A hollowness in my chest sunk my heart into its pit as I stopped in front of Alistair's cell. He stood in the centre, shoulders back and chin raised, watching me through the glass with steel, narrow eyes.

Agent Nicholson had allowed me access to his holding cell before his move to prison, telling me that the ex-Director had remained near-silent since Derek dragged him through the office and into his cell. From what I had heard, it was the same cell Collins and Gabby had been kept in. Derek admitted he leaned into the irony, and I did not blame him.

I did not have the stomach to lock him up myself, and imagined others would have found it more satisfying than I, but his mouth had been sealed shut for four days now, and Collins suggested I questioned him myself.

I wrung my hands in apprehension, suddenly aware of the soft material wrapped around them. Through our scramble out of Blackwood Manor, Derek and I had torn our palms, not realising until we entered the helicopter. Adrenaline kept me numb to it, but the two of us were hounded by medical staff the moment we stepped back into the office. Derek snuck away, escorting a handcuffed Alistair to the top floor, and fired a grin over his shoulder at my scowling at the fussing first aiders. It was a nuisance to clean and reapply the bandages every day, but the wounds were healing fast and painlessly – a much different story to the scar on my shoulder.

He did not react whatsoever. Not to my bandaged hands. Not to my bruised cheek. And certainly not to the icy glower targeted his way.

How dare he not react.

With a shaking breath, I calmed my tone. "Are you just going to stand there, or will you accept what you have done?"
Alistair chuckled. "My own words. Need I remind you of the scenario in which I told you them?"
He heard me swallow and locked his hands behind his back, arching a brow. Even behind inches of bulletproof glass, he knew a small thread still looped around me somewhere.
"That was entirely different."
"You are repeating your own history. Again, in fact." His tone was chirping, almost amused at my suffering as if I meant nothing to him. My jaw clenched. "It'll happen again, you know?"
"It was years ago," I snipped. "It means nothing about the future."
"The past shapes who we are, Miss Knight."
"Like how you were shaped into a terrorist."

He only blinked. Once. That was all the reaction I needed.

"Oh?" I took a single step towards him, mirroring his stance of holding my hands behind my back, shoulders stretched out. "Do you not like that word, sir? Do you dislike being called a terrorist?" He flinched. Hypocrite.
"I—"
"You need to get used to that word, I'm afraid, because you will hear it again, and again, and again. You will hear it from me, then in a courtroom surrounded by those whose lives you threatened to destroy. Then in a prison far less pleasing than this – that I can promise – where you will meet your new family in the form of the hundred criminals you put in there over the past three decades."

He was the agency's greatest hero. His success rates were higher than any other Director in history, and now he had become those he promised to destroy.

Alistair sighed. "Amber—"
"No."
"Knight. You know me. You know everything I have done has always been for the benefit of this country."
"There it is again," I hissed. "I followed you blindly for years because you told me everything I did for you was for the best." I shook my head. "You can't pull that string anymore. I won't let you."
"Much would be lost, but in the end it would all be for—"
"Vengeance. It would all be for vengeance."

With Alistair silenced, I raised my gaze, looking down on him. "You once told me that tracking down Marcus would ruin me. Now look at you: choking on your own words and spitting them back out, claiming righteousness. You are a hypocrite, Alistair. You destroyed who you are, becoming Marcus's mirror image."
"I can still help you find him," his voice broke for the first time since I had met him. "Do you not wish to put an end to his suffering?"
I bit my lip and let go. My words to Scotty still stood strong: I did not need Alistair. "I do. But how can a man that has caused me so much pain help to stop another?" I was sure I saw him stiffen. "I will find Marcus without you because I never needed you in the way you convinced me I did."

Alistair was not a man to be rendered silent by the words of another, only choosing to do so with expert precision to signify disappointment or maintain control. Now he was stunned, hurt and betrayed in a way that almost matched the pain he caused me.

"Goodbye, ex-Director," I said. "I hope your new family fares better than I."

I turned on my heel and left him behind, not risking nor sparing a second glance for him as every step bounced back to him down the concrete corridor.

