Identity - Rewritten

Chapter Five

April 2014

To say that the room is tense would be a polite description.

In reality, Diego is fairly sure that the soul-sucking, strained atmosphere in the room is choking him. Ever since he and Mel arrived a few minutes ago, there's been barely a word spoken, bar a few stiff "hellos" between Asha and Mel, and an introduction between Asha and himself. They're still waiting for Killian to arrive, though it's only 7:58– and Diego would know, considering that he's only checked his phone about twenty times since they got here.

Asha's at the kitchen table, her copy of the case file spread out in front of her, long dark curls hiding her face from view. It's obvious that she wants nothing to do with Mel, or him by extension, but he's sure he hadn't helped by being the reason Mel had almost missed whatever mission Asha was still angry about her almost missing. Mel isn't much better: sitting next to him on the HQ's swanky black leather couch, she isn't even pretending to be engrossed in something else, eyes vacant and resting on the far wall.

Drumming his fingers on the leg on his jeans, Diego sighs, glancing at his phone screen for the twenty-first time. 7:59. Just as he's about to resolve himself to perusing his own case file again out of pure boredom, the door finally open with a quiet click, Ian Sharpe stepping through the entryway.

"Thank God," Diego mutters, under his breath.

He nods briefly at Asha in familiarity before his gaze lands on Diego and Mel. "Ian Sharpe," he greets, because there's little other way to acknowledge that they've never met before than to give a fake name they already know. By the time he's approached, at a full stop on the other side of the coffee table, Diego's standing, offering his hand and name in response.

Mel remains seated, but her gaze is already on Ian when he moves his attention to her, a critical assessment in her eyes. "Mel Carmichael," she says, without offering her hand, and Ian nods and sits in the armchair across from them as if her cold-shoulder was not the small slight it was meant to be.

"Well, now that we're all here, we can begin," Asha says, manila folder once again in its proper, organized form as she strides over to them, perching swifty on the arm of the other chair. "You all know what the mission is, so now we need to discuss how we're going to execute it."

Asha reaches to the bottom shelf of the coffee table, and produces a black laptop bag, out of which comes a notebook. Ian can see her neat, precise handwriting from his position, the whole notebook written in the same black ink, but he's too far away to read any individual words. As she flips to the right page, Ian observes her carefully cultivated image– black pencil skirt, black heels, beige blouse, sitting on a higher plane than the rest of them. She wants it to be clear that she's in control.

Ian guesses that it's because she feels anything but.

"As you all know, Diego and Melanie-"

"Mel," the woman interrupts, from her newly reclined position, back against Diego's side and feet thrown over the arm of the couch. "I prefer Mel."

Asha stares at her blankly for a moment, before gritting her teeth and returning with a simple nod, eyes back on her notebook. She continues, "Diego and Mel are going to be going undercover in Whitlock Academy, posing as adoptive siblings. Obviously, Tommy Sinclair is going to be our highest priority mark, but we also need intel on the other victims, specifically from their friends at school. Also, Tommy's brother Adam would be good angle, although getting to him might be a little harder considering he's not in high school."

"We already made contact with Tommy and Adam," Diego supplies, as everyone's attention turns to him. "We saw them on our way in. Mel's already developing a relationship with Tommy."