17. A Halfway Love

Somewhere here on the rooftop deck, the party was still going. But Sydney didn't head in its direction, nor did she want to be anywhere in the adjoining suite near Winter. She needed to be far from the others, where she could calm down.

What a strange concept. Never in her career had Sydney ever struggled to keep a cool head during a mission, especially not over a partner. But she could still see Winter's stricken expression as he poured his heart out, then as she reacted by leaving. She felt sick to her stomach, like someone had kicked her. Like she had kicked someone.

Why did it matter so much to her how he felt? She couldn't understand it, this feeling of terror and disgust twisting in her stomach. She certainly wasn't in love with him. Was she? Perhaps it was a confluence of being here, having her life threatened at every turn, having a sniper's target on her body just hours earlier, having to work with Tems to keep the world order. But she had been in predicaments before. She had been able to manage things.

Winter. Winter was the reason. Winter was the difference. She stopped in a quiet corner of the rooftop beside a cluster of trees and breathed deeply, trying to settle her stomach. She hated that Winter was right. Why was she getting so worked up about the song? There was no way anyone could trace it to her, not logically, not beyond it being some vague rumor to join the thousands of vague rumors swirling around Winter every day. But she was afraid all the same, terrified that something between them had broken down, that some barrier had been shattered. She felt a soft spot exposed in her heart, ready to be wounded.

And this wasn't a line of business where she could afford to be wounded by a personal bond.

An incoming call made her look at her phone. It was Niall.

She inhaled deeply, composed herself, and picked up. "Je suis toute seule," she said. I'm alone.

"Good," Niall said. "So where's Tems?"

She blinked. The beat of hesitation gave her away. Niall had figured out their secret.

"Next time I see you," he grumbled, "you can try explaining to me why you lied to my face."

"I don't know where he is, Niall," she said in a low voice. "Not right now, at least. He's not staying at our hotel."

"But you've both made contact with him. You've seen him in person."

She bit her lip. "Yes."

Niall let out a long sigh. "Okay," he said. "Why?"

She could keep her promise to Tems and not let Niall in on everything. But the argument she'd just had with Winter had left her raw and bleeding. "Tems uncovered our lead on Seah first," she said. "That's why I trailed him at the stadium."

"Tems roped you into a rogue mission?"

"We made the choice ourselves. He was afraid that you'd force him back before he could get to the bottom of the ploy."

Niall made some sort of swearing sound on the other end, although Sydney couldn't quite make out what he said. "He never changes, that boy," the man muttered.

"Are you going to pull us off the mission?" she asked tightly.

Niall hesitated, and for a moment, all Sydney could hear was the whistling of the wind and distant laughter from the party. "The plan was to set you all up properly at the gala tomorrow," he finally said. "It's too late to pull Winter back without ruffling feathers and drawing attention."

A ribbon of hope cut through Sydney's roiling emotions. "You'll still be there, then?"

"The CIA has me stationed at the side entrance," he said. "You'll still see my car waiting there."

"And our flight out?" she asked.

"Will still be at the airfield for you and Tems. But I'm warning you, Cossette. No more antics."

"You don't want to see Rosen harmed any more than we do," she replied.

"Something I'm sure you were banking on." He sighed. "I had a feeling Tems would be a bad influence on you."

"I'm a bad enough influence all on my own."

Niall snorted, and Sydney imagined him smiling on the other side, in spite of himself. It was a small comfort, at least, to hear him in this moment. "Listen carefully. We still can't track the identity of your attacker. And although the guest list at the gala is tightly vetted, with no firearms allowed in, I can't promise that you won't be in danger at the venue."

"I've been targeted before," Sydney said. "I'll be in my suit. I've got all my toys, too."

"Just keep your eyes open. It's likely that Seah has others working with him there."

"I'll be careful," she said gently. "I promise."

There was another pause, but Niall seemed satisfied enough. "Don't let Tems lead you and Winter too astray."

"You know he absolutely will."

"Yeah, I know." Niall made another annoyed sound in his throat. "Sometimes, I swear, it's not worth the effort to save him."

Sydney let herself smile a little at that. "We're all lucky to have you, sir."

Niall grunted. "Get some rest tonight. You'll need it."

She didn't mention the fight between her and Winter. Far be it from her to add more stress to Niall's mission. "You too," she replied.

Niall hung up first. Sydney put her phone down and stared out at the nightscape, her thoughts a blur, letting the weight of the mission push against her.

Will still be at the airfield for you and Tems.

If all went according to plan, she had twelve hours left with Winter before they separated again. Most likely, it'd be a separation even more abrupt than their first mission—no proper goodbyes, no farewell embrace. And with the way their conversation had unraveled tonight, maybe not even the feeling of a dignified ending. They'd simply turn their backs on each other, hurting and full of grief, and walk away.

And wasn't that fine? Did it even matter, if they'd never see each other again?

A movement in the shadows near her made her startle. She whirled, her body already tensing into a defensive attack posture—only to see Tems emerge from the darkness with his hands in his pockets.

"Syd," he said in greeting, coming over to stand next to her.

She lowered her arms. "Hey," she said.

He stared out at the cityscape with her. "That was Niall, wasn't it?" he said.

She glanced at him. "Didn't think anyone was close enough to hear."

"I didn't. I just figured, since you look stressed."

"I think you're mistaking your feelings about Niall for mine."

He laughed a little. "Fair enough." He was silent for a moment. "He knows, doesn't he?"

"He knows," she replied with a nod.

"Is he going to let us proceed?"

"Yes."

