“I’m aware.”
“Uh... yeah. It didn’t make sense, since mostly younger agents go there. Like I mentioned. So I… uh… followed him.”
“How did you even know who Gershom was?”
“My mole—before she did a disappearing act—made sure I had photos of every agent and director in the WBIS.”
“Jesus, David Brendan, do you realize the danger in which you could have placed yourself?”
“I was fine, Quinn—Gershom doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall—but I appreciate your concern.”
Perhaps Gershom didn’t, but one of the other agents could have recognized him. DB’s face wasn’t plastered all over the news media, and for the most part he worked within the offices at Langley, but there was always the possibility our likenesses were in a database at the WBIS, just like, as it now seemed, theirs were in the
