A shiver rushed over her skin and her teeth chattered in time to the branches of the surrounding trees rustling in the wind. The fact she was walking calmly rather than crouching in fear at the noise was a testament to how far she’d come in the last fifteen years. Although it was humbling to realize that more than half of her life had been overshadowed by one traumatic event.

But here she was, dealing with it.

The powers-that-be at FBI Headquarters in Washington DC had decided after the Texas debacle to centralize the “EGMURD” investigation at Quantico. Everyone directly on the task force had been given five days’ notice to relocate. A few consultants who were assisting part-time, like Laura and Tim in their hunt for cryptocurrency and blockchain clues, were allowed to work remotely from recognized secure facilities. Alex needed Laura in DC for other projects but he’d ordered Yael to work exclusively on this case for the time being.

She spotted people heading to work or jogging along various tracks around the base, but she didn’t see anyone else on this narrow path that led to Building 64.

Her computer seemed to weigh more than usual and she adjusted the strap to stop it cutting into her shoulder. Obviously, she’d parked in the wrong spot, but she liked walking so it wasn’t too big a deal.

Virginia was nothing like where she’d grown up. Colorado for the first fourteen years. Arizona with her beloved grandparents for a couple of years after that until they passed. She was sure stress had contributed to their early deaths. Stress and sorrow. After that she’d moved around a lot from job to job.

She liked living on the East Coast but this winter seemed gloomier than normal, the sky duller, the earth gray and lifeless, the leaves more black than russet even when still clinging to the trees. Maybe it was a residual effect of the horrors she’d witnessed on the first day of the new year, but it dragged at her mood.

The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire made her step falter. Saliva pooled in her mouth and her heart began to pound. She forced herself to take in a deep breath and hold it. Some of the recent images had triggered other unwelcome memories. She’d given up on therapists years ago but maybe she needed to revisit the idea or at least start actively looking for some joy in her life.

Or maybe she was simply overtired…

She’d spent part of the weekend setting up her home and gathering supplies, stocking up the fridge and freezer so she didn’t need to leave the house too often except for work.