"Have you told him yet?"
The voice on the other end of the phone held both amusement and slight trepidation.
"Not yet," Director Shepard twisted the phone cord in her hand and turned her chair slightly so she could look out of the large windows behind her desk. She was grateful not to be accused of cowardice, because she had been guilty of avoiding this for as long as possible and now she had run out of time. "They're finishing a case, I'll brief them when they've tied it up."
"I will be there in a couple of hours,"
"They'll know by then. We can't move to phase two without backup – and there is a deadline."
"Who do you think he'll be more annoyed with?"
"Me" Shepard said ruefully, "running an operation behind his back – again."
"I'm not sure he'll be pleased to see me either, especially when he finds out I came to you."
"So, it's even then – he's going to kill both of us?"
"When he stops yelling and having private conferences."
"How long until you get here again?"
"Looking for some backup Director?"
"Seems like I'm going to need it."
Because telling him wasn't meant to be the difficult part.