Don't Let Go by Skye Warren Page A

placidly.
    Hennessey pointed at him. “If we lose an agent, this is on your head.”
    “Don’t lose sight of the objective, Hennessey.” Brody’s eyes glittered. “We’re here to nail Carlos to the wall, and how are you going to do that if he comes and goes before you’re even in position? He’s moving now, so you move now.”
    Hennessey stared at him coldly, and I held my breath. I half expected him to tell Brody to go fuck himself. At least then he wouldn’t have the professional responsibility of said clusterfuck. But finally he gave a short nod and headed into the hallway.
    I stood to follow him, but Brody cleared his throat. My eyebrow rose. An unspoken challenge filled the room as I waited for my boss to speak. As I waited for him to give himself away.
    He paused, as if deciding how much to say. “It’s important we move on this guy now. Now, before he goes underground.”
    Curiosity pierced my frustration. “Sir?”
    Leaning forward, he spoke lower. “What I said before, about the unrest within his organization, it’s getting worse. And fast. They’re either dying or disappearing, like rats running for cover.”
    “And you think Laguardia might go underground?”
    It was an interesting idea, that he might go someplace we’d never find him. Undercover. He’d never pay for his crimes, but technically, if he stopped committing them, that would at least be an improvement. Still, it wouldn’t reflect well on the Bureau for him to slip away—again. Besides, criminals usually needed to keep committing crimes due to whatever compulsion had led them to start.
    Brody’s voice dropped to a murmur. “This isn’t public knowledge yet, but Daniel Fuentes, the guy you interviewed?”
    My eyes widened. In my mind, a snapshot flashed of a genial Santa Claus in an orange jumpsuit. The image skipped ahead to the soulless blank stare.
    “He’s dead,” I said, already sure. “How?”
    “Apparent suicide.”
    Apparent. “You doubt the conclusion?”
    “He was in his cell, alone. Surveillance shows no one went in or out except for the guard who discovered him. And there were no special calls or letters leading up to the event.”
    “So it’s a suicide.”
    Brody’s expression showed doubt. “The timing is suspicious…your recent visit with Hennessey…the upcoming raid. It’s a hell of a coincidence.”
    And Hennessey didn’t believe in coincidence.
    Was it possible Laguardia had somehow gotten inside? I didn’t see how. Maybe Fuentes had been so scared that Laguardia would find out that he’d done the deed preemptively. Or maybe he was just fucked up in the head.
    What do you remember?
    Three little girls in Tijuana.
    Brody’s expression hardened. “You understand your role here.”
    The question hit its target, right where it hurt the most. I was the rookie. I was the little girl who turned in her father. I was the guy wearing the red shirt in the sci fi show, only serving one purpose and destined to die.
    “Understood,” I said tightly.
    He nodded. “Dismissed.”
    I followed after Hennessey, confused and frustrated. I didn’t even know what to think about Fuentes. I wasn’t sorry he was dead, but if Carlos could reach inside maximum security, we were pretty well fucked.
    And the other part, my role. Yeah, that was coming through loud and clear. The rookie. The throwaway. Because I’d never escape my past. Hennessey was still in the hallway when I caught up to him, which meant he must have been waiting for me. He gave me a sideways glance as we continued together.
    He muttered under his breath, mimicking Brody’s words. “He’s moving now, so you move now. Is that supposed to be some fucking law enforcement wisdom? As if I don’t have an arrest list a mile longer than he could ever hope for.”
    Despite the tension of the moment, I had to crack a smile at the blatant competitiveness. In a way, Hennessey was so high above me, so competent that I idolized him. It helped to see him, at least