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out—together.
    A whole new start, she thought. Out with the old, in with the new.
    Rejection
    OLIVER SAT IN ONE OF THE FEW chairs in his brownstone in Brooklyn, staring at the telephone on the table next to him. A half-empty bottle of scotch reflected the glow from the desk lamp that afforded the only light in the room. He took a swig from his glass and braced himself as the warm liquid burned down his throat.
    It’s just a phone call, he told himself. You’ve taken phone calls from the President of the United States in your day. Just get it over with.
    He placed the tumbler down, picked up the receiver, and quickly punched in Gaia and Tom’s number. Hehad no idea why he was overcome with such trepidation. Yes, there was a lot of bad history between him and his brother and niece, but that had all changed. They had fought side by side in Russia. They had escaped together. And even if he and Tom had been at each other’s throats half the time, going through those experiences together had brought them closer. He could feel it. Tom must have been feeling it, too.
    The phone rang a few times and he finally heard someone pick up at the other end. Oliver started to smile.
    â€œTom Moore,” his brother said stiffly.
    â€œHello, Tom. How are you settling in?”
    Silence. Oliver’s heart thumped almost painfully.
    â€œTom?”
    â€œI don’t want you calling here again,” his brother said, his tone impossibly cold.
    â€œTom, please. I just thought you and Gaia and I could get together,” Oliver said, sitting forward in his seat. “To talk things over . . . maybe have a meal—”
    â€œUntil I know with absolute certainty that you had nothing to do with my kidnapping and with the threats to Gaia’s life, I have nothing to say to you. And I don’t want you contacting her,” Tom said. “Do you understand?”
    Oliver struggled for words—a unique experience for him. Usually he could be smooth under anycircumstance, could sweet-talk anyone and everyone he came into contact with. It was all part of his CIA training. But this . . . this flat-out rejection from his only brother—his twin—was too much, even for him.
    â€œTom, I—”
    â€œStay away from my daughter, Oliver. Don’t test me on this.”
    And with that, the line went dead. Oliver held the receiver against his face, unable to move. He hadn’t expected Tom to jump up and down and do cartwheels over the phone call, but this completely disrespectful treatment was uncalled for. After everything he’d done to bring Tom home safely, to help his brother and his daughter, he certainly didn’t deserve this.
    With his hand shaking, Oliver slowly lowered the receiver onto the cradle. He took a steadying breath and lifted his drink again, downing the rest of it in one quick gulp.
    It’s going to be okay, he told himself, bracing his forearm with his other hand to stop the shaking. To stop the hot blood coursing through his veins from pushing him toward the edge—toward anger. He’ll come around eventually.
    But his thoughts were cold comfort to him, alone in his dark, unfurnished home. What did he have to do to get back in Tom’s good graces? How many times would he have to prove himself?
    By the Rules
    AS THE SUN BEGAN TO SET OVER THE city, and its red-gold light reflected off the mirrored façade of the more modern buildings, Gaia walked toward the front desk at Wallace and Wenk, the law offices that doubled as a front for the CIA’s underground New York headquarters. Per Jake’s advice, she was wearing the most responsible outfit she could piece together—her cleanest jeans topped by a light blue button-down shirt belonging to Jake that he hadn’t worn since the ninth grade. Her hair was back in a bun, and she tried to walk with her chin up and her eyes straight ahead. The small, mousy woman behind the counter