Gabe was at Lian's, pouring over recon data from the Germany site. Satellite photos, local maps, regional maps, road maps, topographical maps—Gabe was sick of maps.
Lian looked like she was sick of maps, too. She had her hair pulled up into a rather sloppy bun that she had stabbed with a pencil to keep it in place and was playing with the loose strands as she gazed down at the photo in front of her with a bored expression she obviously wasn't making any effort to conceal. She was laying on her stomach on the floor of the living room a few feet away from him, swinging her bare feet in the air. The effect made her look like a teenager. Then Gabe realized that she had been only 17 when they had met. Damn, I'm getting old.
The bored expression gave way to an irritated scowl when Lian looked up and saw Gabe studying her. "What?" she asked, her tone none too gentle.
"Nothing."
At that, Lian rolled her eyes and sighed and then returned her attention to her work. The scowl still hadn't left her face.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked.
"Yes, there's something wrong!" she exploded, sitting up to face him. "I've been telling you that there's something wrong for the past two weeks, and now you suddenly want to hear about it."
Gabe looked up at her with surprise. Lian never raised her voice, even in argument. And arguments seemed to be the norm for their social interaction these days. "Look, Lian, we've been through this a thousand times…"
"No," she cut him off, "You've been through this a thousand times. I haven't been able to talk without you dismissing me as paranoid." Lian was glaring at him now. Suddenly Gabe realized that he'd never seen her angry before.
Tired and worn out Gabe was quick to respond to anger with anger. "So talk," he spat, glaring back at her.
"You know what I'm going to say!"
"That hasn't stopped you from saying it before!"
Lian abandoned shouting for a low, icy tone. Her eyes were lethal. "If you listened to me the first time, I wouldn't have to repeat myself," she said, locking eyes with him.
Gabe decided he liked the shouting better. He could still fight when she was shouting. Now her eyes pierced his like lances and made him freeze. It took all his strength not to look away. He stared back at her, trying to match her intensity, but knew that he would never be able to master a look like that in his lifetime.
Suddenly, her gaze faltered, only slightly, and her spell was broken, leaving Gabe even angrier than he was before.
"If you've got a problem with this mission, then stay here. I don't need your help. Theresa and I can take care of this by ourselves."
"Fine."
"Fine!" he shouted back and stormed out of the apartment, too angry to feel guilty, or even notice, that she had started crying.
Lian stared at the door for a long time after Gabe slammed it shut behind him. The tears had left her, but the overwhelming sorrow hadn't. She knew better than to fly off the handle like that. And she just lost the best friend she had ever had.
She wondered what hurt her more: that it was her fault, or that he didn't seem to care.
Lian tried to will her eyes away from the door, but that will had been broken during their argument. She wasn't angry anymore. If she could've felt her legs, she would've ran after Gabe, begging him to forgive her. But her limbs had turned to ice.
What did it matter that the Germany lead was probably a trap? It was Gabe's job to hunt down Aramov and stop her from releasing Syphon Filter, and it was Lian's job to help him. She realized, with the clarity of hindsight, that Gabe had to see this lead through, whether he thought it was a trap or not. It was all they had. And she would follow him to the ends of the earth, whether he felt that he needed her help or not.
Lian tried to look away again and this time succeeded. Ignoring the mess on her living room floor, she went to her bedroom and set her alarm for 0400.