I breathe a sigh of relief as I step into the operations room. It’s still empty at this hour. I don’t have long before Natalie or one of the analysts walks in and discovers what I’m doing, and I don’t want to have to answer any awkward questions.

The sound of the clattering keys tapping underneath my fingers fills the room. My breath is lost amongst the whirring of fans and the bleeping of dozens of screens. It’s oddly peaceful in here. I can see why Kim likes computers so much.

I log on to the mainframe.

I needed to come in to do this. I can monitor the cameras in Kim’s apartment via remote access, but every feed gets sent directly here. Just thinking about what I saw onscreen last night gets me excited. I feel dirty at the same time, like a repentant pervert – but that doesn’t change what I saw.

Kim’s legs parting.

Kim’s fingers probing her folds.

Kim’s thoughts about me were making her reach completion …

At least, I hope they are of me. Somehow, that last bit seems to make what I did okay. I know it isn’t, not really, but it at least gives me an excuse.

I need to get my head back in the game. None of that matters, not now. I need to find out whether anyone’s already seen the footage of Kim, and if not, delete it. The idea of one of the analysts – Stan or whoever – seeing my girl like that, at her most intimate, her most exposed: it sickens me.

My heart is in my mouth as I click on the list of files.

My body goes slack.

They are undisturbed.

No one’s seen it; seen her. I plug a USB drive into the side of the computer, and double click on an icon. Trade secret. The program run swiftly, and beeps when it reaches 100%. The message: All Files Corrupted flashes up on screen, and disappears.

I don’t feel guilty. Not about what I just did, anyway. The fact I’m letting this happen, letting a bunch of analysts pick over every facet of Kim’s life like vultures around a corpse…

It doesn’t just make me feel guilty, it makes me sick. I need to figure a way out of this mess, and fast.

“What are you doing?”

It’s only years of experience that stops me from jumping a foot into the air. I know that that’s the worst thing I could do.

Natalie Morris is a suspicious woman by nature. Right now, anything I do could give the game away. I need to remain in her good books – at least until I find a way of getting Kim out of this.

“Doing what?” I reply, slowly turning around. I act casual, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Why are you here?” She asks, studying my face. I keep it bland.

I cock an eyebrow. “I thought I’d come in early.”

“Why?”

“Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Natalie looks at me, her forehead furrowed with suspicion. “You have been in this business long enough to know, Nate. People do not change.”

That’s not what I want to hear. I think I am changing, that Kim’s having an effect on me. I’ve worked my way into half a dozen women’s confidences in this job. Kim’s the only one who’s made me risk everything for her.

“Let’s agree to disagree. But…” I grin, my hand – hidden by my back – curling around the USB drive.

I fake a cough, and whip the drive into my fist as I bring the hand in front of my mouth.

“I’m sorry, rough night. But I can go, if you don’t want me here?”

“What was that noise?” Natalie asks.

I loosen my hand, and the drive falls down the sleeve of my shirt. I’ve done this move a hundred times. I know it won’t slip out.

I just need to be certain nothing slips my tongue.

I turn round, holding my breath. I’m desperate for the program to have done its job – deleted any trace that it was there at all.

“Noise?” I shrug, closing my eyes and breathing out with relief. The computer screen is empty; all stop; I’m clear. “Beats me: anyway – about that briefing? If it’s not urgent –”

Apparently satisfied, Natalie makes a dismissive motion with her hand. “Sit down, Nathaniel: enough messing about. This is serious.”

The analysts file in, not making eye contact.

“So why am I here, Natalie? Why all the cloak and dagger stuff. I have a day job now, you know?”

Natalie reaches over from a remote control, and the screen blinks to life. The Paragon Group’s anonymous logo – the letter P and the letter G layered over each other – disappears with the smoke-like effect.

“The Templars are in town,” she says.

My blood runs cold. I blink, processing what this means – not for me, but for Kim.

“Come again?”

“I mean it Nate: at least two operatives, maybe more. We do not know why they here, but we can guess –”

“You should have told me. It’s my ass on the line!” And Kim’s, I don’t say. That’s who I’m worried about, though. The Templars are murderers, every one. It’s a condition of entry to the gang, and the Mexican drug war is brutal.

“I am telling you now,” Natalie replies flatly.

I bite down on the surge of anger rising inside me. I know it won’t get me anywhere. Besides, I need all the information I can get, if I’m going to keep Kim safe.

“What do we know?” I grunt with my eyes focused on the screen. Four mug shots flash up, spinning slowly in 3-D. I’ve not seen any of the men before. Each is heavily tattooed. I study them carefully, committing each facial angle, tattoo pattern, and head shapes to my memory.

If it comes down to it, I know I won’t forget them.

Stan speaks up from the other end of the operations room table. “Interpol intercepted two men of Mexican descent flying from Mexico City to London via Madrid.”

“So?”

“So – they were from the Muerta Brigade,” Stan says.