Tems lowered his shoulders and seemed to relax a little at that. "Confirmation of our plane at the airfield tomorrow evening?"

"Yes. Niall confirmed. Nineteen hundred hours."

"Good," he said. "We won't have time afterward to delay. It'll need to be ready by the time we are."

"It'll be ready." She turned from the scene to face him. "Does the CIA have the footage? Do I need to contact them?"

"They've got everything," Tems said. "No need to make contact. I'll check that they're in place for us."

"Ordering them around now, are you?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

He gave her a sidelong smile. "I've built a nice enough rapport with them."

"What about Seah?"

"Force him to get up out of his seat, however you can, as soon as you can. Before he can settle down to do anything. We'll need to move fast and immediately."

Sydney nodded. "This will be a better job for Winter."

"Fine." An edge appeared in Tems's voice. "Whatever works. Have Winter get Seah to the hallway leading to the main entrance, past the coat check. I'll be waiting there with the CIA to arrest him. We need him away from the president, understood? I have a suspicion he has a backup plan in case things go wrong, and we can't afford for him to be near Rosen when he realizes we're onto him."

"And then we head out for the waiting plane," she finished. "Winter returns to his team."

"And we're done," he said.

And we're done.

"Done," Sydney confirmed, keeping her answer crisp and cool. But the storm in her chest twisted painfully.

In the silence that followed, Tems glanced down at his feet. "Syd, do you remember the day we graduated from Panacea?"

It had been an unseasonably warm afternoon in May, the sky overcast. Sydney had sat at a table in the Claremont's restaurant with Tems and several other graduates, had listened to a series of speeches, had received the hotel's business card and tucked it into her wallet.

"Of course," she said.

"Do you remember what we said to each other that day?"

She'd only exchanged a line or two with Tems, who had been seated at the opposite end of the table. "I told you, ‘Congrats on marrying our work.'"

He smiled at her. "And I told you, ‘Thanks for coming to my wedding.'"

They both had to chuckle at the memory, and Sydney found herself missing that more innocent version of themselves. They were so young and so eager to get out in the field, so excited to dedicate their entire lives to this profession, so clueless over what that sacrifice really meant.

"I shouldn't have left you behind in Stockholm," he said after a pause.

She glanced at him. "Why did you leave so suddenly, anyway?"

"A friend of mine had been killed that night." He stared out at the city. "I had to act quickly, before his attacker got away."

Killed in action. So that was the reason. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's all part of marrying this job, isn't it?"

"You never told me."

He gave her a sidelong look. "You know I couldn't have."

And he was right, of course. They had grown closer during that unexpected tryst, their paths intersecting longer than they should have. Tems was never meant to share the details of that mission with her.

"I know," she replied.

"It's hard to have casual conversations," he went on, "when you don't know whether or not you'll live or die the next day."

She imagined what might happen tomorrow, how a million things could go wrong. How they might not make it out at the end. She remembered the stricken look in Winter's eyes, the fear that had shot through his expression after the first attempt on her life. This was familiar ground, at least, this not knowing. Tonight might be the last time she exchanged words with any of them.

"It's all part of marrying this job," she said, echoing his earlier words.

Tems nodded. "If it weren't," he said, "I'd ask you if you'd like to go on a date sometime. I'd ask you what your favorite restaurant was, what you like to eat." He gave her a crooked smile in the night. "I'd ask you if you wanted to stay over, or if you wanted to take it slow."

Sydney didn't know what to say to that. Was there anything? She found herself thinking of Winter, of the impossibility of being together. Sometimes, she had a fantasy of what it would be like if they just stepped away from their lives right now. Him from the spotlight, her from the secret world. What it would be like if they could just disappear together into the crowded street outside of their hotel, safe in the anonymity of a mass of humanity.

In another life, that could be the easiest decision in the world.

But it wasn't—they were in this life, and in this life, the scenario was impossible. So what was the point of thinking it? She and Winter had less than twelve hours left together on this mission, and after that stretched another unknown period of time, where she might not see him again for months, maybe years.

Or maybe ever again.

But Tems, at least, walked in the shadows like she did. He understood the nature of her work, knew what could happen and what couldn't. He didn't hang on to wild dreams in the way Winter did. He didn't have that optimism and poetry in his heart. Tems could have a fling and move on without a word. He saw the world the way it was. They could meet on and off for their entire career, if Sydney let them, if they decided to do it.

Maybe Sydney couldn't imagine a love life, but she could imagine a halfway love with Tems, in the way Sauda and Niall managed—nothing exclusive, nothing permanent, just the occasional meetup whenever their missions intersected. A lifetime of unspoken, knowing glances and speaking in secrets.

The thought did not excite her. But she could see herself doing it. She could find small moments of joy in that.

"Are you trying to ask me something, Tems?" she said quietly.

He smiled wryly at her. "An agent never asks directly," he replied. "They only know what makes sense."

What makes sense. And, in a way, they did. She let them stay where they were, standing apart, not speaking. Maybe this was the better, more sensible way.

"If we survive," she said.

"If we survive," he echoed. "So let's try to make it through."

She thought of Winter again, felt the knife twisting in her heart. Then she rebuilt the steel walls around herself, until the fire that consumed her every time she was with him chilled against the metal, trapped and contained. She let the fire wither until it was nothing but ash and deadwood littering the floor of her chest.

Maybe it was for the best that she'd left Winter behind. Best to turn around early on a dead-end street before you walked the entire length of it.

When the wind blew again, Sydney straightened. "Let's just make it through," she agreed.