in one of those rooms, he was poised to kill whoever tried to pass the open doorway.
She paused for a moment to monitor her own physical reactions.
She was agitated, nervous.
Her pulse was pounding.
She was breathing hard and fast.
But was it from adrenaline or anger from last night?
Again she remembered …
“What if I am seeing someone else?” Ryan had said.
“Riley, we never made any agreement to be exclusive.”
He’d told her the woman’s name was Lina.
Riley wondered how old she was.
Probably too young.
Ryan’s women were always too young.
Damn it, stop thinking about him! She was reacting like some stupid rookie.
She had to remind herself of who she was. She was Riley Paige, and she was respected and admired.
She had years of training and fieldwork under her belt.
She’d been to hell and back over and over again. She’d taken lives and she’d saved lives. She was always cool in the face of danger.
So how could she let Ryan get to her like this?
She physically shook herself, trying to push the distractions out of her head.
She crept toward the next room, fired a burst around the doorframe, then stepped directly into the doorway and pulled the trigger again.
At that very moment, her rifle jammed.
“Damn,” Riley grumbled aloud.
By a stroke of luck, the shooter wasn’t in this room either. But she knew that her luck might run out at any second. She put down the M4 and drew her Glock pistol.
Just then, a flash of motion caught her eye. He was there, in that doorway just ahead, his rifle aimed directly at her. Instinctively, Riley hit the floor and rolled, avoiding his gunfire. Then she came up to a kneeling position and fired three times, bracing herself against the recoil with every round. All three bullets hit the shooter, who fell backward to the floor.
“Got him!” she yelled back at Bill. She watched the figure carefully and saw no sign of life. It was over.
Then Riley stood up and removed her VR helmet with its goggles, headphones, and microphone. The fallen shooter disappeared, along with the maze of hallways. She found herself in a room about the size of a basketball court. Bill was standing nearby, and Lucy was getting to her feet. Bill and Lucy were also taking off their helmets. Like Riley, they were wearing lots of other gear, including straps around their wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles that tracked their movements in the simulation.
Now that her companions weren’t simulated puppets, Riley paused for a moment to appreciate their real-life presence. They seemed like an odd pair – one of them mature and solid, the other young and impulsive.
But they were both among her favorite people in the world.
Riley had already worked with Lucy in the field more than once, and she knew that she could count on her. The dark-skinned, dark-eyed young agent always seemed to sparkle from inside, radiating energy and enthusiasm.
By contrast, Bill was Riley’s age, and although his forty years were slowing him a little, he was still a topnotch field agent.
He’s also still pretty good-looking, she reminded herself.
For a moment she wondered – now that things were tanking between her and Ryan, maybe she and Bill might …?
But no, she knew that was a terrible idea. In the past, she and Bill had both made clumsy efforts to start something serious, and the results had always been a disaster. Bill was a great partner and an even greater friend. It would be stupid to spoil all that.
“Good work,” Bill said to Riley. He was grinning broadly.
“Yeah, you saved my life, Agent Paige,” Lucy said, laughing. “I can’t believe I let myself get shot, though. I missed that guy when he was right in front of me!”
“That’s part of what this system is for,” Bill told Lucy, patting her on the back. “Even very experienced agents tend to miss their targets at close range, within ten feet. VR helps you deal with those kinds of problems.”
Lucy said, “Well, there’s nothing like taking a virtual bullet in the shoulder to teach you that lesson.” She rubbed her shoulder, where the equipment had delivered a slight sting to let her know she was hit.
“It’s better than a real one,” Riley said. “Anyway, I wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Thanks!” Lucy said, laughing again. “I’m feeling better already.”
Riley holstered the model pistol and picked up the fake assault rifle. She remembered the sharp recoil that she’d felt firing both weapons. And the nonexistent abandoned building had been detailed and vivid.
Even so, Riley felt strangely empty and unsatisfied.
But that certainly wasn’t the fault of either Bill or Lucy. And she was grateful that they’d taken some time this morning to join her in this exercise.
“Thanks for agreeing to do this with me,” she said. “I guess I needed to blow off some steam.”
“Feel better?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah,” Riley said.
It wasn’t true, but she figured a little lie wouldn’t hurt.
“How about the three of us go get a cup of coffee?” Bill asked.
“Sounds great!” Lucy said.
Riley shook her head.
“Not today, thanks. Some other time. You two go ahead.”
Bill and Lucy left the huge VR room. For a moment, Riley wondered whether maybe she should go with them after all.
No, I’d be lousy company, she thought.
Ryan’s words kept echoing through her mind …
“Riley, Jilly was your decision.”
Ryan really had some nerve, turning his back on poor Jilly.
But Riley wasn’t angry now. Instead, she felt achingly sad.
But why?
Slowly she realized …
None of it’s real.
My whole life, everything’s fake.
Her hopes for becoming a family again with Ryan and the kids had just been an illusion.
Just like this damned simulation.
She fell to her knees and started to sob.
It took a few minutes for Riley to pull herself together. Grateful that no one had spotted her collapse, she got to her feet and headed back to her office. As soon as she stepped inside, her desk phone started ringing.
She knew who was calling.
She was expecting it.
And she knew that the conversation wasn’t going to be easy.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Hello, Riley,” a woman’s voice said when Riley picked up the phone.
It was a sweet voice – quavering and feeble with age, but friendly.
“Hello, Paula,” Riley said. “How are you?”
The caller sighed.
“Well, you know – today’s always hard.”
Riley understood. Paula’s daughter, Tilda, had been killed on this day twenty-five years ago.
“I hope you don’t mind my calling,” Paula said.
“Of