After three hours of Jake sitting in front of a computer, running routing numbers in an effort to find who paid a half million dollars into Vasily Koronkiewicz’s bank account,
Kyle can’t take it anymore.
Coffee, strong coffee at that, is a necessity, for Jake as well as for him, so it’s off to the one place in the entire NSA building where he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that the best coffee is to be found.
He’s careful when he walks into the lab, looking around him, just like he would when scouting any new location when out in the field, and he’s relieved when he sees that there is no-one around.
It’s hardly the first time that he’s snuck down to the lab in search of coffee, or oftentimes in search of something else, but those times are long past now.
He knows that, but still, when he walks into the lab, it’s like his mind plays tricks on him, the fabric of time folding in upon itself, and he’s just a guy who’s sneaking around,
trying to catch his girlfriend unawares.
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