddenly Oliver found himself reexamining Rowanâs deeply frustrated eyes. And his slightly wrinkled suit. And his slightly loosened tie.
Because Oliver Moore had been with the CIA for many years in another life. And âAgentâ Rowan had just broken Agency protocol with almost every word heâd said. âAgentâ Rowan had suddenly seemed much less like an agent and much more like a man who was hungry for information. Information that the CIA should have given him alreadyâif he was in fact with the Agency. . . .
âIâm sorryâwho are you again?â Oliver uttered suspiciously. He faced down âAgentâ Rowan as he pushed the recorder out of his face.
There was the slightest delay in Rowanâs reply. â Excuse me?â he asked indignantly.
âI said, who are you? â Oliver repeated, his eyes beginning to narrow. âIf you have a badge, Iâd like to see it. Because Iâll tell you one thing: Youâre not CIA.â Now he wasnât working quite so hard to keep his fist from clenching. In fact, he wasnât working at all.
Rowan glanced back to Morrow momentarily, who seemed unsure how to react. âMr. Moore . . . Iâm not surewhat exactly you are trying to pull here, but I suggest you stop it right now. We really donât want to have toââ
âTo what? â Oliver spat. âTo take me down to headquarters? Where are headquarters, âAgentâ Rowan? Do you know? Can you tell me?â
âMr. Moore, I think youâre acting a bit unstable here.â
âDo you?â
âYes, I do.â
âThen why donât you take me in?â Oliver presented his wrists to Rowan. âI suggest you take me in right now, Agent Rowan, before I turn any more unstable.â
Rowan began to back away slowly from Oliver. âMr. Moore, I am warning you. Stay calm. I believe youâre becoming paranoid right now, and it is important that you remain calm. Peter . . . â Rowan was signaling for Morrow to get involved, but Morrow didnât seem any more confident about what to do, either.
âWho are you working for?â Oliver demanded. âWho the hell are you working for? Who are you?â Suddenly Oliver had grabbed hold of Rowanâs shirt and tugged him much closer. Hs fist was clenched so tightly now, he could feel his own fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. âWhat do you want from Gaia? I swear, if you go anywhere near her, if you touch a hair on her head, I willââ
âAll right, enough! â Rowan shouted. âThatâs enough.â
Oliver felt something jab at his
Pierre V. Comtois, Charlie Krank, Nick Nacario