Meva knocked twice on the door to the Special Operations Division chief's office. The heavy solid-wood door didn't budge, and there was no answer from inside.
She knocked again, harder this time, until her knuckles began to ache.
"The chief is in the conference room," a passing colleague murmured, nodding toward the end of the hall. "The entire leadership is discussing Bianca's team."
Meva nodded her thanks and hurried toward the conference room with her deputy.
Through the blinds, which hadn't been drawn, she could clearly see the grim scene inside. The projection screen was cycling through crime-scene photos from the attack on Bianca's team, while the personnel files of the casualties were displayed on a split screen beside it.
The oval conference table was packed with senior officials from the Special Operations Division and MI6. Thick files lay open in front of each of them.
The division chief stood before the projection screen, the red dot of his laser pointer tracing a glaring path across the grisly crime-scene photos. His voice carried faintly through the door: "...Based on the ballistic analysis, the attackers were clearly prepared in advance."
Meva didn't hesitate. She raised a hand and knocked twice on the glass door, then pushed it open under the astonished gazes of those inside.
Dozens of eyes turned toward her at once. Some were startled, some curious, and others indifferent.
The division chief lowered his laser pointer, his brow furrowed. "Team Leader Mei Wa Lake, what urgent matter do you have?"
Meva stood in the doorway and held out an arm to stop her deputy from following. With a look, she silenced him, ushered him back out, then closed the glass door behind her.
The lock clicked softly, sealing off the room from the outside world.
She turned to face