"He will leave when you tell him." I stopped. "Just like Mr. Parker did. And you will be caught in the loop once more."

I took a breath. "He is not Kai."

"You trusted him once, too. Look at what happened."

Features unmoving, I left the holding cells with a new knot in my stomach.

If I had it my way, I would have never saw Alistair again, hopeful the face of my idol would crumble into nothing but ash in the back of my mind.

But even something so small as a grain of ash could stain black forever.

***

A fortnight after the explosion at Blackwood, we were permitted to return to work. Only priority undercover missions and emergency assignments were given the Government's pass to continue while Alistair's associates were weeded out. Four agents had been arrested for conspiring with Alistair, along with six politicians. Mika's private files were uncovered, and his mercenary band tracked down. Most were sitting in cells after two weeks, awaiting trial; the agency had been assured that others had fled, but they were no longer considered extreme threats.

With no Director, Collins was appointed the temporary position while a replacement was decided. At our protests, the choice was left to the politicians alone under the belief that the agency could not select their own leaders if they were picked based on how much they benefited us. There were arguments, with all of us having to appear before the dozens MP's to argue in favour of the agency, but giving testimonies against Alistair simultaneously voided any defence we could give, and we were marched from Westminster. We were excluded from the know fir now, but grateful to have a few days' rest prior to our return.

The bustling chaos of Waterloo was a shockingly welcome sight, even when a headphone-wearing teenager on a skateboard knocked half the contents of my coffee cup to the ground and barked at me to watch where I was going, a nearby old woman cursing him for being so careless while Scotty stuck his middle finger in the air.

We were definitely back home.

Scotty's boasting had gotten louder with every retelling of how he arrested Alistair, and as we jogged up the wide, stone steps to leave the Underground station, he fought to level it over the roaring traffic of London's rush hour.

I let out a sharp, clouding breath as we stepped into the cool air, slipping one hand into my pocket with the other closing tighter around the coffee cup. I took a sip of the mocha, inhaling the roasted scent to cover up the city's petrol fumes, and tuned back into Scotty's rambling as the surrounding noise died down.

"...And then I pulled the gun out from under the dashboard and was like: don't you think about it, mister. I'm in charge now!"
"—And then he quivered at the vigour of your audacious stance!"
"Don't mock me. I need to practice my storytelling skills for when that fine-looking woman at the front desk sees my name."
I stifled a laugh. "On what? Your coffee cup?"
He scoffed at the audacity. "No! On the plaque Collins will be making for me."
"Is it gold-plated by any chance?"
"You know me. It shall be unveiled to the world when I get my new office – a private one. Not one of those daft corners with a cheap wooden desk and a computer."
"A desk and a computer? We are so deprived in our workplace," I tutted.
"Make fun of me all you want, but you'll be thankful when I put in a special requisition order for proper office and a new latte machine."

I took another sip of my coffee with a smile, running the frothy liquid around my mouth to warm up. Scotty pressed the silver button at a traffic light, the two of us impatiently huffing with the other Londoners until the light turned green, all of us pushing as an incohesive herd to make our way across the road.

When we approached the glass doors of the agency, a delicate pitter-patter of footsteps tailed us.

"You're here!" Gabby called, waving from down the street as her baby pink flats scuffed against the pavement. As she waved, the colossal stack of folders in her arms dropped to a heap on the floor. Scotty and I cringed, inhaling brisk air through our teeth as she dropped to her knees to pick up her papers, the hem of her blazer getting caught on the rough stone path.

"Come on," I nudged Scotty and wandered back down the steps. He sighed, but helped nonetheless.

"Thanks," said Gabby as we handed over the last of her folders. "I'm so happy to see you both after a few weeks. I wasn't allowed in the meetings."
"We can update you on them, if you want," Scotty suggested. He sent a questioning look my way but I shrugged.
Gabby's lips parted. "Oh, I don't want to get in the way of anything."
"I trust you enough," I replied. "Besides, everything will be public knowledge soon, anyway."

She smiled in thanks, her features beaming with thought.
"Oh! I forgot to ask. How's—?"
"We do not speak of that thing in my presence," Scotty declared, holding up a hand to silence her.

