With a six-pack of beer in one hand, Jay walked down the corridor to Damien’s quarters. Another operative was coming toward him, probably heading to the mess for a late-night snack. Food at the Desecheo Island R&D facility—Project GATE’s forward-operating base—was available at all hours, which Jay regularly took advantage of. The operative strode past him. He’d had a few beers, but still managed to recognize her from a previous operation in the Balkans. Grace. He winked at her. She glared at him from under her sharp black bangs.
It took Jay a while to find Damien’s room, which he blamed on his blood alcohol level. He knocked twice, then heard Damien yell in Italian. He sounded upset.
‘Hey!’ Jay said. ‘Damien?’
He tested the door handle. It was unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside.
