Page 69 of Targeted By Vengeance

We hurried to the door and slipped through it into the hallway.

Stepping into the building felt like walking through a time machine. The sight of the shiny laminated floors and seemingly never-ending halls flooded my brain with memories from my time as an agent.

Training in Quantico. Meeting Gabriel. Earning my badge and credentials. Hanging around my desk, swimming through endless piles of paperwork.

This place used to bring me peace and joy. Now, knowing about all the lies and corruption that’s occurred within it, it made my chest ache.

Behind me, Mateo quietly pulled the door shut.

We glued ourselves to the wall, cloaking ourselves in the darkness there. Mateo stood close to me, waiting for my next move.

Tonight, he was following my lead. I knew the layout of this building like the back of my hand, so it only made sense.

At this time of night, I didn’t expect for any agents to be hanging around. The only ones I could think of would be the ones assigned to keep an eye on Logan. Still, I had to keep my eyes peeled for any surprises.

I didn’t see any silhouettes or catch any movement. The silence was louder than the usual pitter patter of shoes and chatter that usually fills the halls.

I led Mateo down the hall towards the stairwell at the end of it. We quietly crept up the ten stories towards the floor where the director’s offices were held.

We were met with carpet when we came out of the stairwell door, the fabric eating whatever sound our footsteps would’ve made.

I peeked around the first corner at the end of the hall when we hit it.

Two agents lingered in the hall there, guarding Logan’s office door. One had his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes hanging lower and lower with every passing second.

The other was more alert, his gaze bouncing between the opposite ends of the hall. To his partner, he looked like he was just keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. But, really, he was waiting for our signal.

Involving Gabriel in our plan didn’t feel right, but he wouldn’t let me have it any other way. He wanted to have my back - even if it cost him a stern scolding from the higher ups after all this went down. A slap on the wrist was nothing to him. After what I’d told him, I doubted he’d even care if they fired him. Not that it’d ever come to that. By design, it’d look like he’d tried to save Logan - he just made it a few minutes too late.

“He’s ready,” I whispered to Mateo, looking up at him.

“Alright. Are you sure you want to go in there alone?”

“I have to. This is my score to settle.”

He nodded. “I understand.” He leaned down to peck a kiss on my forehead. “Be careful.”

Mateo slipped from my side to the other side of the wall. Quickly, he hurried past the gap between the corners and sped down the opposite end of the hall. His silhouette disappeared around another corner. Moments later, three distinct slams echoed through the hall.

The loud sound jolted the weary agent out of his daze. “What the fuck?” He said. His hand went to the gun on his hip as he straightened up and started down the hall.

Gabriel followed close behind him. He glanced across the free space at me, catching a glimpse of me in the darkness. He gave me a nod before turning his head to keep a better eye on his partner.

With the coast clear, I headed down the hall and towards the office door. I lingered in the shadows for a moment, peeking through the slit of plexiglass on the door.

Logan was sitting in his office chair with a bottle of scotch in his hands, bathing in the silver light of the moon. Gray streaks outnumbered the dark ones in his hair, and bags hung under his bloodshot eyes. His gaze was fixed on the window, staring aimlessly at the skyline of buildings on the opposite side of the field.

Guilt couldn’t have been eating him. He never looked this bad when my father died.

He was just upset his sins were finally catching up with him - and he had no idea when they’d strike.

I carefully turned the knob and pushed the door open, minimizing the volume of the creak.

His eyes darted to the doorway, but he didn’t reach for a weapon. He clutched his bottle of liquor, a smile tugging at his lips. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, lifting the bottle to his mouth. “Another ghost to haunt me.”

“How many do you have?” I asked, continuing into the room. I shut and locked the door behind him. “My dad and I can’t be the only skeletons in your closet.”

“I stopped counting after the first.” His eyes raked over me. “You look different,” he mused. “I’m not so sure Xavier would be happy to know his daughter went from a reputable FBI agent to a knock off Catwoman.”