I sighed. The journey back to London had been an awkward one, with Scotty thanking Derek for saving my life then throwing a punch his way. I managed to pry them off each other, an awe-struck Alistair watching everything unfold, and got them to sit with a marked distance between on another for the rest of the trip. Though, that did not stop Scotty from taunting Derek with the knowledge that he would rarely be seeing us once we returned to the agency since he was not a Senior-Level agent.

Collins promoted him upon arrival to London. It took a whole day for him to shut up about it.

"Then leave!" Gabby pointed Scotty's way to the glass doors. "I want some gossip."
"There is no gossip," I insisted. Gabby walked by me as Scotty rushed up the steps, ears already burning.
"Speaking of him, where is he?" Scotty asked. "Did he find an actual home to go to rather than squatting at your flat?"
I held back a groan. He had complained of this constantly since the first day back from Scotland. "If you must know, he stayed in a hotel last night"
Scotty snuffed. "In the dog-house already, I see."
"Why not just go home?" Gabby asked.
"Mika all but destroyed his flat when they first went after him," I explained. "At the moment, he has nowhere to go. His family live too far away to move in with them."
"Can't he just get his flat fixed as we've always done?" said Scotty, a slight bitterness wedged in his tone.
"The landlord was furious with the state of it. He got kicked out and doesn't have the money to replace his belongings and find somewhere new so I offered him to live with me."
"Poor thing! But that is a big step to take so quickly," Gabby replied. "Very brave, if you ask me."
"Very stupid, if you ask me," Scotty snipped.
I frowned. "I didn't." Looking only at Gabby I added, "He was desperate. If he can find somewhere of his own soon, he'll take it but—" I shrugged. "—I don't mind him staying. I enjoy it, to be honest."
"Yes, I've noticed." Scotty rolled his eyes.

As we made our way to the top of the steps, Gabby asked, "Why did Barnes stay at a hotel last night? Did you have a fight?"
I shook my head, looking at Scotty. "Because I thought someone would appreciate me sticking to our old routine."

Scotty blushed as his gaze fell to the floor. He shoved his free hand into his pocket and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Are we going in, or...?"

That was as close to a thank you as I would have gotten.

We entered the agency to a wave of smiles, thank-yous and handshakes from younger agents, trainees and miscellaneous staff that started their day on the bottom floor. I uncomfortably replied, and swiftly made my way to the elevator as Scotty and Gabby beamed, though Scotty's ego was taken down a few notches as the auburn-haired receptionist shook Gabby's hand and not his.

I snorted as he sheepishly stepped beside me, the doors closing.
"Not a word from you."

***

We separated upon exiting the elevator, Gabby heading for her desk, with Scotty making a beeline for a pretty, dark-haired agent I had not seen before. I shook my head at him, but made my way for Collins's new office, as instructed upon my arrival.

Derek stepped out from behind a desk, smiling as usual with a fresh report clutched in his hands. I tipped my head his way.
"Nice promotion, Barnes."
He tapped me on the head with his papers as he strolled passed. "Nice arse, Knight!"

I scoffed but his childish grin as he backed away tugged on my lips. My cheeks ached as I tried to glare, finding it impossible at his smile as he looked me up and down.

"Knight!"

I blushed at Collins's call, Derek laughing as I wandered over to him waving at the other end of the floor, the door to his new office wide open.

Although barely unchanged, Alistair's old office held a brighter atmosphere since Collins had has taken on temporary ownership of it. The drapes had been pulled back, green plants dotted around cabinets and window ledges, and modern editions of classical books filled the shelves. A framed photo of a Russian Blue kitten sat atop the desk, facing the Director's chair.

Without a word, Collins rushed to the metal file cabinet in the corner of the room, picking up a tiny silver key on his way there to twist open the lock and rummage through the top drawer.

"How's life being in charge, Director Collins?"
His cheeks flushed pink for no longer than a second. "Acting Director, remember?" He lifted his gaze from the file cabinet. "I will be in this position for a few months, at most. Perhaps until after Christmas."
"You never know." I shrugged. "You may be offered the job permanently."

