A/N: Hello everyone. Just a small note to express my gratitude my wonderful beta, who unfortunately can no longer continue her cooperation. For future chapters (this included) I'll have to fend for myself, so... yeah, me not being a native speaker will come into play, even if I'll do my best to reduce gramatical errors to a minimum.

There's a tense silence in the house when I step inside, both my partners look at me with a weird gaze upon their eyes.

"Hi there…" I say, the exhaustion in my bones only allows me an half-assed attempt at a smile. "Well, if this is not a warm welcome than I don't know what is…" I comment when I get no replies as I heavily sit down on the opposite corner of the couch where Felix is sprawled.

Sarah is on the armchair, a glass generously filled with what I assume to be bourbon on her hand. "We have a mole," it's the first thing she says.

"We don't know that for sure," I say meeting her stare. "It could be on the other side."

"Yes, because the Russian mafia is notorious for their leaks…" Sarah says sarcastically. "By the way, a heads up about who we were meeting would've been nice."

I disengage my stare from her and look at Felix, who, by the casual way he remains sat on the other side of the couch, is already filled in on the subject.

"Would it have made any difference?" I challenge, but I'm too tired to put true purpose in my voice. "We had a job to do, and we did it. Who we were meeting was irrelevant."

"That's not the problem, Cosima," Felix says. "The issue here is that you took upon yourself to make that decision. You've chosen to leave us out of the loop regarding what was happening. You've put us all in danger by not sharing the information."

"Yes," Sarah joins, leaning forward, "and that makes me wonder what else you're keeping to yourself. What else do you think it's irrelevant for us to know."

I meet both their eyes, neither of them appear to be in the disposition to show me any lenience. And despite their objections being well deserved, there's nothing I would've done any different.

"Daniel has demanded I kept it a secret," I look at Sarah. "Even from you, Sarah."

"I'm missing the part where you need to do all that he asks you to," her tone hasn't soften one bit, if nothing else, it only becomes more aggravated. "Maybe you've forgotten that our work for the Websters is only a cover. It's not your real job, Cosima!"

"I know that!" Even through my exhaustion I fight back. "I also know that the best way to do our job is to not make waves, keep gaining their trust. I do what he asks me to because that's the best way to do our job."

"And what job is that?" Felix asks, his pitch rising. "You've met with Siobhan, has she said anything in that respect?"

I pause, my mind working around considerations that have been hunting me for the last couple of days. No, Siobhan hasn't told me anything about that, she hasn't even mentioned it, and it's very likely that happens because she hasn't heard anything from our client. A theory has been brewing in my head.

"She hasn't," I answer and sit a bit straighter on the couch. "But I don't know if there was any mission to begin with."

"What the hell does that mean?" Sarah asks, and it's no longer anger that drives her, but confusion and curiosity.

"Think about it," I encourage, my mind working on all cylinders. "We've been here for what… three, four months and what orders do we have? Integrate, gain their trust, do your job…"

"Yeah, so?" Felix asks, his confusion remains, but Sarah's eyes are brighter, she's probably reaching the same conclusion I am.

"So? What have we discovered about the Websters? Or, at least Daniel, who's the one who hired us in the first place," I keep going and Sarah is already nodding. "Whatever he's messing with is bad news. Working with the Russian mob, that's at least criminal conspiracy…"

"And we are helping them. An outside observer will think that we are all on the same side," Sarah says, her anger returning but it's no longer aimed at me. "We are being framed!"

I nod. "The question is why and by whom," I add thoughtfully. "S has told me that the person who's hired us for this job is the same who hired us to do the Warsaw job." I decide to reveal. There's already enough secrets between us.

"How long have you known that?" Felix asks. "Did you also think that was irrelevant?"

"S has told me not to tell you," I answer with a meaningful stare his way, but it's in Sarah that I have a more reliable ally.

"I'm sure she had her reasons…" Sarah comments, even if she doesn't sound very convinced.

"She wants to protect us," I say as I shake my head. "But I think it's time we start thinking about protecting her. Whoever this person is, I think Siobhan is their primary target. We're only foot soldiers."

"You think the job in Warsaw was already an attempt to botch her missions?" Sarah asks and then brings the glass to her lips, but finds it already empty and gets up to refill it.

"Maybe," I admit. "Maybe you were not supposed to get out of there. Maybe they sent you in and had the man shot to pin that on you."

"Say you're right," Felix has finally caught up. "It does seem like a lot of work just to put Siobhan out of circulation."

"Well, as S says, reputation is all you have in this line of work, if you lose that…" I venture.

"Yeah, not to mention that while we're here, stuck on this job, we're not out there," she aims the hand with the glass to the window, "taking other jobs, building that reputation. Instead we are ruining it by tangling ourselves with the Russian mob. If we don't end up dead, we end up in federal prison."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Felix says, "but that sounds like the perfect reason to get as far from this place as we can. Definitely not stay around and do everything they tell us to, especially if they're trying to frame us."

