— MORE COFFEE, BREANNE, more coffee!
Gregory said to his secretary, while shuffling through the paperwork on his desk.
The black agent, who had just turned 50 and had an unshaven beard, with his hyperactive manner, ended up giving off a lot of confidence in the judgmental eyes of a stranger due to his fame. The desk always immersed in piles of documents and coffee stains was not the most appropriate impression that one of the most perceptive agents in the FBI's criminal investigation division should make, but the reality was that, even with all his indifference to the organization, he still managed to go far in each case he took on since being admitted to the Bureau.
Breanne was the secretary. The slender and friendly black woman had been there for at least fifteen years before he arrived at the bureau. Having spent her career alongside one of the best FBI agents, Nathan Cartwraith, after seeing him die, she was assigned to assist the newcomer Gregory Evans, who had been nominated by President Vaine himself. At first, she thought it was an insult to be forced to work for a lower-ranking agent. She didn't like Greg's fame, but after a few years of work, she had adopted him as if he were a brother.
Greg won her over with his authenticity, a characteristic that for an agent was actually much more of a defect. She herself realized the harm that this detail could cause to her career, which motivated her to always repeat his famous catchphrase:
"Everyone is guilty until the evidence proves otherwise..."
This was one of the late agent Cartwraith's favorite sayings, which he would repeat to her from time to time in the past, having learned it from the best detective he had ever worked with.
Breanne, however, was immensely curious about some facts about his life. Although he was a sincere person, Greg insisted on remaining ignorant about some things about himself. She would always ask him about his family, why he lived in isolation, why she never saw him live anything other than work. He left his questions hanging in the air, but sometimes he couldn't help but show a certain sadness in his eyes. When it came to family matters, he would often avoid the subject by asking for a coffee, his main consumption since he had joined the Bureau.
But this time, however, it was different. Coffee was something essential to keep him awake after so long without rest:
— Don't you think it's time to stop? You've been up all night here, Greg, you need to get some sleep.
— People are dying, Breanne. If the devil doesn't rest, those who work for God need to work twice as hard.
— Rest in your mind will make you work better later, that's what...
— That's what I was going to say?
— I know you don't like your own advice very much, but...
— But I'm the best, you can say it...
She understood the irony of the moment...
— Everyone has their own story, don't take it personally.
— I won't rest until I can organize all this, Breanne... — he said, focused on his work. — Or until you look like a panda... — she replied, mocking his dark circles.
Breanne stopped next to him, very close to him, leaning on his shoulder and said:
— Greg, you work to live, not live to work.
— I know, Breanne, I know... but I'll have plenty of time to rest after I die.
— Look here, — and she put the cup on his desk. — How long are you going to stay immersed in this pile of work and let your life freeze like this? You need to live, Greg, let go of those things back there... Vietnam is over, Alissa forgive me, but if I were twenty years younger, I wouldn't forgive you! — and she left laughing, back to her desk.
— I think you better tidy up this desk, partner, — said one of his companions, Martin, approaching him. — The Inspector General is coming here.
— Shit... the excess workload isn't enough, now we'll have to be extra vigilant because of those damn terrorists...
IT HAD BEEN YEARS SINCE THE NEW YORK BUREAU HAD NOT BEEN THIS RUSHED. And it was no wonder, the previous morning the marathon attack had happened, while they were still trying to confirm whether the van case was really terrorism.
Gregory Evans was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he hadn't slept well since he had started the investigation into the van, and it had been three days since. No one had been able to get any solid information about the case, they only started to believe it was terrorism when the marathon attack happened. This lack of information was making him desperate.
With the imminent arrival of the Director, he rushed to organize his desk, make it presentable, but there was no time, someone passed by in the hallway and announced:
— MEETING IN THE AUDITORIUM!
Everyone was heading there. Apparently the Director, Floyd Kenagan, had already arrived. Greg and Martin followed the flow and headed to the meeting.