Collins laughed in disbelief.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, spotting the file in mind.
He dusted off the cover and handed it to me. "Here," he said as I took it. "Everything Alistair has recorded on the activities of Marcus Knight since he escaped a few years ago. I have had a look through. Wherever he has been spotted, he has disappeared fairly quickly. Alistair wanted to focus on tracking him down again as his activities became more suspicious, but when the plan of his coup started, he could not commit the resources to lure him out."

I flicked through the pages, my stomach churning at the sight of Marcus in several screen captures from security footage. There had been statements extracted from banks, Alistair's handwriting annotating lines with theories without damaging the evidence. Marcus had checked into several hospitals under various, the potential identities listed in a document, and receipts for equipment had been printed from all over the world. There had even been a robbery committed at a small hospital in Iceland.

I inhaled, settling my nausea. "We can commit resources now, right?" He glanced at the carpet. "Collins. We can can't—?"
"We lost him," he admitted. "He was last spotted in Hamburg. I sent an agent over there a few days ago to investigate but he caught onto us. He's gone, and the agent found nothing. She's recovering at a hospital nearby."
My face fell. "Then we have to find him again – lure him out, like you said. Years ago, his experiments were brutal but its been ten years now. Imagine how bad they could have gotten – the resources he could have."
"We can't, Amber," Collins sighed.
"He's out of control! The man's an obsessed lunatic. He needs to be stopped!"
"I know. But he's a master in clearing his tracks. And after this incident with Alistair, the agency will have to fight to be trusted again. Agents have already been lost for Alistair's treason. If your past is exposed, you will be considered compromised."

I bit my lip. And then I would be unable to ever track him down again, not to mention I would also be jobless with no other career aspirations. With a groan, I rubbed my eyes. Alistair was locked up, and still had a hold on the agency.

"I understand," I said in defeat.
Collins forced a smile. "Good. You can access the file whenever you wish and let me know if any patterns stand out. Just make sure it goes back in the cabinet when you're done."

I nodded and skimmed the first line of text in the file as Collins left the room; Alistair's report of the agency's conversation with Mrs Oswald prior to the siege of Marcus's lab beneath my old home. She was distraught, confessing all that I revealed from the suspicious characters wandering in and out the house, to Lucas's presence in the cellar. My heart grew heavy as I read it.

"Oh." I looked over my shoulder, Collins still in the doorway. "Just make sure you leave the other files. They are classified for the Director only. Alistair always warned me to keep it locked."
"Don't worry. I won't look."

He smiled with thanks and closed the door. My eyes instantly drifted towards the open drawer of the file cabinet, almost seeing through the aluminium to view the coloured files beneath.

Blinking, I shook my head. Collins trusted me, and I was not prepared to betray him for my own curiosity.

I averted my gaze to the file in front of me, engulfing every shred of evidence of Doctor Knight.

His obsession now spanned the globe, his presence being found in Mexico City, Hamburg, Munich, Reykjavik, and Florence. Each of those locations had been littered with clues to his influence, including thrown-out medical equipment, abandoned buildings stained with unusual tissue samples, security footage, and a rise in hospital patients suffering with amnesia and odd changes to their bodies, particularly their endurance, muscle mass and overall health. However, many of these patients did not last long after their admittance, most falling gravely ill after suffering symptoms such as migraines and seizures, before dying painfully. This was all Marcus's doing.

"Find anything interesting?"
Startled, I slammed the file shut, holding it behind me as I spun around to speak to Derek. "No. Just looking over something."
"Really?" He stepped towards me, smiling at the file. "Can I see it?"
I shook my head, stepping back as he laughed while trying to take it. "I really can't, I'm afraid." He opened his mouth to protest. "I can't. Please don't argue with me on this."
He shut his mouth, breathing out a long sigh through his nose while rolling his eyes. "Okay..."

My stomach dropped, fearful I had hurt him, before he tossed his arm over my shoulders, leaning in close to kiss my cheek.
"I'm only joking with you!"
I sighed in relief. "I know." I put on a smile while clutching the folder more tightly behind my back.

Derek's mischievous eyes wandered over to the file cabinet, a fractious look crossing his face.