"We can't just pack up and leave, Felix," I answer, getting up and going to the shelf where Sarah keeps her bourbon, filling a glass for myself. "If we do that, they - whoever they are - will know we're onto them," I sit back down and take a good portion of the drink. "Besides, if we don't get to the bottom of this, who's to say that our next assignment won't be just another attempt to sabotage us… or the one after that. We'd be constantly looking over our shoulders."

"Yeah, Cosima's right," Sarah agrees with a head nod. "So, you're the brilliant genius," she quips, turning her eyes to me, "how are we going to find out who they are or why they are doing this?"

I shake my head, masking my frustration well, I think. "No clue," I say. "But I know that S has someone already looking into it." I refrain from giving any answer that's too specific. In this matter, Siobhan's almost neurotic obsession with privacy comes in handy, no one suspects the vagueness of my statement. "However, we can make some educated guesses regarding the identity of the person who's doing this. For starters, it has to be someone who already knew Daniel was about to cut a deal with the Russians."

"I don't see how that helps us," Felix expresses his doubts, raising a brow.

"Well, maybe not now, but if we can list some of S's enemies we can try to find out who had deals with the Russians in the past, has access to someone inside the organization to provide that sort of information. That'll narrow the list significantly; there are not many people who're willing to get in bed with them," I venture.

Sarah twists her lips, as if she's not convinced. "That won't be easy to find," she says, "It's not like they advertise their partnerships."

"I agree that's not much," I say, not trying to sound as defeated as I feel, "but it's all we've got so far."

"Perhaps the person who's looking into it for Ms. S can come up with something more," Felix says.

I look at him and sigh deeply. "One can only hope."

The next morning we all return to our routine, but there's a different spirit ruling the house, all of us feel the weight of our conversation the night before. The few conversations we have are lifeless, as if the logic conclusion we've reached the previous evening as drained our energy, even the volume of our voices is low, the glances we exchange furtive. When both my companions leave the house to tend to their obligations they walk with their shoulders lowered.

As for me, I lose count of long minutes wasted looking out the window of the room where I've mounted my office. The laptop open and running in front of me, the logs awaiting my attention, while the space is filled with soft music that does nothing to help me relax or focus on my task. Instead my mind drifts away, trying to find a way out of this quicksand we're all stuck in, with no escape in sight.

Whoever did this, knew what they were doing, who they were dealing with. Usually Siobhan would've seen this coming miles away, would've been much more careful, but she was in a vulnerable position. With her most recent mission botched she was eager to

prove herself and was not as cautious as she would've been under normal circumstances. Even if Sarah's job was a first attempt to sabotage us, it was not a complete failure; it had an instrumental part in making S act more imprudently, it forced her hand in taking a new assignment without taking the necessary precautionary measures, without properly vetting the job. I'm sure that, by now, she's probably regretting it more than anyone else, she probably considers that it was her actions that put us all in danger. Perhaps that's why Siobhan is willing to break her rules and work with not only an outsider, but someone who's part of law enforcement, albeit with considerable reservations.

Eventually, I quit pretending to be making any progress on my work. I turn off the computer, go for my coat and head out the door, hopeful that a walk on the cold air will help me regain some control of where my mind ends up. The sky is deeply blue, the sun shines and melts what little snow is still covering the ground. It's almost noon and almost warm, the edges of spring can be already felt. I walk around aimlessly, pass the pool area and with my head turned to the woods of the estate that starts after some 50 yards of carefully maintained grass.

I'm keenly aware of the cameras spread throughout the area watching me, somewhere in the control room is one of Sarah's men eyeing me with probable disinterest. I look to where the garage has been built, fully complete by the looks of it, and I wonder if the huge crater on the floor was kept and what's its purpose. The garage doesn't seem to be guarded by anyone, but cameras have been installed over the two doors that grant access to it. Even if it appears to be operational, the cars remain outside, parked in the same area where they've been since we've arrived at the estate, which makes me suspect of the real purpose of the building.

Today there aren't as may cars as usual; not only is Delphine's red SUV not there, but also Daniel's BMW is also missing, I notice with some surprise. I suppose he does leave the property often, but I have been so used to having him around that knowing that he's not present makes me somewhat unnerved. I don't trust him at all, and always fear that he's doing something he shouldn't whenever I'm not around to know what he's up to. It's a disturbing idea, to think that I feel, at some level, protective of him.

The sound of footsteps approaching me from behind makes me turn and forces my thoughts back to the present.

"Cosima, we see each other so little that sometimes I wonder if we truly live in the same place," William says in a greeting manner, his smile broad.

My own smile is contained, but I still nod. "It's almost as if we don't walk in the same circles."

"Can't say I disagree with that," Will says and restarts to walk, looking back to see if I join him. I do, setting my pace to match his leisured one.

"These cameras…" he continues after a few steps, expelling a deep sigh. "I swear… sometimes I think it's the way my brother found to satisfy his desire to control everyone and everything around him. Can't even light up without him taking an interest."

"I'm sure he just wants to keep everyone safe," I comment casually.

