XI. Newark, U.S.

XI. Newark, U.S.

Toby knows that it is standard procedure to separate agents whose work has come under scrutiny as early as possible. After a nineteen-hour flight, with distant pain still radiating from his left hand, he doesn't care about standard procedure.

He wants his bed, and he wants Mike. Anything else is optional.

Instead, he's ushered into a small meeting room in the belly of Kroning Ltd.'s office building, dark gray carpet and no daylight, the low hum of the air conditioning a constant presence. Welton and the other agent ask for his phone and lock the door when they leave.

Then Toby waits.

And waits.

By the time there are voices in the corridor, he's dozing with his head on the table. He jerks upright and relaxes only when the door opens to allow Liu inside. Liu stops on the threshold to address someone behind him, his voice pitched low. "I said, alone. It is my right to talk to my agent. You want me to cite the rules?"

Whoever dared question Liu's order retreats quickly, and Liu turns with a faint smile. He closes the door with pointed precision before he approaches, the silence hanging heavily between them until Liu breaks it, his tone light. "Well then, my friend. We received the data, so I think we've got a good chance of riding this one out. The pictures are unfortunate, of course."

"Sorry." Toby doesn't know what else he could possibly say.

"Are you?" Half-sitting on the table, Liu looks down at Toby, no reproach in his gaze. "Because from what I gathered, Mike bailed you out of a tight spot. If you'd kicked the bucket, I would have expected a big fucking apology. This? It's a glitch."

Toby looks away. Fuck, he's tired. Each time he blinks, it feels like tiny grains of sand are scraping over his eyeballs. "A public shooting wasn't on the task list."

"Dying wasn't either." Liu slouches lower, silent for a long moment. "I'd like to thank Mike for keeping you alive. He's an outside contract, unfortunately, so I can't bully my way into getting a minute alone with him."

Some of Toby's tiredness dissipates as his stomach twists. "He all right?"

Liu's nod is slightly delayed. "They're holding him in a different room."

"Can I…" Toby trails off. "I know I won't be allowed to listen, but could you? He'll appreciate a friendly face. Not that he can't handle himself, and it's not as if he—We completed our mission, right? We just ran into a complication."

"Once again, using full sentences?" If Liu can still take the piss, things aren't that bad. Toby relaxes by a fraction.

"Okay, how's this: get the hell out of here and make sure that Mike is all right, or I will hold you personally responsible. Trust me, it won't be pretty."

"Better." Liu stretches leisurely before he pushes off the table and lightly touches Toby's shoulder. "I was going to check on him anyway. In the meantime" —his smile flashes quick and genuine— "I'll have Jesy find you a quiet room so you can catch some sleep. No subordinate of mine will be subjected to sleep deprivation as an interrogation technique."

As long as Mike's under scrutiny, Toby doubts he'll be able to get much rest beyond a light doze. "I'd rather watch them question Mike," he says. "But I guess that's out, so yeah, lying down would be appreciated."

Liu's gaze turns unfocused for a moment before he nods. "Well, it's not in my power to let you sit in on Mike's interrogation. All I can offer is the couch in my office; I'll tell Mirjam to prevent anyone from disturbing you until you're up for questioning. How's that?"

"I know I don't say it often enough, but..." Toby manages to drag up a smile. "You're a good boss and a better friend. Thanks, man."

Liu claps him on the back. "Don't get too sentimental on me. I might get worried."

"I'm fine." Toby isn't and Liu's sharp look implies that he knows.

"Of course," is all Liu says, though. "Now, I'm off to send good vibes in Mike's general direction. Jesy will come and get you in a few minutes. Hang tight."

"Like a sloth." At Liu's questioning glance, Toby elaborates. "Feet over head, clinging to a fragile branch with my bare toes."

Liu gives him one of his wide, true smiles that never fail to take Toby by surprise. "It'll be fine, Toby. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Your positive attitude is messing with my emo," Toby tells him.

