"I'm headed back to the Truman. You good with her?" Nadine asked.
"Yeah," he mumbled as he sidestepped her in the doorway.
Nadine leaned into the room; fingers gripped around the wood of the doorframe. "Blake is staying with you, ma'am."
She opened the eye Ashley had been working on. The young woman pulled back holding the makeup brush an inch away from her face.
"I expected as much," Elizabeth said before she closed her eye. Ashley stepped up and dabbed the bristles of the brush into the pigment before bringing it up to her eye.
He looked to the door as he took a seat across from her. Nadine had already gone.
"I never asked how dinner went with your brother," he commented as he leaned back into his chair.
She laughed. "Just as you would expect."
He cocked an eyebrow. "So, one step away from a full-fledged war?"
He watched as her hands wrapped around the wooden ends of the high back chair.
She opened her right eye. "He's going to kill me you know?"
He had a queasy feeling that she was about ready to spiral if they didn't talk this through.
"Ashley, could you give us a minute?"
"Of course," she mumbled. She set the small brush and eyeshadow pallet onto the table before she made for the door.
"The information about the courier came from Will?"
She nodded. "Yeah." She looked to her lap. "That man shouldn't have died by our hands," she whispered.
"He sells drugs for ISIS," he reminded.
Her lips twisted to the side. "I just—" She sighed. "I never struggled with these types of calls back when I was with the CIA." She's pulling at her fingers now. One of her anxiety tics. "Maybe a little," she admitted. "But knowing that I—" She looked up from her lap. "—we, the US government play God with somebody's life…" She shakes her head. "These situations that we find ourselves deciding who lives and who dies keep becoming more complicated."
"It's hard. I get it."
"Sometimes I wish it were all in black and white," she muttered. "It would make this job a whole lot easier."
He leaned forward in his chair. "It would also make the world a lot less humane."
She smiled. "That's what Henry says." She pulled the white cloth out from where it was tucked into her shirt. And she stood. "I think he's finding out the hard way why I sometimes think the way I do."
His eyebrows rose. "His other job?" He asked.
She turned to look at herself in the mirror. "The one we're not talking about?"
"Yeah," he mumbled.
Their eyes locked in the mirror, and she nodded.
"We're three minutes out."
Both of their heads turned towards the voice.
"You good to go?" Russell asked. He could see the line of sweat forming on his brow.
"All set," she answered as she moved to the door.
"Wait," he said as he popped up from his chair. He stepped up to her and all while staring into her eyes he knotted the two pieces of fabric that made up her tie. "There."