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Mia

“What?”

I blinked and my heart went erratic. Was someone making fun of me? No. How could the front desk staff know I even played the game? We only offered quick hellos in the morning when I arrived. They certainly weren't aware I obsessed over my MCS partner. No one in Germany knew.

“He said his name is Kassius Remeas.”

“Is this a joke?” If so, I was not amused.

“No. There is a gentleman here who asked specifically for you. He insisted you would know him.”

What the hell?

“Send him to conference room three. I’ll be down in a moment. Thank you.”

“Of course. My pleasure.”

I put the phone in the cradle and popped to my feet, my desk chair rolling backward.

Kass wasn’t here. The very idea was a joke. He wasn’t real.

As I had not discussed my gaming habits with anyone at work, someone must have set up surveillance equipment inside my apartment. “Sohn einer Hündin!”

I knew Starfighter Training Academy was a popular game all over the world, but I had no idea the game had already infiltrated Earth’s culture to such a degree. Then again, I never went out these days, so I didn’t know a lot about pop culture at the moment. I did know that curiosity was killing me and I could not ignore the chance to see Kass one more time—even an actor dressed up to look like him. I would enjoy looking at the man, and hunting down whoever had sent him—and put surveillance in my apartment—even more.

Someone out there knew exactly how obsessed I was. I had become heartsick and pathetic in the hours since I’d beaten the game. Pathetic. Capital P. Weak. Given someone a vulnerability to use against me.

I put a call in to our security teams. “This is Becker. I need an apartment sweep as soon as possible.”

“Copy that. What do you think the odds are we’ll find something?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have a team dispatched in ten minutes.”

“Thank you. Please let me know immediately.” The tech teams would search my apartment top to bottom. Whatever surveillance equipment had been installed would be gone. But that didn’t help me with the current situation. Who had sent someone here using Kass’s name? And what the hell did they hope to gain? This made no sense. I would be stuck sitting behind a desk for God knew how long. I’d been removed from most of my cases. What was the play? And why now?

I waited for the call. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. Twenty. Thirty.

I was about to pull my hair out when my phone rang. “Mia Becker.”

“Your apartment is clean, ma’am. We’re finished.”

“What? You didn’t find anything? Nothing?”

“No, ma’am. We can look again if you’re sure. But my teams is experienced and efficient.”

“No, thank you. I appreciate your work.”

“Not a problem.” The line went dead, and I discovered I was shaking.

If no one had bugged my apartment, then how the hell did they know about Kass? Maybe Jamie had been kidnapped and interrogated? Had they planted surveillance in Lily’s apartment in London? Lily was a librarian, spent hours dusting off ancient books. And Jamie was a delivery driver, not James Bond. This made zero sense.

I wiped my hands down my black pants, my palms suddenly damp. The elevator ride to the first floor felt like an eternity as I made my way to the meeting room I’d instructed this Kassius Remeas be escorted to. My high heels clicked rhythmically against the hard floor, and I straightened my suit jacket, buttoned it as if I were putting on armor. I arrived to stare at the closed door, hands shaking.

Waited.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Starfighter Training Academy Science Fiction