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Since when?

I had never demanded that an authorized order prove itself to me before I carried it out. That was the entire point of a compartmented command structure. I was trusted with the action. Others were trusted with the intelligence behind it.

If every operative refused to move until he personally verified every layer of a mission, the Veil would cease to function.

I knew that. I had defended that logic.

Lived by it.

Killed by it.

Yet now I stood within reach of Talia Mercer with a confirmed termination order and had decided that the order was not enough.

That was not procedure.

That was judgment.

Mine.

Somewhere between reading her file and finding her here, I had placed my own judgment between myself and the Veil.

I did not know what disturbed me more. The possibility that the Veil was wrong, or the possibility that I no longer trusted it enough to obey.

I told myself I needed evidence.

For now, that explanation would have to be enough.

“What happens now?” she asked again.

I picked up her belongings and returned them to the bag.

Talia watched my hands. “You’re giving that back?”

“Yes.”

Suspicion immediately replaced surprise. “Why?”

I could have told her the truth.

That I had expected to find something in that bag that made the order easier to understand.

That part of me had wanted to.

I did not.

“Because we are leaving.”

Her eyebrows rose. “We?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

I held the bag out to her. She took it, her fingers brushing mine before she jerked her hand back as if burned. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the strap.

“Your decision-making under pressure is poor,” I stated, watching the way her shoulders stiffened.

“Excuse me?” The words were sharp, defensive.