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could afford to do was look suspicious or like he had anything to hide. With his history, his background, the things he’d done, it was a miracle he wasn’t in a Guantanamo Bay prison. He was lucky to be alive, let alone relaxing in an expensive New York loft.
    Rowan was a new agent; that was all. They hadn’t met. Fine. Everything was going to be fine.
    Relax. Act natural. Cooperate. Be good, Ollie.
    Oliver pulled the door open.
    Rowan wasn’t alone. There was another man with him. They both wore drab suits and ties like CIA, but Oliver still didn’t recognize them.
    â€œMr. Moore? I’m Jim Rowan,” the taller, younger agent said. He gestured at the other man. “This is Agent Morrow.”
    Ask to see their badges. Ask for a warrant.
    But he couldn’t do any of that. He had to appear as cooperative as possible. He had to get on with this.
    â€œCome in.” Oliver smiled, stepping back and holding the door for them. “Would you like some coffee?”
    â€œNo, thank you,” Rowan said briskly. Morrow followed him into the room.
    â€œWhat can I do for you?” Oliver said warmly. He led them into the loft, toward where he’d been sitting.
    â€œWell, we’re still trying to wrap up some loose ends, Mr. Moore,” Rowan explained, pulling a small voice recorder from his shirt pocket. “We just have a few more questions for you, all right?”
    Oliver could feel his pulse speeding up, but he kept himself in check. “All right.” He sat down, aiming to look as neutral as possible. The sooner they got through this, the sooner they would leave.
    â€œGood.” Rowan spoke deliberately into the machine. “Mr. Moore, what can you tell us about a Doctor Glenn?”
    Oliver’s mouth went dry. He stood up and walked to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. “Dr.Glenn? Well . . . didn’t we cover Dr. Glenn in the Agency interrogation already?”
    Oliver could see a hint of annoyance in Rowan’s eyes. “Of course,” Rowan said. “Yes, we did . . . but . . . we’d like to go over it once more, all right? Dr. Glenn. We’ve recovered the majority of his files, but there’s still a great deal missing. Blood work on Gaia Moore, DNA coding tests on Ms. Moore, some documentation on Glenn’s serum. What can you tell us about that serum and those missing files? Where would we locate those missing test results?”
    Oliver had trouble paying attention to anything Rowan had said after the word serum. It was a word he would have been more than happy never to hear again. That fearless serum had been among the most heinous of Loki’s twisted endeavors, and the last thing Oliver wanted to do was focus on it or the lives it had ruined.
    Talking about the serum was only going to bring out the worst in him.
    And he was trying very hard to present his best.
    â€œLook, I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” Oliver said, working harder to maintain the smile. “But I really have told the Agency everything I know about that serum and Dr. Glenn and everything else that . . . Loki did . . . and so I really think you’d be best off just going back and checking the Agency transcripts for—”
    â€œMr. Moore, we’ve been through the transcripts,” Rowan complained. “We would just like you to answer some of the questions again. For our records. Whydon’t you just answer the questions and we’ll be done here much sooner, all right?”
    Oliver locked his eyes with Rowan’s. He didn’t care for his tone at all, but he was trying to stay in control. And control seemed to be something that was increasingly difficult for Oliver lately, particularly when Loki’s actions were being discussed.
    Stay calm. Stay calm at all costs. Do whatever you have to do.
    â€œLook, Agent Rowan.” Oliver smiled through clenched teeth.