"From what?!" He raises his voice and lifts his hands. "Nothing ever happens in this place. Do you have any idea how hard it is for someone who's always lived in New York City to adjust to the life in the country?"

I hum, aware that his question is rhetorical, while at the same time, inviting him to keep talking, knowing that he's predisposed to revealing monologues given enough time. He's certainly not the best asset for Delphine, someone who's unable to keep their mouth shut make for very poor informants. Or maybe this is how he found himself in this position. Either way, I'm sure Delphine made due with what she had at her disposal; if not William, then who would be willing to speak with the feds? Not Daniel, of course, and their father seems as unlikely to turn against the empire himself built, even if he knew his older son is on the edge of ruining it to the ground by smearing the family name, associating it with the likes of some of Russia's most notorious criminals. That is, if he has any idea of what Daniel is doing, which I doubt.

Despite his complaints about surveillance, it doesn't stop William from pulling a joint and lighter out of his pocket and light up. "My brother was not always like this, you know," he continues as he expels a cloud of smoke after a long drag, "but since he took over the company, a few years ago, he's changed."

"I thought your father was still running the company," I comment, careful to keep my growing curiosity in check.

"Only in paper," he answers and shakes his head. "Daniel calls the shots and my father simply rubber-stamps it. I suppose it's because the company is doing so well under my dear brother's leadership," at this he pauses and chuckles. "Of course that if my father truly knew what was happening right under his nose he probably wouldn't be so pleased."

For a hot second I debate whether to take the opening or not, but the opportunity is too great to miss, to the point where William might suspect my apparent lack of interest. "And what is that?" I ask. "What doesn't your father know?"

If he notices that he had talked too much, there's no sign of it. He simply raises his shoulders. "The growth of the company can't be explained by the official numbers," he says, and he stares at me, assessing my reaction. Perhaps William's not as clueless as he lets on. "I might not be as business savvy as my brother - or my father, for that matter - but you have to be stupid not to notice it.

"This house is just a start," he carries on, his arms extended as if presenting an evidence. "There's luxury cars that the company absolutely doesn't need, properties bought for a sudden interested in the restoration market. Have you heard the story of how my brother met his beautiful fiancée?"

I nod. "You've told me," I respond, wondering where this is going. "You've introduced them, her family knew yours… something like that."

"Well, yes…" he says and pulls another drag from the weed. "What I meant is how did they got… close," he chuckles dryly. "My brother had recently found a passion for art. Expensive pieces, of course. He invited Delphine to go art shopping or whatever you wanna call it."

And I can envision it. The feds got interested in the Websters' activities, in the money that seemingly comes out of thin air. They have in their ranks someone who's known to the family, who, coincidentally has knowledge in art, a new interest of Daniel Webster. They meeting was no coincidence, Delphine was paraded in front of Daniel, and then it was just a matter of time. Delphine can be very compelling when she wants to, it must have been almost too easy for her to gain access to the family through the member who's probably most careful about who he lets in.

"And did they?" I ask, and William looks at me confused. "Buy anything, that is," I explain further.

"Oh… yeah, sure," he nods. "Got a few ugly paintings and some god-awful sculptures. They're decorating this house."

"What are you getting at, Will?" I stop to ask, even if my reasoning is already turning to money laundering.

"I don't really know," he shakes his head, and I believe him, there's a candor in the way he expresses himself that leads me to trust his words. He certainly doesn't need to be volunteering this information. "All I know is that he's spending more than he's officially making and I know he's not in debt."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I then ask with genuine curiosity, there's even a modest grin dancing on my lips.

He shows me a wide smile. "Delphine said we should talk."

I roll my eyes. "And you couldn't have lead of with that?" I ask, slightly annoyed.

"I wanted to see how well you could hold your own," he answers with a laugh.

I twist my lips, although my irritation is less intense. "And how did I fare?"

"Not bad," William winks at me. "She also said to tell you, and I'm quoting here, she looks after her own. Although I suspect she looks after you with more interest than me," his laughter grows.

"Your communications with them…" I start, ignoring his personal comment.

"Ah, yes… if you could make that go away, it'd be great!" He interrupts me.

I shake my head. "Your brother knows something's up, he won't give up until he finds out what it is."

"Can't you stall?" He becomes more serious when the subject goes to him.

"Not for much longer, not without sounding incompetent," I say, and his expression is suddenly much less amused. "We'll think of something," I add, trying to give him some comfort.

He restarts to walk. "I suppose I have no other option but to trust that."

We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, while he finishes his smoke. The morning is ending and I need to get back to the cottage to join Sarah and Felix for lunch. The work I should've done is still waiting for me, and it's likely that will take me the better part of the afternoon, which, judging by the dark clouds approaching, should be rainy.

"I need to talk with her," I say, cutting through the silence.

"She should come later today, we're having a family dinner," William says to me quietly, his face contorting with the prospect. "I'll let her know."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," I nod.

"You should find another way to pass messages between you two," he says, but there's a hint of humor in his subtle smile. "I do not enjoy being your errand boy."

I smile. "We'll take that into consideration."