“Silva...” Director Carlyle calls you aside while you work to file your report. “I want to talk about your involvement in the Wright case.”
Fuck. It's been four days since it happened, and now the regional director's on your ass. You follow him to his office, wondering what's to come. As you sit, you’re greeted with an unusual gesture.
Praise. “Excellent job on the Wright case. We took down Tyneside's biggest threat to law enforcement.”
“That wasn't my job, sir. That was agent Clark's--”
“I have a couple questions about the matter, though.” You freeze, as this skin doesn't record memories. (And after all, it was her, and not this skin, who did the deed.) “Your preliminary report indicates a confidence led to the sting operation.”
“That is correct, sir.”
“And you were called to assist in the investigation, right?”
“I was, yes.”
He nods knowingly, studying your every gesture. “May I ask why?”
“I was about to complete the report, sir.”
“Extraofficially,” he stresses out. “I need to know why someone from the S&I branch would be assigned to an ongoing criminal case on short notice, when the confidence provided was delivered to CI.”
Silva didn't prepare you for his interrogation – but that's how she does things. Improvise and hope things end up well. And you shouldn't screw her operation.
Even if it means screwing someone else. “Clark asked me for that favor. He needed... my tact. Amongst other things.”
“Such as?”
“After studying the case, I noticed ties with a related case – a drug lab hidden in an abandoned facility in Tyneside's industrial district. The information was relayed to ATF agents for further investigation, but the agent in charge asked to have me as a liaison.”
“And that would be?”
“Agent Frank Purdue.” (Luckily you studied some of her contacts.)
“I see. I'll take no more of your time.”
“If you'll excuse me...” You turn and begin to make your leave, when Carlyle stops you.
“Just one more thing...” (Who does he think he is, Columbo?) “I heard from some of the agents in charge that you caught a set of pens as evidence.”
“They should be at the evidence room.”
“Funny - they're not.” (Shit!) “I thought you knew.”
“Have you checked if someone from higher up requested it?” You're unsure if it will work, but you hope the agency's rivalry with the CIA rings true.
“Have you?”
“I delivered the evidence for registration, sir. Whatever our friends in domestic and foreign intelligence do is out of my payroll.”
He gives you a very dark glare but doesn’t stop there. “Any idea why?”
“I'm as much on the dark as you are.” You compound your bluff with another believable lies. “Maybe it's one of their toys and they tricked us to recover them.” And then another, as you turn and leave. “Maybe it's their latest surveillance tech. I'd be asking them why they had those there.”
And after you study his contorted mask of anger and confusion, you drop the smoke bomb. “Can I leave?”
“Yes,” he mutters, his look lost and very pensive.
“Thank you, sir.” You step away from his office, unsure if you managed a victory or a defeat. Carlyle will be looking for those pens, but at least he’ll be distracted thinking they’re the CIA's tools. Distracted from Silva's real mission.
And even if you fucked up, at least you'll be able to alert her of someone on your trail.
--
But now, it's time for damage control. Clark called you, desperate, after receiving a call from his own superior. You're on a café you frequent, within Tyneside, apparently owned by an ex-model, and he's on his second cup of coffee. “What was that, Silva!?”
“Carlyle was on my ass,” you confess. “It's not like it's false anyways – you needed my help after all.”
“Because you know about those things Wright and the kid told us.”
Because we needed support, you tell yourself. But to Clark, you tell something else. “That would've made your case a lot harder.”
“I know...” Clark groans, looking over his shoulder. “Stevens asked me why I wasn't in charge.”
“Technically, you were.” You flinch as he glares at you. “You and I discussed how we'd do the operation – I'd be there, alongside Renner, and we'd try to neutralize them.”
“Heard about Renner,” he tells you. “I don't get it.”
“They were managing some serious influence, Gabe.”
“When I heard what he did...” He sighs, full of anger and frustration. “What was he trying to get?”
“I don't know...” You hide your own under a sip of coffee – espresso, black, Colombian, just like she likes it. (Thank the pens they gave you her taste buds – you're not one for coffee.) “I get the money, but he knew about our operation. You think he was planning to betray us all along?”
That question catches him wrongfooted. “I dunno. Wright and the kid had two pens, right?”
“Yeah.”