"Glad to hear it." With another grin, Liu opens the door and steps out into the corridor. Toby hears him exchange a few words with someone outside, voices fading as Liu departs. The ensuing quiet wraps Toby up like a thick, stifling blanket.

***

Fortunately, Liu wasn't exaggerating when he said Jesy would be there soon. It's some fifteen minutes later when she peers into the room, her serious expression shifting into a wide smile when she sees him. Yeah, Toby can sort of see the family resemblance.

"Toby, hey!" She enters, but leaves the door open. "Liu told me to take you to his office."

"That's just about the best thing I've heard all day." Toby pushes himself to his feet, his balance slightly off, and fuck, it's been a long day, a fucking endless day that started years ago, when they first got ready to break into Chan Teck Soon's office. It's been a whiplash change of highs and lows, insufficient naps on the flight, stolen touches while trying to avoid undue attention, and maybe Toby bent the truth a little when he said it might be the best thing he heard all day because Mike said—

Not thinking about all the ways their grand plan got sidetracked.

Jesy's dimples deepen. "Would you like me to find you a coffee once I've dropped you off?"

"You." Toby points at her. "You are by far the most beautiful person I have seen since those thugs dragged me off kicking and screaming at the airport."

She gestures for him to join her. "They told me you came with minimum fuss, gentle as a dove."

"More like a sacrificial lamb." Toby meets her at the door, pleased to see that there is no one standing guard outside anymore. At least they give him enough credit to believe that he isn't stupid enough to run. He wouldn't get far with the entire Agency chasing after him.

Also, he isn't about to leave Mike alone in this.

"A lamb? More like a black sheep, if you ask me." Leading the way to the elevator, she nods at Toby's dyed dark hair, part of the rushed change in appearances he and Mike executed before they drove to the airport in Singapore.

"Sheep or lamb, I am having a bad day. A monumentally bad day." Toby sighs. "Is going home really too much to ask? I mean, is it? Because I think I deserve it. We deserve it."

"Well." Jesy looks back over her shoulder, an impish expression on her face. The elevator doors slide open just as she says, "I hope you did at least manage to join the Mile-High Club."

Liu can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to Jesy. Good to know.

"I am not answering that." Toby walks past her with as much dignity as he can muster. "Also, you know nothing, young lady."

"I take it that's a no. You'd be in a far better mood otherwise." Voice cheerful, Jesy presses the button for the thirteenth floor. They ride in silence for a few moments before she adds, softer, "And Toby, I'm glad you're okay. It sucks that they're making things difficult when you got the job done, and all Mike did was keep you alive."

The numbers flash by on the small panel. Toby tries not to stare at his own tense face in the mirrored wall, skin tone rivaling that of a ghost. "Guess a public shooting wasn't part of the plan."

"They tried to keep Liu away from Mike's interrogation by authorizing him to access the live stream," Jesy says, apropos of nothing. "But of course he's there in person."

"Good. I'm grateful."

"You should be." There's a strange weight to it, like she's trying to make a point. Toby squints at her.

"Okay, what am I missing?"

"Mike?" she suggests, with a grin.

"Cheap shot, babe."

"That's Agent Cruise for you, babe." It takes a split-second for her proud grin to emerge, and Toby blinks before he leans forward to give her a one-armed hug.

"Congratulations." He pulls back, and this time, the smile comes much more easily. "Seriously, I'm gone for one week and suddenly you're all grown-up and whatnot? Warn a guy."

Jesy laughs as she steps out of the elevator. "The way you talk, you're going to give yourself a heart-attack before you turn thirty-five." Slowing down, she waits for Toby to fall into step before she opens the outer door to Liu's office, which will take them past Mirjam's desk out of necessity.

Not that Toby minds; he likes Mirjam. Jesy, on the other hand, barely breaks her stride.

