The Double Agent's Last Inning
Elena smoothed the blanket over their knees and passed him the Tupperware. The spinach salad was wilting in the Sunday heat, but David ate it without complaint, his eyes fixed on their son at home plate.
"He's got his mother's eye," David said, chewing slowly. "He spotted that curveball coming."
"He's got your patience," Elena countered, though her phone buzzed in her pocket — a new encrypted message from headquarters. TARGET COMPROMISED. EXTRACT ASSETS. TERMINATE IF NECESSARY.
She watched David adjust his sunglasses, the same way he'd done every weekend for twelve years of Little League games. She knew the way his jaw tightened before a lie. She knew he preferred his spinach with balsamic, never ranch. She knew he'd been working late at the rival energy conglomerate for three years, ever since his promotion.
What she hadn't known — until her own agency had connected the dots last week — was that he'd been feeding her company's proprietary drilling data to his side. The iron was delicious, she thought bitterly. The absolute poetry of it.
"You're quiet," David said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Everything okay at work?"
"Fine." She forced a smile. "Just thinking about how baseball prepares you for life, you know? All that waiting. All that pretending."
His phone buzzed now. He checked it, froze for a fraction of a second, then stood up. "I need to use the restroom."
Elena watched him walk toward the concession stand, then checked her own message again. TARGET CONFIRMED AS DOUBLE AGENT. ELIMINATE.
Their son hit a triple. The other parents cheered. David was watching from beside the bathrooms, his hand in his pocket where he kept his switchblade. Elena slipped her hand into her purse, fingers closing around the syringe.
The baseball game continued, innings ticking away like a countdown. They'd chosen this life. They'd chosen each other. But the agency had chosen first.
She stood up and walked toward him, spinach forgotten on the bench, wondering if he'd use the blade or if she'd get close enough with the needle. Either way, this was their final inning together.