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Ladybug, Ladybug — why did that phrase pop out when it did? Was it specifically mission-related? While I hoped for a key that turned the lock to what my conscious mind missed, my gut said no, this was not something I had overlooked in the data files. This knowing had to do with the strange vibrations I picked up as I walked into Headquarters. Right now, I felt nothing in particular.
    This absence of vibration reminded me of the times when I went away for a number of days, on assignment or staying at Striker’s apartment; when I returned to my house, I could smell what others could smell. Of course, within the hour, I acclimated to the scents again, and they were no longer noticeable. I wondered if that were the case here. Perhaps Iniquus always buzzed from all of the people and activity. Maybe it always felt this way, and I had forgotten.
    I turned the corner and started up another hallway. No, that couldn’t be right. I would recognize this if I had experienced it from my first days here. This was something new and very odd.
    And what was more peculiar was that when Gater touched me, the sixth-sense impression magnified. That impression was separate from – no not separate – different from what I experienced from the knowing. “Ladybug, Ladybug.” My house was on fire. I needed to find the smoke so I could put out the flame and keep my family safe.
    I moved through the halls with my arms extended to the sides, trying to act as a human antenna and sense the vibrations. I found myself outside the door to Command’s wing, where the air felt vivid. It was the same sensation as when I stood outdoors and a flash of lightning raced with the thunder. I could almost smell the ozone where air molecules ripped themselves apart and reconfigured.
    The door opened. Leanne paused, hand on the knob, with a slight frown. “Did you forget something, Mrs. Sobado?”
    “Hi.” I tried to cover up my embarrassment at being found standing there, sniffing the air. “It’s lunch time.” I forced a smile. “Can I invite you for Chinese? I know a cute little restaurant not far away.” And maybe you have a clue as to what’s going on with Iniquus .
     
    Leanne forked up the last bite of her vegetable lo mein. It hung midway to her mouth. “You look different,” she announced.
    I took a sip of green tea.
    “I’ve spent all of lunch trying to figure out how, though.” She put the food into her mouth, but her gaze didn’t waver from mine. She wiped her lips on her paper napkin. “Something about your eyes. You’re harder now, maybe. Shadowy.” She held up a hand. “Not that that’s a critique. It’s not a bad thing. It’s. . .” Her voice tapered off. “An observation,” she concluded, then offered up a half-smile. “You’re okay now?”
    “I’m getting there.”
    “Someday, we’re going to get drunk, and you’ll to tell me the whole story. I might even write it down and make a million dollars as a bestselling author.”
    She picked up her fortune cookie and pried open the plastic wrapper with her fork tine. Snapping the cookie open, she looked down at her paper. “‘ Wherever you go, go with all your heart.’ Where do they come up with this drivel?”
    “Confucius.” I reached for the other cookie. “So, where is your heart leading you?”
    Leanne leaned forward conspiratorially, “Toward Dawson Hughs.” She winked.
    I laughed. “I don’t think that was exactly what Confucius meant, but okay. Tell me about Dawson.”
    “Actually, he’s in China right now. I want to go to China someday.” She popped a piece of broken cookie into her mouth. “And eat fresh fortune cookies instead of these cardboard things.”
    “It’ll be hard to find fortune cookies in China,” I said, breaking mine open.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Fortune cookies are Japanese-American.” I looked down at my slip of paper.
    Virtue is not left to stand alone. He who practices it will have neighbors.
    I had to read it twice. It