Feeling as if I was in danger caused me to look at life with entirely different eyes. I felt a necessity to get my affairs in order, spend time with the people I cared for, and have everything in place to hold someone accountable if the unthinkable happened before Vincent and I were done.

“I don’t know much, but I know this,” Jack said during a lull in the movie’s action. “In the last few weeks, we’ve seen a black truck in your driveway half a dozen times, and now you’re obviously upset about something. What’s going on, Val?”

I took a drink of wine. “He has nothing to do with it.”

“I doubt it’s completely coincidental,” he said.

“You’re not yourself,” Jordan added.

She was correct. I wasn’t myself. I was in the process of planning the killing of several coworkers, which left me feeling as if someone was peering over my shoulder and monitoring my every move.

I’d been driving to work with my eyes darting between the rearview mirror, the sideview mirrors, and back to the road, fearing that someone from the DNI’s office was following me. At night, I could be mistaken for a paranoid meth addict, peering outside every time a car drove past, or if I heard a noise—any noise—that sounded different than the noises I convinced myself I was accustomed to hearing.

I was sleeping on and off throughout the night, getting no more than a few hours’ sleep, which wasn’t near enough for me to function properly.

I looked like a walking zombie.

“There’s some things going on at work.” I reached over the side of the chair and picked up my purse. “Things I’m not completely comfortable with.”

Jack took a drink of beer, glanced over his shoulder, and met my blank gaze. “You ready to spill the beans on who you work for and what you do?”

“I’m not sure,” I responded. “But I have something I want to give you.”

I removed a small lockable personal safe from my purse. It wasn’t much larger than the box a cell phone came in, was made of steel, and secured by a combination lock. If someone wanted to get in the box, they certainly could. It would only keep honest people from being nosey.

“I want to give this to you, but only if you’re willing to take it,” I said. “There’s risk and responsibility that comes with it.”

“Oh my God!” Jordan gasped. “What is it? Are you okay, Val? What’s going on—”

“Just listen,” I said. “I’ll try to explain everything the best I can.”

Jack turned off the TV and stood. “Did you do something stupid?”

“I’m beginning to think I did when I took this job,” I responded.

He nodded toward my lap. “What’s in the little box?”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Jordan complained. “What’s going on?”

“Let me explain everything, okay?”

She nodded.

I looked at Jack.

He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “I’m listening.”

I drew a deep breath, and then let it out. I glanced at each of them. “If I tell you who I work for, and if you accept this box, you’re putting yourself at risk of becoming a victim of the government’s wrath. You both need to think about whether or not you want to accept that responsibility.”

“More of a risk at being a victim than we are now?” Jack asked.

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re here a few nights a week. Other than that, you go nowhere. Don’t you think your employer knows we’re like family? The first place they’re going to look for information is right here.”

“Right now, I don’t think anyone is at risk,” I explained. “This is a precautionary measure. I don’t work for the CIA or NSA. This isn’t matter of national security. Not really.”

“So, they’re not going to send goons in here to ransack our home looking for that little box?” Jack asked.

“They don’t know this box exists. I didn’t steal anything. There’s nothing missing. I just took some photos of a bunch of things they don’t want me taking pictures of.”

“I don’t like this,” Jordan said.

“I don’t either,” I admitted. “But I did it to protect myself. As an insurance policy. A bargaining chip. Things are getting ready to happen with my employer, and they’re not going to like what it is. If they try to do anything to me, I’m going to let them know this thumb drive exists. I’ll tell them if anything happens to me that the contents of this box will be released to CNN News. They won’t want that, and I doubt they’ll take the risk.”

Jack gestured to the box. “If something happens to you, do you want us to take it to CNN?”

I nodded.

He looked at Jordan. “We don’t have a choice.”

“It makes me nervous to keep it in the house,” Jordan said.

“I’ll lock it in the safe deposit box in the bank,” Jack said. “It won’t even be here.”

Jordan looked at me. “This is going to keep them—whoever they are—from hurting you?”

“I hope so. It’s really my only viable option.”

She glanced at the box, and then at me. “Okay.”

I shifted my eyes to Jack.

“I’ll accept it, and all the responsibility that comes with it,” he said. “But only if you explain to me what it is, and why it’s so important.”

I feared that might be his response. I knew I couldn’t tell him everything, but I could tell him enough to satisfy his curiosity and keep me out of trouble.

“Grab another beer and have a seat,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything.”