Chapter Forty-Nine

Latin Lesson

Jessica was walking briskly through the crowd, and Nora followed after her, making no attempt to hide her intention. Without looking over her shoulder, Jessica turned down an alley and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, back to Nora. Nora walked casually toward her, keeping her posture open and hopefully non-threatening. "Jessica."

The woman responded by pressing a gun into Nora's ribs, and ice flooded through her veins, mouth going very dry as she held her hands up in front of her. "Who do you work for?" Jessica demanded, voice trembling. "Do you work with Kent?"

Nora stared at the gun, resisting the urge to flee, knowing that would just end badly for her. "No, no," she said quickly, "I'm with the FBI." Jessica's brow furrowed, her grip on the gun loosening just a hair. "I was sent in to find out if you murdered Joseph Hayes."

"I didn't murder Joseph," she protested.

"Then who did?"

She held Nora's eyes evenly for a moment before finally lowering the gun. "That's what I want to find out."

Nora nodded slowly, hands shaking slightly as the adrenaline ran its course. No matter how many times she's had a gun pointed at her, it never got any easier, she decided. "Okay, we can help you, but you have to come in and tell us what you know."

Jessica considered it for a moment. "Okay," she decided, nodding slowly and stowing the gun back in her handbag.

Nora sent Peter a text detailing their new development, and the three of them met at the Bureau after work, setting up in the conference room to talk. "Your handgun was registered to Joseph Hayes," Peter noted. "You wanna explain that?"

She shrugged. "Joseph and I were close."

"You were seeing each other?" he guessed.

"Yes, but we couldn't tell anyone."

Peter changed gears. "What do you know about the project he was working on?"

"The microprocessor? He said he was close to a functioning prototype."

Peter's brow furrowed. "Kent claimed the prototype was already working."

"He lied."

Nora shot a glance at Peter, trying to fill in the gaps in the story in her mind. There was something they were missing, and Peter seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Let's focus on you for a second," he decided. "Why did you break into Hayes' email account?" Jessica swallowed, casting her glance down. "Rummage through his desktop?"

"The day before he was murdered, Joseph was acting different. He said someone was following him. He said not to tell anyone anything about what I knew, then he gave me the gun."

"And you started playing detective?" he asked pointedly, and Nora couldn't help but get the feeling Peter was making a subtle comment about her as much as Jessica.

Jessica fixed him with a hard look. "Kent murdered someone I care about very much, and I would do anything to make sure he pays." Nora stared at her lap, but saw Peter glance her direction out of the corner of her eye, and she pointedly refused to look at him. She and Jessica had a lot in common. "Look," she continued, oblivious to the silent conversation they were unintentionally holding across from her, "he's been taking trips, okay? By himself, under the guise of business. Eastern Europe, China… no one knows why."

"You were trying to find out?"

"I was trying to get into Kent's office," she admitted. "I've been seeing garbage bins coming out of there. He's been destroying documents, shredding them, and then putting them in burn bags."

Nora leaned forward, studying Jessica intently. "What would it take to get in there?" she asked, speaking up for the first time. If she could manage that, she might be able to find something they could use.

Jessica told them all she knew about Kent's office and they sent her on her way while they tried to come up with a plan. "Alright, let's start with the good news," Peter decided once they reconvened in Peter's office with their ideas. "Tech lab has a remote scanner that they can attach to the head of Kent's shredder.

She grinned, nodding appreciatively. "Makes a copy before it shreds anything, nice." Peter smiled, proud of himself, before taking a sip out of his ugly FBI mug. His nose wrinkled in distaste, and he pushed the cup away. "Something wrong with your coffee?"

"No, it's fine," he said quickly.

She laughed under her breath. "You've been spoiled.

"It's fine," he huffed. "Alright, the bad news is getting the scanner in place." He pointed to the blueprints of the building that were spread out on the table in front of them. "Kent's office is tough. Not even building security has clearance. The only people allowed inside are Kent and his assistant. Which is also the good news because at lunch time, no one will be on the entire floor."

