Kathleen stared at her. "You’re asking me to go alone and tell them that someone is auctioning my work, based on evidence I didn’t even find myself?"
Veronica nodded. "You’ll have the files. Everything Lapwing uncovered. It’ll be enough. Just don’t say how you got it."
"And if they press?"
"You say it came from a whistleblower. An anonymous one. You’re a scientist, not a spy. They won’t push too hard."
Kathleen looked away. "I hate that you’re part of this world and can’t be open about it."
Veronica reached over and took her hand. "I dislike it too. But this is how I survive. And I’m not going to let someone hurt you because I couldn’t stay in the shadows."
Kathleen’s eyes stung, but she nodded. "Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m not happy about it."
"I know. And I’m sorry."
Later that night, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath Veronica’s sheets, Kathleen lay awake while Veronica slept. The city light filtered through the blinds in faint lines, catching on the sharp edge of Veronica’s jaw, the curve of her shoulder.Kathleen reached out, traced a finger lightly along her spine. She loved her.
But Veronica lived in a grey world. A world of secrets, of aliases and half-truths.
What happens when this was all over?
Would Veronica stay? Could she?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kathleen stood across the street from the towering grey stone of 26 Federal Plaza.
The building rose above her, its facade cold in a way that made her palms damp despite the summer warmth. A U.S. flag flapped from a pole above the entrance, joined by the FBI seal etched in glass near the revolving doors. She shifted her satchel higher on her shoulder, trying to quell her nervousness. She was completely out of her depth.
With a deep breath, she walked over and entered the building.
The interior lobby of the Jacob K. Javits Federal Building was imposing. Slate floors and security cameras tucked into corners. Lines of metal detectors were manned by federal guards in pressed uniforms, and behind them, beyond a set of glass partitions, was the entrance to the FBI field office for the Southern District of New York. Everything about the place radiated authority.
Stiffening her shoulders, she joined the security line.
"Next," the guard called, waving her forward. Kathleen stepped up, putting her bag on the conveyor belt. She slipped off her watch and passed through the metal detector, flinchingslightly at the loud beep. With a sheepish look, she placed the set of keys from her pocket onto to the belt and passed through again.
"Purpose of visit?" another guard asked, eyeing her ID.
"I have information relating to a federal crime. I need to speak to someone in cybercrime or intellectual property theft," she said, striving for calm.
The guard gave her a long look before nodding. "Wait over there."
She sat on a grey bench with a few others, mostly suits scrolling their phones. The minutes crawled by. Her fingers kept straying to her satchel, where a flash drive was zipped into a side pocket. Everything was on it: the research theft, the dark web auction screenshots, the shell company trails, and all connected to Darlene Hunt.
Eventually, a young man in a dark suit stepped into the lobby and looked around.
"Dr. Kathleen Knowles?"
She stood up, relieved. "That’s me.”
He nodded his head without smiling. "I’m Agent Mike Ramirez. Come with me, please."
He led her down a secured corridor, past frosted-glass offices where people worked at computers. Kathleen kept her eyes ahead, swallowing to moisten her throat. She'd never been inside a federal building before, and the sheer weight of government infrastructure pressing in around her made her feel jittery and small.
Ramirez held open a door to a glass-walled conference room and gestured for her to take a seat. "Would you like some water?"
She nodded, and he returned a moment later with a bottle, setting it beside her.
