terrorism training, remember?”
Seth blinked, grimaced, and then blinked again, looking totally disgusted with himself. As if he’d made a foolish mistake and regretted it. “Yeah, I remember.”
Knowing Seth would beat himself up over this for a long time to come without added assistance, Julia turned the
topic, focusing on finding a solution rather than dwelling on a mistake that couldn’t be changed. “So who did you meet with twice—once to switch the badges, and then after the briefing, to switch them back?”
His grim expression turned grimmer. “All of them, including Linda.”
Figured. Nothing could be easy in these situations. The thief would see to that. “Locking down the lab won’t tell us anything, Seth. But it will tell the thief plenty.”
“We sure as hell can’t ignore it.”
“No, we can’t. We’ve had a security breach and we need to do the right thing.” He wasn’t going to like this. How could he? He looked guilty as hell of committing the crime.
And he could be guilty.
Oh, but she hated thinking it, much less testing the possibility for credibility, but in the past three years, he could have changed. Seth could have orchestrated this. “We can delay a little, but then we need to contact the OSI.”
He blew out a long breath, rubbed his palms over his thighs. “You’re right.” His tone deepened, became more somber. “It’s going to look bad for me, Julia.”
“Yes, it will.” She stared him straight in the eye, hating herself for doubting his innocence. Yet doubt was there— and it should be there. Hadn’t he trained her to consider all possibilities, every eventuality, regardless of who was involved? “But no matter how it looks, we have to fulfill our duties, Seth. We can’t compromise them or our integrity.” They would have nothing left, including no self-respect.
He sat silent.
And she worried. What if he asked her to keep the breach confidential until he could prove his innocence? Would she? Could she? She shouldn’t. Certainly she shouldn’t, and yet… She swallowed hard. Oh, but she hoped he didn’t ask.
“My words to you. I remember.” He gripped the chair arms. “I meant them then, and they’re just as true now. We can’t compromise.” He swallowed hard. “We have no choice.”
Through her relief, she felt his resignation, grasped what doing the right thing was costing him personally. And she wondered. If in his position, would she have his courage? She hoped she would, but she couldn’t be sure. Maybe no one could be sure until they were in that position.
He hauled himself out of the chair. His knees cracked, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “For the record, I didn’t do it.”
The flicker of doubt flamed. Never before had Seth felt it necessary to defend himself on ethical issues to her, or to remind her that he had established the ethic. Why now?
Her heart told her that he sensed her skepticism and wanted to put it to rest, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, to trust him. But her head refused to let her do it. She tried to take that leap of faith—really tried—but the lessons she had learned against trusting on faith alone had been ingrained until they were as much a part of her as her DNA. She couldn’t do it, especially when she alone wouldn’t suffer the consequences of making the wrong choice. It wasn’t right to jeopardize unsuspecting others who had entrusted her with the responsibility of making those decisions wisely. That responsibility wasn’t a coat she could just take off and stuff in the closet because suddenly wearing it had become uncomfortable. It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t safe.
Hoping for reassurance and not getting it clearly disappointed Seth, but he quickly shielded it behind remote indifference. “No sense in delaying.” He lifted the phone receiver, punched down the secure-line button, and then dialed the Office of Special Investigations.
“Agent 12, please.” Seth looked
Seth blinked, grimaced, and then blinked again, looking totally disgusted with himself. As if he’d made a foolish mistake and regretted it. “Yeah, I remember.”
Knowing Seth would beat himself up over this for a long time to come without added assistance, Julia turned the
topic, focusing on finding a solution rather than dwelling on a mistake that couldn’t be changed. “So who did you meet with twice—once to switch the badges, and then after the briefing, to switch them back?”
His grim expression turned grimmer. “All of them, including Linda.”
Figured. Nothing could be easy in these situations. The thief would see to that. “Locking down the lab won’t tell us anything, Seth. But it will tell the thief plenty.”
“We sure as hell can’t ignore it.”
“No, we can’t. We’ve had a security breach and we need to do the right thing.” He wasn’t going to like this. How could he? He looked guilty as hell of committing the crime.
And he could be guilty.
Oh, but she hated thinking it, much less testing the possibility for credibility, but in the past three years, he could have changed. Seth could have orchestrated this. “We can delay a little, but then we need to contact the OSI.”
He blew out a long breath, rubbed his palms over his thighs. “You’re right.” His tone deepened, became more somber. “It’s going to look bad for me, Julia.”
“Yes, it will.” She stared him straight in the eye, hating herself for doubting his innocence. Yet doubt was there— and it should be there. Hadn’t he trained her to consider all possibilities, every eventuality, regardless of who was involved? “But no matter how it looks, we have to fulfill our duties, Seth. We can’t compromise them or our integrity.” They would have nothing left, including no self-respect.
He sat silent.
And she worried. What if he asked her to keep the breach confidential until he could prove his innocence? Would she? Could she? She shouldn’t. Certainly she shouldn’t, and yet… She swallowed hard. Oh, but she hoped he didn’t ask.
“My words to you. I remember.” He gripped the chair arms. “I meant them then, and they’re just as true now. We can’t compromise.” He swallowed hard. “We have no choice.”
Through her relief, she felt his resignation, grasped what doing the right thing was costing him personally. And she wondered. If in his position, would she have his courage? She hoped she would, but she couldn’t be sure. Maybe no one could be sure until they were in that position.
He hauled himself out of the chair. His knees cracked, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “For the record, I didn’t do it.”
The flicker of doubt flamed. Never before had Seth felt it necessary to defend himself on ethical issues to her, or to remind her that he had established the ethic. Why now?
Her heart told her that he sensed her skepticism and wanted to put it to rest, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, to trust him. But her head refused to let her do it. She tried to take that leap of faith—really tried—but the lessons she had learned against trusting on faith alone had been ingrained until they were as much a part of her as her DNA. She couldn’t do it, especially when she alone wouldn’t suffer the consequences of making the wrong choice. It wasn’t right to jeopardize unsuspecting others who had entrusted her with the responsibility of making those decisions wisely. That responsibility wasn’t a coat she could just take off and stuff in the closet because suddenly wearing it had become uncomfortable. It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t safe.
Hoping for reassurance and not getting it clearly disappointed Seth, but he quickly shielded it behind remote indifference. “No sense in delaying.” He lifted the phone receiver, punched down the secure-line button, and then dialed the Office of Special Investigations.
“Agent 12, please.” Seth looked
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