He pulled over some pictures before continuing. "These are the key cards that give them access to the top floor of the building." She scooped one up to study it. "We can't duplicate them. Kent also has a voice-activated security system that unlocks the door to his office." That certainly made things difficult. "It opens and responds to his voice only."

It was tough, but there were ways to work around such roadblocks. "Well, do we know what the password is?"

He passed over a file. "Thanks to your friend Jessica, we do." He lifted his coffee once more, ready to take a drink, but thought better of it.

"'Faber est suae quisque fortunae,'" she read.

"Every man is the artisan of his own fortune," they translated in tandem.

"Now, I have Jones looking through on-air interviews with Kent," Peter explained, "seeing if he can string together some audio clip."

Nora rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well I doubt he speaks a dead language when he does press." She thought for a moment. "Can we get him to say it into a recorder?"

Peter's face lit up. "Oh, I've got an idea." He pulled something out of his desk and plopped it down in front of her.

It was the card he'd received with his fancy dinner. "Your dinner with Kent," she mused. "Alright, I like it."


Peter followed the waitress to Kent's table. There was a lot riding on the dinner, and Peter did his best not to get into his own head. Nora had talked his ear off about subtle mental manipulations that she thought would help him lead the conversation to getting that specific phrase to pop up, despite his protests that he knew what he was doing, and a mishmash of her advice swirled around his mind.

As they drew near, he pressed the button on the recording pen and stowed it in his jacket pocket. Kent stood when he spotted Peter. "Mr. Kent, good to see you."

They shook hands. "I told you to call me Wesley," Kent reminded him.

"Yes, you did." They took their seats.

"Drink?" Kent offered, gesturing broadly. Peter hissed out a sigh; drinking during undercover jobs was sort of a gray area, but Peter preferred to be on top of his game at all times. "Oh, Peter, I insist you treat yourself. You're not on the job now, are you?"

He really had no genuine reason to refuse. "Scotch and soda," he told the waiter.

"There we go," Kent laughed.

"I appreciate the invite."

"Well, it's the least I could do," Kent dismissed. "Believe me, I wish I could do more."

"Oh, I'm fine, really."

Kent stared at him intently for a moment. "How would you like to come work for me?" Peter froze. "A member of my finance committee is stepping down in a couple of months. It's a very lucrative position."

Peter fumbled for something to say in response. "I'm in the middle of auditing your company," he reminded Kent, "and you're offering me work?"

"Well, I've seen your credentials. Peter Lassen looks damn good on paper, but he'd look even better in my offices."

Peter chuckled. It wasn't at all what he'd been expecting, and it threw him off a little. "I've already got a job."

"No… no, working for Novice is more than a job," he said, very serious. "It's an achievement. It's a new beginning."

Peter nodded slowly, regaining himself. "Hence the name of your corporation," he mused, trying to steer the conversation toward Latin.

Kent sat back in his chair, impressed. "You know your Latin."

"I understand the etymology of novice," he allowed. "It's synonymous with the newly arrived, unique and original." Kent nodded. "I also know a few other words. Da mihi facta dabo tibi ius."

"'Give me the facts and I will give you the law,'" Kent translated. Peter nodded. Kent leaned in, eyes serious once more. "You want the facts?"

"I want incentive, details."

"Okay." Kent dropped his voice down low. "What I'm working on right now is gonna set up the company and everyone in if for life."

"Look, I'm a self-made guy..."

"So am I. And I believe that every man makes his own fortune with a good decision." There is is…

Peter grinned. "The politician, Caecus, he had a saying for that, didn't he?"

"Faber est suae quisque fortunae."

Easy as pie. "Every man is an artisan to his own fortune."

"Amen," Kent mused, taking a sip of his drink.