"I have clearance to take Agent Brown into Liu's office. Liu told me" —there is an uncommon smugness to Jesy's tone— "that he is not to be disturbed until they're asking for him."

Mirjam's expression is mildly strained in a way Toby has never seen before. "Fine. I'll see to it."

"Fine," Jesy says.

"Fine," Mirjam says. She turns to Toby and gives him an honest smile, all sharpness fading from her tone. "Glad you're all right, Toby."

Toby clears his throat and returns the smile. "Thank you. I must say, I could have done without the welcome-back committee."

"I can imagine." Mirjam laughs, but trails off rather abruptly with a sideways look at Jesy. Jesus, emotions really do make people stupid—Toby considers himself a prime example. Of course, ten-thousand miles away and dead, Ken isn't much of a competition anymore.

Come to think of it, maybe he never was.

Holding the door open, Jesy gestures for Toby to enter Liu's office. He complies with an awkward half-wave at Mirjam, immediately directing his steps towards the couch. A couch isn't a bed, and neither is it a hot shower and Mike beside him, but it's a start. Honestly, Toby would be fine postponing sex until tomorrow as long as he can fall asleep with Mike right next to him.

Christ, he's so gone.

"Hey," Jesy says from the desk. "Liu forgot to lock his computer. How strange." Toby glances up to find her pointedly not looking at him as she shrugs and moves back to the door without touching the keyboard. What the—oh.

The interrogation.

"Thank you, Jesy." Toby emphasizes each word, and Jesy lingers for a quick smile before she closes the door, promising to return with coffee before leaving Toby alone in Liu's soundproof office. He counts to ten, then moves for the desk.

The video is right there, already open on the Agency's intranet page—Liu deserves a fucking flower bouquet, a fruit basket, a new Mercedes. Toby hits play, and slowly sinks into Liu's chair as he waits for the video to load.

The sound comes first: a dry cough and Welton's steely voice. "You were out of control, Agent."

The image assembles just in time for Toby to make out Mike, shifting his weight from one leg to the other before he answers. "I did what had to be done."

He sounds calm, sure of himself, his posture untroubled. The resolution isn't the best, the camera catching the entirety of the small room to show Mike standing in front of Welton and two other agents, all three seated at a long table with Liu in another chair, slightly off to the side. There's an empty chair next to Mike that he clearly chose to disregard and yeah, he would. God, he's an idiot. A proud, beautiful idiot, and Toby exhales, closing his eyes as Welton speaks again.

"Please explain your actions."

"My partner was in danger." Mike says it slowly, like someone talking to a child. "My partner was in danger, and there was something I could do about it."

"You caused a diplomatic incident," Welton barks. Toby opens his eyes and finds the man leaning forward, halfway across the table as he stares at Mike. Toby wouldn't mind punching him—a nice, well-placed fist should be enough to make this asshole back off.

Mike stares right back. "It was necessary."

"You explicitly disregardedthe rules, Agent."

"Excuse me, but…" Mike lifts one shoulder, an almost cheerful note to his voice. "Fuck the rules."

Welton is quiet for all of three seconds before he sits back and jots something down on a notepad. When he looks up again, he seems oddly satisfied, as though he gets off on catching an agent guilty of misconduct—for all Toby knows, it's part of the bastard's bonus plan. Fuck him. Also, fuck the Agency and their stupid rules that put Mike in trouble for saving Toby's life.

On that note, fuck Mike for making Toby feel like this: helpless and tangled up inside, forced to watch from the sidelines. Fuck Mike for being loyal and passionate and crazy and absolutely, completely irresistible. Just… fuck.

Toby scrubs both hands over his face before he exhales heavily. He doesn't want to listen anymore, but Welton's voice could cut through glass.

"You are out of line, Agent."

"You want to know what's really out of line?" For the first time, Mike's tone shows traces of agitation. "The fact that you expect me to desert my partner."

