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enough to address you as AT Jennings. I expect the same courtesy from you. I worked hard to earn my title. Use it.”
    Okay, that line about respect was a lie. But he was my boss—someone somewhere probably respected him, at least a little—and I wanted to keep my job.
    Maybe I should’ve just let that go and not stood on principle, just this once. Nah. I folded my arms across my chest as I waited. I scowled and briefly entertained the idea of trying to don a neutral expression. But I blew past that thought as swiftly as the last. Fuck him. He’d disrespected me one too many times. I didn’t care if he knew I was angry.
    “Fine.” Mark’s voice was clipped and strained. “Agent O’Connor.” The address sounded more than a little sarcastic to me, but I let it go. For now. “I asked you a question. I’d like an answer.”
    “Very well. I was looking into something.” I played the semantics game extremely well. If he wanted answers from me, he’d have to work for them.
    “I was unaware of any threat calls connected to Utica Avenue. You weren’t even the duty agent last night. You don’t have any active cases right now. Your annual report on Webster isn’t due for another three months, and he’s confined to a mental hospital in Queens, not Brooklyn. So whatever you were doing, it wasn’t threat-related. What was it?” That last was definitely more of a statement than a question.
    “Counterfeit.” I answered him only because it seemed pointless to lie. I was screwed regardless. He was going to hammer me for this. No sense making it worse.
    “You don’t work counterfeit anymore.”
    “I know.”
    “Did the Counterfeit Squad need extra bodies for something last night?” He frowned, and I was willing to bet he thought he’d been left out of the loop.
    “No.”
    He eyed me, his expression speculative. “Who were you doing counterfeit for?”
    “A friend.”
    “What friend?”
    I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
    And it honestly didn’t. At least not as far as I could see. Nothing would be gained by giving him Sarah’s name. She’d most likely get into trouble for even asking me to talk to Akbari.
    That she’d broken protocol with the unofficial request was problematic enough, but I wasn’t supposed to be working anything except threat cases. Counterfeit was off limits to me because I wasn’t in that squad anymore. Sarah hadn’t known that.
    She also hadn’t known what a complete prick my boss could be, or she wouldn’t have bothered asking. But I’d known. And I’d chosen to help her anyway. I refused to drag her under the bus with me. Mark would call her boss just to spite me.
    “It matters to me.”
    “Well, I’m not telling you.”
    “You’re not telling me,” he repeated flatly.
    “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I was looking into something for a friend. You don’t need any more explanation than that.”
    Mark glared at me for a long time. “I can slaughter you for this, you know.”
    “I know.”
    “You still won’t tell me?”
    “I don’t rat out my friends.”
    “I ran,” he murmured.
    I blinked at the abrupt change in subject matter. “I hate running.” Where was he going with that remark, and why had he suddenly decided to exchange workout tips?
    Mark appeared confused. “What?”
    “What?”
    “Why did you say you hate running?”
    “Why did you tell me you ran?”
    Mark looked a touch smug. “No. The country. Iran.”
    “Oh.” I paused and waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “What about it?”
    “Iran comes in next Thursday. He’s scheduled to stay eleven days. The visit may get extended.”
    “I heard.” I definitely didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.
    “I want you to do the intelligence advance.”
    “Jay’s doing the intelligence advance for Iran.”
    “I’m pulling him. His son’s sick.”
    “His son has a cold,” I shot back. “I’m sure he’ll be better by Thursday.”
    “Still, I want him to be