Peter lifted his scotch and soda, pleased with himself, and drank to his own good fortune.


"He offered you a job?" Nora marveled when Peter finished recapping his dinner as they walked to work the next morning.

He ignored her. "I got what we needed," he said pointedly, handing her the recording pen.

She stowed it in her purse. "Yeah, but Peter, think about all the tiny cups you could own."

"Kent's meeting his R&D team today at one. Think you can snatch one of those key cards?"

"Yeah, won't be a problem," she assured him easily.

"How's Jessica holding up?"

She shrugged lightly. "She put her game face on.

"Time for you to do the same."

They broke off and made their way into the Novice office separate from each other, lest they rouse suspicion. Nora lingered by the elevators, waiting for Kent and Ellen. Sure enough, they came through the hallway, deep in a conversation about work. Nora had already noted that Ellen kept her key card clipped on her waist band. Luck was on her side as it was clipped on the side opposite of Kent, making it entirely too easy for Nora to swiftly lift as she walked by.

With no one any the wiser, she tucked the card in her blazer and pressed the elevator call button. The doors slid open a moment later, and she stepped in. No one followed, and she slid the card. The card reader chirped, and she was able to select floor forty-four.

As expected, the top floor was deserted as she made her way through with purpose, not even pausing while she flicked Ellen's card through the open door of her office. Better she found it carelessly dropped on the floor than not at all.

Nora played the recording of Kent's password at the door to his office where an expensive terminal stood. There were no buttons or seemingly other ways to get inside the office, which was what she'd expected to see. The recording worked, unlocking the door for her.

It took only a moment to spot the shredder, a large, hulking model against the wall. She fed a paper through to see where the scanner should go, and placed it quickly. Her fingers itched to toss the office, but that wasn't part of the plan, and it was an unnecessary risk. Instead, with her job completed, she made her way out the way she'd come.

Later, after work, she met up with Jessica at the Bureau once more and told her what had happened. The women leaned against the desks in the bullpen, few agents milling around them. "How'd you even get in there?" Jessica wondered, bemused. To some, Kent's security measures must have made the office seem like an impregnable fortress. But with Nora's skill and the FBI's resources, they were more of a slight inconvenience.

Pleased with herself, Nora held up the recording pen and played it for Jessica. "There are some pretty fun toys around her," she mused, dropping the pen into her desk drawer and sliding it shut.

"So, have they found anything yet?"

"Well, agents are going through the latest scans now." She smiled reassuringly. "We're gonna find something."

Jessica sighed. "You know, even if you arrest him, it won't change what happened."

A knot formed in Nora's stomach. "I understand."

"I don't think you do." If you only knew… But, it wasn't the time to compare tragedies. Instead, Nora listened patiently. "Do you know how Joseph died? How he was poisoned?" Jessica paused, swallowing hard. "This chemical, it drops the heart rate, spikes the blood pressure. You can't see. And a few minutes later, you can't feel. You're dead."

It was truly awful. "You can't think about that," Nora told her softly, speaking from experience.

"It's all I can think about. If someone took away the person you loved, wouldn't you want them to know how it feels?"

Nora couldn't answer. She was acutely, painfully aware exactly what Jessica was going thought, how she felt; Nora felt the exact same way. Yet, she couldn't help herself from parroting the advice and well-intentioned bullshit everyone around her had spouted off following Kyle's death.

Peter caught her eye from the top of the stairs and gestured her up. "I'll be right back," she said, voice thick, grateful that she was spared from answering. She rubbed Jessica's shoulder gently and made her way upstairs.

Peter handed her a file as she stepped into the conference room. "We just pulled this from the shredder in Kent's office," he epxlained.

She flipped it open. "This is Hayes' prototype," she realized.

"Yeah. And it never worked. Kent tried to make it look like espionage and he had the damn thing the whole time." Nora shook her head slowly. "This is the cover-up. Nora, I think I know why Hayes was killed."