Welton sets his pen down and assesses Mike, his posture signaling that he's not impressed. It doesn't exactly lessen Toby's desire to punch the guy. "Did Agent Brown ask for your assistance?"

Mike hesitates for a moment, so brief that Toby almost misses it. Then Mike shakes his head and crosses his arms. "No. He told me to get on the next plane."

Dammit, Mike.

"And you disregarded his request?" Welton asks, just as a soft knock at Liu's office door startles Toby. Jesy, back so soon? He hurries to close the browser, jumping up from the chair and knocking over a stack of opened mail, paper scattering. He collects it with quick fingers, gets momentarily distracted by the official seal of the Hawaiian Government instant. Then everything is back in its rightful place, and he crosses over to the door, schooling his features into those of someone just woken from a badly needed nap.

He doesn't feel tired anymore.

"Yeah?" Pulling the door open, he finds Mirjam waiting on the other side, an apologetic expression on her face. Two agents Toby has only ever seen in passing are standing behind her, towering in a most obvious manner. Toby hates them on sight.

"I'm sorry, Toby." Mirjam frowns at them before turning back to give Toby a gentle smile. "I thought you'd have more time for a nap, but they're ready for you."

Toby raises his chin. "Fine."

***

They are not ready for Toby.

If they were, they wouldn't keep him waiting in a meeting room adjacent to the one where Mike's questioning is taking place. For a few minutes, he hears the murmur of voices through the wall, no words clearly discernible, then chairs scrape over the floor and everything quiets.

By the time Welton enters, waking Toby from a light doze, Toby doesn't know how much time has passed. There is no clock to give him a precise idea, but this room does have windows, so he can make an educated guess: going by the angle of the sun, it must be some time after four. They kept him waiting for roughly two hours, door locked, not even a bottle of water to keep him afloat.

Nice of them to treat him with all the cordiality extended to an esteemed member of the staff. He'll be expecting his ‘employee of the month' badge any moment now.

"Agent Brown," Welton says with a cheerful lilt to the title. He gestures for Toby to remain seated even as he himself stays standing, framed by two more agents from the Misconduct Squad. "There are just a few quick things we need you to confirm. Is it true you told Agent Redding to finish the upload first and foremost?"

If Toby says yes, he confirms Mike's words and simultaneously gets him in trouble. If he says no, he brands Mike a liar, but a liar who didn't blatantly disregard an instruction to put the job first. There's no winning this one.

Toby lifts his shoulders, first one, then the other, before he slowly shakes his head. "No clue. It's wiped from my brain. I honestly just don't remember."

Welton ignores Toby's lack of an answer, his superior smile raising Toby's hackles. It's the kind of smile that would be significantly improved if it met a fist. "You also told him that once the upload was done, he should leave the country and not come for you. Correct?"

Countering Welton's smile with a blatant stare, Toby keeps his voice even. "What does it matter?"

"You know the rules, Agent Brown." For the first time, Welton's good-humored facade cracks slightly, his tone sharpened by a hint of irritation. "You are well aware that Agent Redding should not have come to your aid."

Is that asshole seriously asking Toby to confirm that Mike should have left him to die? In what universe does he think that will happen?

Just then, Liu enters the room, his quick gaze assessing the situation. He meets Toby's frown with a nod and an upwards tilt to one corner of his mouth, then stays near the door as Toby gets to his feet. He won't be talked down to by some agent who probably hasn't set foot in a foreign country in years.

"Listen. Agent Welton, is it?" Toby continues without missing a beat. "I am damn glad he came because trust me, things didn't look good." He raises his hand, the bandage around his pinky worn from the trip. "As it is, I'm missing a fingernail, and my rib's a bit sore, but that's it. If you want me to complain about Agent Redding, you're barking up the wrong tree." Crossing his arms, Toby raises both brows. "Also, I dare you to look me right in the eyes and tell me that he should have let me die."

