Agent Adams stood with his hands in his coat pockets, staring up at the construction of his new A.B.E.L. headquarters. He reclaimed his position as the only A.B.E.L. head when it was clear that Agent Steele would be an adequate, not to mention competent, new A.B.E.L. head. He didn’t want the competition. He knew Steele respected and admired authority, so he would take advantage of that while he could.

Nikolai stepped out of the car and leaned heavily on his cane while he stared at the house. The small, white house looked different in oranges, reds, and greens of the fall trees and shrubs surrounding it. Everything felt new and different, but it felt more like waking up and not knowing where you are. Every day Nikolai had to push, and he realized that he had been kidding himself that a return to this house would feel like normalcy.

Guy and Jackie sat in the waiting room of A.B.E.L.’s hospital wing. The waiting room could hold a dozen people, but it sat empty aside from the two. Guy and Jackie sat on either end of a row of chairs, and Guy wished there was more distance between them. The assassin tried to avoid looking at her face in his peripheral vision. Guy’s leg bounced up and down, and Jackie rubbed her temples. “How long do you think he’s going to be in surgery for?” Guy asked.

When Guy walked back into the brothel, he checked in with his secretary to see how Vance treated the staff. His secretary said, “He just did his thing, talked for a little bit, mainly bragged about his back, and then fell asleep. He wasn’t into any bondage or rape fetishes. He just wanted some regular humping, cuddling, and then he took a nap. Well, my understanding is that he kept talking, fell asleep, and just sort of kept mumbling even though he was asleep.” She shrugged and added, “The girl really liked him.”

Nikolai closed the door behind him as he stepped into Georg’s office. An opened tube of chips and two empty cans of pop sitting on his desk were the only marks of junk food in the Swede’s office, though Nikolai suspected more lingered in his desk drawers. Only a single strand of Georg’s hair sat out of place, and his suit jacket hung on the back of his chair instead of covering his black dress shirt and board shoulders.

Guy sat in his office at the brothel, absently thinking about Nikolai while his brown eyes scanned over the monitors that contained strangers fucking. He wasn’t terribly broken-hearted over lying to Nikolai about what Cox thought of him, and he figured if he meant that much to Nikolai, it was worth keeping up the lie. Plus, there was the chance that Nikolai would hate him for revealing the truth.

Nikolai stayed sitting in his chair with a file in his hand as Steele made the announcement. He called everyone into the area, and he folded his hands together as he said the words.

Guy found himself sitting again in Cain’s office. Cain’s green eyes stared intently into Guy, and the assassin shifted in his seat. “So Lockhart and Guerrero are definitely dead then?” Cain asked.

Nikolai sat on a stall in Georg Westermark’s bathroom. Hair products of every size, smell, and colour littered his countertop, but they all sat upright, as if they stood at attention, and his counter was clear of any spills or even dust. The smells overwhelmed Nikolai a touch, and he felt like he sat in a cosmetic store, nearest to all the soaps and hand creams.

Guy sat across from Cain in Cain’s office. His brown eyes ran over every curve of Cain’s face and dipped them into every wrinkle while the man flipped through documents on his desk. Guy was about to leave to meet Cox (though Guy told Cain he was meeting another client), and Cain asked him to pop by his office before the assassin left for a few days. Cain finally unearthed a file folder and slid it across the table to Guy, folding his hands together as he watched Guy with his green eyes.