"I think we should take a break." Natasha texted Schiller on her phone. "We've completed far too many tasks that weren't included in the salary Batman promised us. We've practically helped him deduce the killer already. Don't you think we need some administrative leave?"
"Not interested," Schiller replied.
"What are you doing?"
"Browsing online."
"Even knowing there might be an Electronic Life pulling strings behind the scenes? It might be watching you through your camera right now."
"Doesn't matter. I'm quite certain this universe doesn't have iris recognition technology. Batman didn't invent it. So what if it sees me?"
Natasha typed rapidly on her phone. "It'll know what you look like. It might even publish a full-face photo of you."
"You know FBI agents' identities are public, right? I'm not a spy. I'm a cop."
"You're unbelievably boring." Natasha sighed as she typed. "This meeting is unbelievably boring too. They only invited me because I'm supposedly the president's mistress. They're probably hoping I'll convey their diligent work ethic to the president."
"You could pretend to sleep." Schiller's reply was as flat as ever. Natasha could practically hear his tone through the screen.
"Forget it, I need something to wake me up." Natasha sat at the table, tapping away at her phone. "The coffee at headquarters is atrocious. I suspect they condensed the essence of Washington's sewers directly into the coffee machine."
"I'm looking through the FBI's internal files."
The moment Natasha saw that, she sat up straight, thinking he had found a clue to the mastermind. Then Schiller sent another message: "There were 11,253 reports of groundwater pollution related to Washington last year. That really is enough to concentrate."
Natasha quietly pushed her full cup of coffee a little farther away.
She looked up. The head of the CIA was