"The rules say—"

"Oh, the rules. Sure." Toby takes a step closer, and even though Welton is taller, he shrinks back when Toby leans forward and right into the man's space. He's breathing eau d'asshole, but it's a price he's willing to pay. "You, okay? You spend your days in this nice, cozy building, and I bet your desk comes with a particularly nice, comfy chair. It does, doesn't it?" One of Welton's sidekicks gets a pinched look, and Liu starts grinning. Toby considers it confirmation. "My point," he continues, "is that it wasn't you tied up and outnumbered. Which means that you have no fucking clue what the hell you're talking about."

Welton's expression is stoic. "Watch your language, Agent."

"Watch me walk out this door, Agent." Marching past the trio, unhindered, Toby does just that, Liu stepping aside to let him pass.

"Agent Brown," Welton calls after him, voice rising. "We are not done. Further contact between Agent Redding and you is strictly discouraged."

"Actually?" Toby turns around for only the shortest of looks. "We are done. We are so done."

It feels deeply satisfying to slam the door on his way out.

***

There's a new receptionist behind the desk, who looks up with an air of confusion when Toby stomps past. Liu catches up just as Toby's about to leave the building.

"Feel better?" Liu asks brightly.

"Marginally. Punching him would have been the icing on the cake, though." The rotating glass door isn't fast enough for the restless energy simmering in Toby's bones; he considers kicking it, but with his luck, he'd break a toe. Switching his suitcase to his other hand, he inches forward.

The fresh air feels amazing on his heated face, and he waits for Liu to catch up. Liu does so with an amused, "Well, you won't hear me argue. Always thought Welton had the kind of face that would go particularly well with a black eye."

"Best boss ever," Toby tells him. Further down the road, he spots the coffee shop, the one with the lukewarm coffee and the inability to prepare a beverage with soy milk. He averts his eyes and finds Liu watching him intently.

"Mike," Liu begins carefully, "sold himself pretty badly in there."

Yeah, that's what Toby thought. He exhales in a rush. "You think he took the fall for me."

"I think" —Liu hesitates— "that he knows how much this job means to you."

"He's an idiot," Toby decides. There, a free cab! He waves it over before turning back to Liu. "I didn't need him to save me like some fucking damsel in distress. We could have pulled this off without him jumping headfirst into the meat grinder." The air is getting slightly scarce in his lungs, so Toby takes a quick breath. He doesn't remember his suitcase being this heavy. "There was cause for a deviation from protocol, and sure, a diplomatic incident doesn't look good, but with the amount of money that's been invested in my training, I'm a valuable government asset, so don't you think—"

"It doesn't matter what I think," Liu interrupts. "What matters is Mike's take on this. If he thought there was a risk that it would break both of your necks, it made sense for him to take all the blame."

"He's a stupid, brave idiot." It comes out openly affectionate, and Toby doesn't care. He turns away as the taxi pulls up, but Liu's hand on his shoulder holds him back before he can slide into the back seat.

"Where are you going?"

"To Mike's hotel." Toby shoves his suitcase into the taxi before he catches sight of Liu's expression. His stomach drops. "What?" he asks. "Liu Wei Zhou, what is that face?"

Liu tightens his grip on Toby's shoulder, fingers digging in. A deep line appears between his brows. "They consider him a bad influence—a disruption of the Agency's workflow. His contract has been suspended, effective immediately."

"So?"

"When Welton told you that further contact between the two of you is discouraged? You know that means forbidden."

Toby frowns. "See if I care."

Keeping his hold on Toby, Liu reaches past him to retrieve the suitcase from the backseat. He sets it down on the sidewalk, then slams the door shut and raps on the roof.

"What are you doing?" Toby asks softly.

Liu waits until the taxi has driven off before he meets Toby's eyes. "Mike is probably on his way to the airport by now—they escorted him to the hotel while you were kept waiting. I'm sorry."