“If the whole thing was to work for her, that'd make sense. But if he was gonna betray us, he would’ve disappeared with the stuff. Then again...” He leans closer, his shoulders hunched and jittery. “You heard there was a bust in the building's evidence room?”
This better be Silva doing that... “I heard Carlyle said the evidence disappeared. Can't be Renner, though – he's still in custody.”
“Shit.” You just answered the question he never told you. “Adrienne, I don't like this. If Renner has a partner in the agency--”
“Keep your eyes and ears open,” you warn him. “Carlyle being on our asses might be the least of our troubles.”
“I had hoped you dealt with those.”
“They needed the skins to extract intel from Lachlan, Marquand and Vossler. See how their operation worked. Without the pens, we’d have to depend on their confession, and that'll make everything worse.”
“I know.” He takes another sip, looking over his shoulders – is that one of his quirks? “I thought you had it under control.”
“It was a risky gamble. Renner's out, Carlyle's noseying around, everyone's aware of that stuff now...” You rub your forehead with your palm, hissing. “I thought this'd be over with that.”
“Stressed?”
You chuckle. “Should've gotten tea instead. Chamomile or something.”
You cross eyes, studying his intentions. “We're off-duty now. I figure that, if they're on our noses, might as well give them a reason.”
“A reason for what?”
“To suspect why we're together.” He grabs your arm, and you hold your shudder – hoping he interprets it as a swoon. “It's been a while.”
You smile, figuring it'd be great to experiment. “Yeah. It's been a while.”
--
You're letting Adrienne ride upstairs, but you still got to hold the reins. And while you can't be sure if she enjoys this, you do.
Clark is a savage in bed. That shirt hides some killer abs, and the scent of his cologne drives you mad. (It smells great, but it's taking your mind off the game.) His cock is big and his tongue is ravishing, and the way he grabs you and mounts you on his waist tells you he’s crazy for Silva.
You have to remind him that your back is off-limits, though. He'd be in shock if he knew you're just a guy wearing a skin, and would make him question everything. Which is a shame, since he's making you question some things. Is it gay to have sex with a man when you're wearing a woman’s skin? Were you always secretly gay, and only now you're realizing it?
That gets shelved by a fleeting thought. Should you care? Because mounting him feels good, and female sex is amazing. This is definitely the best perk of the job – fucking as a hot Latina. Not so much fucking a horny federal agent who's also a serious beefcake, but thinking of Adrienne, and Ashley, and – yes – even Jessica makes everything better.
After a while, you wrap your arms around him as you rest your coochie and he takes a breather. He kisses your forehead and rubs your hair (God, he's so soppy!) before surprising you with some intel. “Did you know Marvin and Tessa were a couple?”
Shit! He's testing you. You need to act – fast! “No.”
“I thought you would.”
“I don't always know anything...” You kiss your lips, trying to appease him. “Makes you worry about them?”
“I don't believe that nature dictates what you do, Adrienne. It's just...” He slides away, groaning. “What would make him go rogue?”
Rogue? Was he a federal agent too? You slowly grab your phone, unlocking it. “I dunno. Money, I guess.”
“But he had the money.” He looks at you, full of suspicion. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” Shit! He cornered you! Fortunately, you're one step ahead.
“You told me to keep my eyes and ears open, Adrienne. The real one would've known Marvin Wright was a state justice. One step away from the state Supreme Court.”
He holds you, making your phone fall, as he makes a question. “Who are you? And why are you in Adrienne's skin?”
But he couldn't stop you from delivering the message.
[Help]
--
You're furious despite the explanation. Silva – still inside Clarice – has finished talking to Clark and now stands on the doorframe, amused. “He's really surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because you warned him.” She cackles as she gets closer. “Oh, he's queasy about knowing you're not me. But he told me he appreciates that gesture.”
“Even though he knew.”
“He knows I got a double. He thought you were me.” She closes the door, her tone growing very academic. “You handled yourself well. Almost neutralized Clark.”
“You could've told me.”
“Like I said – you need to know how to adapt.” She sits beside you, lifting her knee. “I'll see how we can handle Carlyle. Might be a good lead.”
You're furious she left you in the dark about the disappearance of the pens (that was her, by the way), but more about that detail she left out. “Why didn’t you tell me about Marvin Wright?”
“Because his case was notorious, David.”
“Not to everyone. Why didn't you tell him he was using Tessa? Why didn't you tell me Ashley’s dad was behind all this?”
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