I’ve never been less happy to be right. My head sinks to my chest. “Killers.”

When my eyes head back up, I see Natalie nod.

I feel a tendril of hope rising inside of me. I know I shouldn’t. Natalie’s too experienced to have called me in for no reason. But because Kim’s involved, I’m clutching onto anything I can get. I don’t know why she’s having this impact on me. Maybe it’s because she acts so innocent. Maybe it’s because she is so innocent.

“What’s the problem,” I ask, “if they are in custody? That’s good for us, isn’t it?”

“The Spanish police have no grounds on which to hold them.”

My forehead collapses into lines. “You’re saying –”

Natalie nods.

“– They are just going to let them go?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s bullshit!” I say, standing up. My thigh smacks against the table, and some of Stan’s notes plunge to the floor.

“Nate!”

“No, Natalie, this is crap. You know it, I know it. We must be able to pin something on these guys.”

“Nathaniel, sit down,” Natalie says, in her most parental tone. What she says next stops me in my tracks. “This is good for us.”

“How, Natalie,” I glower, my face grim with anger. “Tell me how, letting a couple of trained killers, into this country, is good for us.”

Natalie’s face twists with frustration. “Come on, Nate. You have been around this game long enough to know. What has gotten over you?”

“Screw it,” I mutter, sitting down. I need to keep a lid on things. I’m walking a fine line. Natalie might decide I’m too much of a risk – and pull me from the operation entirely. I wouldn’t blame her, not with the way I’m acting.

I feel myself getting worked up. It’s not like me. The differences, this time I’ve got skin in the game – Kim’s skin.

“We have sixteen hours before the Spanish let them go,” she continues, satisfied I’m done.

“That’s crap,” I grunt. She doesn’t disagree. My brain starts ticking. “So – we follow them. What’s the problem?” I say.

Natalie shrugs. “We can try. But these guys are good. Damn good. And besides…”

I study her face carefully. I have a feeling that I’m not going to like what she’s about to say.

“… We think they have already smuggled at least two operatives into the country:”

My mind goes numb. I barely pay attention to what Natalie is doing. She points at the screen.

“ the guy with the tattoos up to his eyeballs; and the operative with the silver front teeth.”

I swallow hard. Both of them have the look of fighters. I’ve been around the block, but these guys… They came up from the slums of Michoacán. They probably killed their first man before their fifteenth birthday.

They look like they would kill their own children, if the price was right.

I run my hand through my hair. “We’ve got to pull her out: Now.”

All I can think of is what would happen if these guys got their hands on Kim. They wouldn’t just kill her. They would do unspeakable things to her body. Things she would never recover from.

Natalie shakes her head, and it causes a surge of anger inside me. “No way,” she says, “the intelligence she is getting us is golden. She is exposing Landwolfe for exactly what it is – a nest of vipers.”

“She doesn’t know she’s doing it!” I protest.

Natalie shrugs. “I cannot help that, Nate. You chose her.”

The statement hits home hard. I bite my lip. I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. Kim is only in all this danger because I put her there. Maybe she’d have got herself mixed up in it anyway, but I can’t console myself by telling myself that lie.

I did this to her.

So it’s my responsibility to save her from it. I don’t care if Paragon agrees with me or not.

“If she dies,” I protest, “what then? She’s a God damn American citizen. We of her –”

“– Nothing,” Natalie replied coldly. Her lips are thin and white. “We are not the CIA. We are not the FBI. We are not the damn police. We are private. We do what we want. In fact, we do what I want. And what I want Nate, is for you to tell me you are on board with this. Are you? Because if not…”

She leaves her threat dangling in the air. If it was any other case, any other mission, any other girl, my pride wouldn’t let me give way.

But it’s not any other girl.

If I want to have any chance of saving Kim, I need to be on the inside. I need to have access to Paragon’s data, their resources, everything.

My fists clench so hard white-hot skewers of pain flash through my wrists. I want to hit something. Natalie’s playing me just as hard as I’m playing her, and I don’t like it.

I breathe out heavily.

Think of why you’re doing this.

“I can deal,” I reply, fighting against every morsel of my personality. “But I don’t want that girl’s death on my conscience. I’ll do anything –”

Natalie cuts me off. “It will not be,” she says with the tone of the woman who wouldn’t lose a second’s sleep over Kim’s gruesome murder, “it will be on mine.”

I nod. My face is still contorted into a grimace, but I’m not going to smile just to make things better.

“Get in touch when you know something,” I say. I glance contemptuously at Stan and the other analysts, sitting in the corner with looks of shock on their faces. “Anything.”

I turn on my heel, and have to restrain myself from shoulder barging the clouded glass doors on my way out.

Two weeks ago, I might not have blinked an eye if Kim were to die.

Two weeks ago, I was the only important thing in my life.

Two weeks ago, I wasn’t a very nice man.

Would I trade my current problems for two weeks ago? No way in hell.