Teresa continued to stare in the direction “Mister Knight” walked before the crowd swallowed him. She glanced around the room for Candace, but she had likely already left with her target. A squawk in her ear indicated she had an incoming call.
She pressed the wireless device in her ear. “This is Teresa.”
“Teresa, it’s Lance.”
“Colonel?” she gasped. “Where have you been?”
“Indisposed.” There was finality in his one-word answer. Despite her reporter instincts, Teresa decided not to press. “What’s your status?”
“I was on assignment, but I think my target left with her sleeping partner.” A croupier watched from a card table. Teresa turned her back to the man and continued in a whisper. “I met someone calling himself ‘Mister Knight’.”
There was a pause while presumably, Colonel Bishop considered a response. “Tell me about it at headquarters. We’ll be there soon.” He disconnected the call.
We? Teresa thought as she headed for the door. This just gets more and more interesting.
* * *
Still in her evening gown, Teresa arrived at headquarters intent on getting to Bishop’s office. She paused when she passed through a room and a young girl her own age was sitting next to an older woman, deep in conversation. She tried to place either of them, but keeping track of who was who was a tedious job, even without the ability to switch bodies. She continued on her path to Bishop’s office.
Headquarters was arranged in a narrow row with the multi-purpose room near the hidden entrance, followed by living quarters, then the analysis room. In this room she stopped and watched for a moment as computer screens compared a photo of a college-aged girl to surveillance cameras around the city. Whoever this girl was, the team was expending enormous resources to locate her.
Teresa scowled, and wondered if they were using the same amount of resources to pursue John Michaels. She knew he had something to do with the president, and as such was nearly untouchable, but she wanted her revenge. A tech looked over his shoulder and pressed a button on his console, darkening all the screens. She rolled her eyes, and walked down the hall toward Bishop’s office.
When she arrived, she peeked in and saw Bishop examining himself in a mirror. His wrists were raw, and thee was caked blood on his face and shirt. “Mister Knight would like his tie pin back,” she said walking into the office.
Bishop spun and stared at Teresa. “I know why the caged bird kills.”