"Have a seat, Elise." Pierce sits down as he gestures to the open chair beside Rumlow.

"Did you have a restful week off?" He smiles at me. I wonder what kind of response he's expecting. It wasn't supposed to be a "fun" week. I was mourning the loss of a co-worker. But maybe if I act too depressed about it, he'll think I haven't moved on.

Maybe I'm over-thinking things.

"Yes," I reply hesitantly, "I did. Thank you."

"Good, good." Pierce's smile widens as he nods, glancing between Rumlow and I.

His friendliness puts me a little bit at ease.

"You know, I got a call from Vitaly Nikolav the other day. He was worried about you."

Those feelings of comfort and ease immediately vanish.

"He wondered if everything was going alright with you two in your relationship. He thought maybe Brock wasn't treating you well." Pierce flashes us a joking smile, and Rumlow seems to finally snap out of his passive silence as he raises an amused eyebrow and grunts in acknowledgement.

First Michael, now Dr. Nikolav. Why do people assume that we're in some kind of one-sided aggressive relationship, like he's holding me hostage or something?

"With all due respect, sir, I sense that you called me here to discuss more than my relationship with agent Rumlow."

The smile doesn't leave Pierce's face, although it's not a smile of amusement any more, just a smile of polite acknowledgement.

"You're right. I'm not interested in Nikolav's concerns about your relationship. I am, however, interested in your former supervisor. I was surprised to hear that he had spoken to you." He stands up, strolling back to the windows.

"We ran into him by chance at a café on Friday evening." I glance down at my hands.

"And did he ask about Michael?" Pierce's question sounds innocent enough, but I know what he's getting at.

"He did, but-"

"She didn't tell him anything." Rumlow interrupts me, his eyes briefly flickering my way.

Is he here to vouch for my innocence or something?

Pierce laughs, and it surprises me.

"I'm not questioning her trustworthiness, Brock. I trust Elise to keep our classified information a secret." He turns his head to look back at us.

"When he called me to mention that he'd met you, I deduced that he'd probably already asked you about Michael, since he didn't mention the matter to me." Pierce looks out the windows again, clasping his hands behind his back. "I expected him to ask you. Michael knows about Vitaly's classified work, of course. He was one of the few. I'm not surprised that Vitaly would be keeping a careful eye on his well-being."

"What work are you referring to, Mr. Pierce? All of Dr. Nikolav's work during Michael's PhD term was public domain research." I'm genuinely confused now.

"So you don't know." Pierce's smile disappears, his eyebrows arching in surprise, "That's a grave disappointment. I thought you might have been privy to his work. You were one of his best disciples after all."

I'm more lost than ever in this conversation. Dr. Nikolav wouldn't keep things from me if we were working on the same projects. What classified work is he talking about?

I'm aware that Rumlow has been watching me intently thus far, one elbow propped on the arm of his chair, his hand resting under his chin like that statue, the thinker.

When Pierce doesn't elaborate any further, Rumlow speaks.

"Dr. Nikolav works on simulated retrograde amnesia."

That's just about as far from Dr. Nikolav's main research focus as you can get. It sounds highly unlikely.

Pierce walks over to his desk, picks up a folder and returns to his seat, holding the gray file out to me. I take it from his hands, examining the glossy shield emblem emblazoned on the cover, wondering what incriminating evidence lies inside.

The two men are silent as I flip through the papers. I've never seen any of this before. Page after page of studies and notes, uncredited, but written in the same distinct writing style that Dr. Nikolav favours so much. The familiarity is painful, bringing me back to the days I spent copy-editing papers back and forth with my supervisor before sending them to scientific journals. There can be no doubt about it, this is his work.

But even if they're correct, how can I believe their claims that Michael knew about this research?

"Why is this relevant to me?" I look up at Pierce.

He pauses, holding my gaze for a few seconds.

"Well, we had hoped that you would have some knowledge of Dr. Nikolav's work, since you were so close to him. You see, we would have asked Michael, but he met that unfortunate accidental fate. Quite sad." He frowns, and I glance at Rumlow. His lips are drawn in a sober line, his eyes focussed on the folder in my hands.

Is that the truth, Pierce? Or did you have Michael killed because he refused to help you?

Other goal. Stay out of it.

I'm sure that Michael's notes were referring to this project, whatever it is.

Will they have me killed too, now that they've realized I don't have the knowledge they're looking for? Is that why they had me recruited to this research project to begin with? To be a back-up pawn in case Michael didn't co-operate?

"What do you need from me? I… I can try to do whatever it is you needed Michael for." I don't know what I'm committing myself to. It's bad enough that Michael warned me not to get involved, but I don't have a choice. I don't want to meet a similar "accidental" death.

Pierce mulls over my offer for a while.

"She can acquire the files from their lab." Brock nonchalantly makes a suggestion that has my stomach reeling.

Pierce raises an eyebrow, and I can see that he's considering it.

"I couldn't. I can't just walk in. Their labs are behind locked doors—besides, I made it pretty clear to them that I couldn't contact them anymore after working here." My words are filled with a desperation that only serves to make me sound like I'm making excuses. I feel Rumlow's reassuring hand on my shoulder as he leans forward.

"Relax, Elise." He smiles, and I remember that he's trying to help me, "You can do it. Use your charm. Nikolav is worrying about you. Use that to your advantage."

He makes it sound so easy. The reality is that I'll have to fend off questions about Michael if I run into any old colleagues. Can I even do that, so soon after his death?

"I think that would be a good course of action for now, yes." Pierce smiles, "If Elise is up to it, that is. We'll take care of any hardware you might need to infiltrate their computers."

I feel Rumlow's grip on my shoulder tighten in a firm squeeze and I know that I have no choice.