"They can't do that." Toby takes a step back, shaking his head. His throat is dry, desert-dry, like sand rubbing over his palate. "They can't just shoo him out of the city like he's a cat that walked into the neighbor's house."

"Unfortunately, they can." Liu splays his fingers. "It's complicated, but since he's not on a normal contract, yeah, they can. Or rather, they can give him a choice: either he voluntarily removes himself, or they lend him out to an organization that will take him entirely out of the country."

There must be something wrong with Toby's vision because he has trouble focusing, exhaustion blurring all edges. "He's not a commodity."

"He is." Liu sounds pained. "So are you. So is every agent working in the field. Did you not hear them in there?" He lets his arms sink to his sides, looking away. "An expensive investment, granted, and mutually agreeable solutions are preferred. But in the end, you're a commodity, to be employed in whatever way most benefits the country."

"You don't think like that," Toby says. It's not a question, but Liu replies anyway.

"No. Of course I don't."

Toby thinks about sitting down, right here on the sidewalk, like a three-year-old at the end of his wits. He needs sleep. Fuck, he needs sleep. His body didn't weigh a ton last time he checked. "Did you get to talk to him?"

Liu shakes his head. "Not alone."

"Fuck." Toby runs a hand through his hair. It feels sweaty and disgusting; he feels sweaty and disgusting. "Jesus fuck, why is this—How is that fair? I can't just fly after him, right? I mean, how ridiculous would that be?" He lets his shoulders sag and kicks the suitcase. It skids a few feet on the pavement, which doesn't make him feel better at all. Toby turns away. There's a short pause before he adds, "Not to mention I don't even know his real fucking name."

"Toby." Now Liu seems amused, if slightly impatient. "Is it really so hard? Do I need to spell it out?"

Mike might have made a joke about how yes, it's very hard, thank you. Toby is utterly incapable of formulating even just a simple answer.

"Seriously, man." Stepping up beside Toby, Liu bumps their shoulders together, his voice gentle. "Don't you think Mike has proven himself enough by now?"

Toby turns his head just enough to make out the blurred line of Liu's profile. The gray sky seems bleak all of a sudden, heavy with clouds that hide the sun, nothing to remind Toby of the heat and brightness of a Costa Rican Beach. He likes this city—it holds Matt and Haley and the few friends he can afford, but right now, he barely recognizes it. His suitcase looks displaced on the sidewalk, as displaced as Toby feels in his own skin.

Inhaling air that tastes of concrete and exhaust fumes, he picks up his suitcase, then turns to face Liu. "I request a leave of absence."

Liu's smile is brilliant. "Granted. Take as long as you need."

***

Toby expected to feel better after ten hours of sleep, but no. His eyes are no longer itchy with tiredness, but his thoughts remain a jumbled mess, and the espresso—double shot, no sugar—produced by his expensive coffee machine tastes like dishwater. After emptying the murky-brown liquid into the sink, he leaves the cup on the kitchen counter and grabs his running shoes.

It's been a while since he went running in the streets; he mostly uses the Agency's fitness facility these days. He has almost forgotten what the sidewalks feel like under his soles, the sound of his feet on the pavement, the delicate burn in his legs after thirty-five minutes in the anaerobic zone. His head is blessedly empty as he slows down, the concrete buildings that surround him less oppressive than they seemed before.

From what Toby has seen, Hawaii is blue skies and beaches that flow into the ocean, palm trees and bright colors. An American-style version of Costa Rica, with better roads and worse pizza.

Leaning against the side of a business building, Toby rewards his body with a two-minute break. Then he turns around, dodging well-dressed office workers, on his way back to an apartment where unpacked boxes are still scattered around the living room.

Hawaii.

Mike spent at least part of his childhood in Hawaii. He has a sister called Mary. His father was a high-ranking policeman. Roughly two decades ago, both Mike's father and mother died in what might have been disguised as a traffic accident.

It isn't exactly the most challenging research Toby's done.

***

Staten. Michael Staten.

Mike.