The Boss’s Expectations

The next morning, Dean walked into the office with a quiet confidence. He had completed the mission, and the adrenaline from last night still lingered in his veins. But now, there was no time to bask in the afterglow of his success. He had to keep moving, keep playing his part.

As he stepped into the building, the familiar hum of fluorescent lights and the faint scent of coffee filled the air. The office was just as sterile as it always was—nothing special about it, just a place where he punched in the hours, listening to briefings, attending meetings, and pretending to be a regular agent. But in the back of his mind, he was always aware of the real mission—the one he was working on in the shadows, the one that had brought him here.

His boss, Director Rourke, was already seated in his office, the door slightly ajar. The older man, a no-nonsense type, had his eyes fixed on a stack of files in front of him. Dean had worked with Rourke for years, and the man knew exactly how to read people, especially someone like Dean, who liked to keep his cards close to his chest.

Dean knocked lightly before entering, and Rourke looked up, his sharp gaze scanning Dean with the usual intensity.

"Sit," Rourke ordered, his voice clipped. Dean complied, taking a seat across from him. There was a moment of silence as Rourke assessed him, probably wondering how things were going with his latest assignment.

"You know, I'm impressed," Rourke began, his eyes narrowing slightly as he set aside the file he'd been working on. "You've always had a knack for this kind of work. I can see you're handling your assignment well."

Dean nodded but didn't speak right away. He wasn't in the mood for praise. He didn't need it. What he needed was clarity—what was the next step in this game? How long until his cover would be blown? Or worse, until Thalia figured out who he really was?

"I did what you asked," Dean said finally, his voice steady but filled with an underlying tension.

Rourke tilted his head slightly, studying him. "And how'd it go?"

"Clean," Dean replied. "No traces. No mistakes."

Rourke leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "I'm not worried about the clean part," he said with a dry chuckle. "It's the keeping it clean that's the tricky part. You're walking a fine line, Voight. One wrong move, and this whole thing could come crashing down."

Dean didn't flinch. He had heard it all before. But Rourke wasn't wrong. His entire operation was on a razor's edge. He had to keep everything together, make sure Thalia never suspected a thing.

"I'm aware," Dean said. "I'll stay on course."

Rourke didn't seem entirely convinced, though. His eyes lingered on Dean a moment longer before he spoke again, this time with a more serious tone.

"Thalia's not an easy one to crack," he said. "She's smart, calculating, and she has a sixth sense for anyone who might be trying to play her. You'll need to keep your distance but also find a way to get closer. You need to make her think you're one of her own."

Dean shifted in his chair, the weight of Rourke' words sinking in. He had already started gaining Thalia's trust, but he knew he had to be cautious. Too much, too soon, and it could backfire. He needed to stay under the radar, play his part, and gather as much intel as possible without raising suspicion.

"I'm getting close," Dean said, his voice low but confident. "She's starting to trust me."

Rourke nodded slowly, then gave a small grunt of approval. "Good. But remember this: She'll test you. Over and over again. The moment you slip up, that's it. No second chances with her."

"I know," Dean replied, his mind already running through all the possible scenarios. "I'll be ready."

Rourke leaned forward, fixing Dean with a piercing look. "And you keep your head in the game. This is bigger than just getting close to Thalia. We're not just taking down one gang; we're tearing apart a network. So, don't let your guard down. Not even for a second."

Dean didn't respond immediately. He was used to this kind of pressure. He had been in high-stakes situations before, but this one was different. Thalia was no ordinary criminal. She was a leader, a strategist. And somehow, he had to become part of her world without ever truly being part of it.

After a long pause, Rourke spoke again, his voice softer now. "Keep me posted. I'll be here if you need backup. But remember, you're on your own with this. The less we know, the better. The fewer people who know about your assignment, the longer you'll last."

Dean stood up, his mind already focused on the next step. "Understood."

Reynolds gave him a curt nod. "Good luck, Voight. And remember—don't get too attached. This game doesn't allow for feelings."

Dean didn't respond. He didn't need to. He knew exactly what the stakes were.

As he left the office, the weight of his assignment felt even heavier now. Thalia's gang was dangerous, and the deeper he went, the more tangled things would become. But he had no choice. He was in it now, and there was no turning back.