"Hello, me dear."
Nancy turned quickly, almost falling off the piano bench as her leg caught ungracefully on the edge. A maelstrom of emotions whirled within her. Here was the woman she had been thinking about, dreaming about for months, standing in her living room as if no time had passed at all, as if she hadn't just disappeared without even a proper goodbye. Torn between irritation and elation, she opted for something innocuous.
"How did you get in?"
Zoe smiled. "Rather easily, actually. You don't have an alarm system, I checked for wires and the like. All I had to do was quietly work at the obviously-loose kitchen window, the one over the sink. You should really get that fixed, by the way…"
She trailed off, confused. Zoe had thought that Nancy might be a little miffed by her teensy bit of B and E, but old habits die hard. What she hadn't expected was a…smirk?
"Hands up, now! Who are you?"
"Son of a bitch…"
The shout from behind her would have made her jump a mile, had it not been for years of ingrained reflexes, helped along by the unmistakable cocking of a pistol, which cooled her enthusiasm for sudden movements. She slowly raised her empty hands, mentally kicking herself for her mistake. Zoe had noticed a marked tendency for slip-ups when it came to matters involving a certain cute redhead, but somehow missing a home security system and getting taken by surprise by a local cop was just embarrassing.
Nancy, meanwhile, thought it might be time to speak up. Valiantly keeping her snickering under control, she said, "Deputy, it's all right. This is…a friend of mine."
Deputy Thompson blushed and lowered his gun. The young sheriff's deputy had long nurtured a crush for the neighborhood amateur sleuth, which she had in turn studiously ignored. Looking sheepish and feeling wrong-footed, he returned the weapon to his holster while hastily backing out of the room.
"Sorry, it's just—well, the alarm, the alarm went off, and, well, I've not seen you around before, Miss, and—I guess I'll just be going. Sorry…"
The moment she heard the front door close, Nancy let loose the laughter she had been trying so desperately to contain. Zoe's face remained impassive, but Nancy noticed the slight flush that colored her cheeks.
"You know, I normally don't miss things like that," she said, managing to sound only a little sulky.
"Well, I doubt you were looking for what we've got. Our system is completely wireless, and runs of a satellite internet connection. It has the same failsafes as any wired system and detects any digital 'cutting of wires' with no real wires handy for cutting. I came up with it, but my friend George designed and installed it. She's a real tech geek."
"My, aren't you full of surprises. Nice idea. It's not often a home security system fools someone in my line of work."
"And what line is that, exactly?" Nancy asked, an edge to her voice. This was a bit of a sore spot. She knew Zoe was in intelligence, but nothing specific—that conversation had gone the same way of any proper goodbye. She wasn't sure which one upset her more. She hated not knowing.
"Yeah, I guess it's time we had a talk."
Five minutes later found Nancy and Zoe in the kitchen. Nancy figured this was going to be a long conversation, and she wanted to be comfortable. More for something to do rather than because she wanted any, she set about the familiar and grounding ritual of making tea. After turning on the gas and striking a match, she took advantage of the position of the sink directly opposite the small oak table to school her features.
As she filled the kettle, Nancy began, "I suppose we—"
"Wait."
Zoe took a small device from her pocket and plugged it into her mobile's USB port. A small beep was heard and a green light flashed as she set both items on the table.
"Now we won't be overheard. Ask away."
"Right, I suppose we should start with the obvious. Who exactly do you work for?"
"I'm the CIA section head for the UK, based in London. I handle all US intelligence interests concerning Britain, which pretty much means facilitating cooperation between us and MI6."
"Wow. I hadn't realized you were so high up. Isn't it unusual for someone in your position to do fieldwork?"
"Yes, but the Colony thing was huge, the biggest threat the UK has faced in a decade, so I wanted to be out there. And also…I wanted a chance to meet Kate Drew's daughter."
"You—you knew my mother?" There was a slight hitch in Nancy's voice.
"No," Zoe said, sympathetically. "She was before my time. But I had heard about her, pretty much everybody in the intelligence community has, and I wondered if her daughter had inherited her talents. Of course, given that you saved both our behinds from a particularly icky death via trash compactor—thanks, by the way—I need hardly say you measured up."
"You're quite welcome, uh…" Nancy was again at a loss. She felt her cheeks burning, ridiculously happy to have earned the older woman's praise. And that cheeky grin Zoe had given as she talked so cavalierly about their almost-fatal incident, while it should have annoyed her, instead did things she was determined not to think about. She was finally getting answers, and now was most definitely not the time to get off-track.
Once again, she took refuge in the bustle of making tea, hiding her flushed countenance as she rummaged through a cupboard for a battered old tin filled with loose Earl Grey. Clearing her throat, she continued.
"And Revenant, what's happening there?"
"Ah, well, that's the thing. We had a great deal of success at the beginning, shutting down Colony because of you, mopping up their people—or I should say the ignorant people they used—closest to the plot. But after that, the trail went dead. They've disappeared again, just as thoroughly as they did two decades ago.
"It's been three months now, and every day that passes gives them even more of a head-start. Given the circumstances, we were hoping—"
"Wait," Nancy interrupted, throat suddenly dry, "that's the reason you're here, to recruit me!?"
Zoe spoke deliberately.
"It is my official reason for being here. The director thinks, and I agree, that you would be an invaluable asset." Here, Zoe held up her hand to stop the angry words she could see forming on Nancy's (rose-petal pink) lips.
"However, it is an unfortunate truth that in this business the professional often becomes entangled with the personal. I wanted to come before this, but I couldn't get away. I hate showing up out of the blue, dropping this on you, especially when I had hoped…"
She faltered, unaccountably shy. Nancy eased forward, her breath tight in her chest. Nervously, she licked her lips.
"Hoped what?"
"Uh…the kettle's boiling over."