"No."
"Just one little look," he suggested, taking a step forward.
I blocked his path. "You've just been promoted and now you want to break the rules?"
"Rules were made to be broken." He shrugged with sidestepped that I mirrored.
"I thought I said no."
"And that should make a difference?" he sassed.
I feigned a gasp. "Of course! My word is law, after all."
"Ah." He clicked his tongue. "I forget you're uptight."
"I am not uptight."
He snorted. "You are a bit."
"I am not."
"Yes, you are."
"I am—"

He clamped a hand over my mouth, getting a well-deserved scowl over his knuckles. It only made him laugh as I shoved his hands away.

"I win," he said.
"That's cheating," I scoffed. "It doesn't count."
"I was smart enough to shut you up. Therefore, I win."
I groaned. "Covering my mouth to take away my voice doesn't count as—"

He cut me off again with the rough press of his lips against mine, his hand resting on the back of my neck as his thumb gently stroked my jaw. I smiled at the buzz, and paused for a moment when our lips parted before heading back to the cabinet to put the file away.

I pointed at him. "That still counts as cheating."

He threw his head back in laughter as I turned back to slide Marcus's file into the right place. Beside his, I caught the printed names of others.

The files kept in the aluminium cabinet were the most classified, with only the Director, Second-in-Command and specific members of the Government having access to them. There was a fresh red file for Alistair, the binding barely creased with the ink dark and bold, to replace his old, self-written one as Director. The others that surrounded it were familiar to me: Sienna Li, Annabelle Riley, Victor Arnold. Agent's files were there too, most of them – such as Scotty's and Collins's – being blue, but others stood out in a deep purple. I skimmed some of the names: Harry Skyler, Kaleb Eastwood, Rose Greyson, Derek Barnes... and my own.

I frowned. Compared to the others, my file was painfully thick, the purple edges of the file frayed with age, the dust-covered ink of my name faded to grey. The tips of my fingers twitched with anticipation, an internal tug urging me to pick up the file and consume word after word.

"Barnes; Knight!"

I slammed the drawer, letting it rattle shut as I turned around. Collins re-entered the room, eyes flitting towards the file cabinet, with Gabby following him closely behind.

I joined the trio, finding Scotty's figure bobbing towards the room passed Collins's shoulders. I nodded in greeting, but his narrowed eyes were on Derek, who shook his head.
"Why does he hate me so much?" Derek whispered.
"He's just being a friend," I replied. "Don't mind him."

Collins shuffled on his feet then took a steadying breath, posture lifting.
"As the agency has just reopened officially, I thought it fitting to assign the first mission to you."
I looked around us. "Who?"
He smiled. "All of you. This group stopped Alistair. I believe, with some work, it can become an efficient team one day."
Scotty blinked and pointed to Derek. "You want me to work with him?" I held my breath. Considering his reaction to Derek having the same job title as us...
Collins fixed his blazer, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes."
"That's not going to work out very well, I'm afraid," said Derek.
"Yeah, what if Barnes falls out of the helicopter?" asked Scotty. I facepalmed with a groan.
Derek forced a smile. "The same thing that happens if you accidentally topple down the stairs. Accidents happen."
"Yes," said Scotty. "Accidents."
"It's going to have to work," said Collins. "I need a few agents for this mission, and I trust you four to get the job done."

The two of them sighed but reined in the argument for another day outside of Collins's earshot.

Gabby cleared her throat. "I don't want to be rude, but do I have to do fieldwork again? After last time, I'm not sure if I can do that."
"No need to worry," Collins assured her. "But I would like you to try out some reconnaissance work, if that is alright with you." I shared a look with her – that was a big step up from being solely a secretary – but it made sense. She was the one who found the evidence to incriminate Alistair.
She nodded, glowing with a smile. "Yes! Of course. More than alright."

"So," said Collins, looking to each of our four eager faces. "Are you up for it?"

Gabby smiled with Scotty nodding.
"I'm in," said Derek. He nudged me but the room already new my answer.

Exhaling, I straightened up.
"Okay Collins," I said. "Where do we start?"