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competitive. “You don’t think I was going to make it on my own, do you?”
    “That’s not what I said.” John shook his head and readjusted his ball cap. “Forget I said anything.” With that, John turned his back on his son and approached the machine to reload it with another round of baseballs.
    “You didn’t believe I was capable,” Dominic repeated. He refused to let it go. “You assumed I’d be rejected…” Dominic’s voice rose in both volume and pitch.
    John sighed. “Look, if you want, I can call them back and rescind my recommendation.”
    “Your recommendation?” Dominic shouted. He paced, trying to stay calm. “Was it really a recommendation or did you just pull your puppet strings?” His face grew hot, flushing with embarrassment and anger as he spoke. “You didn’t think I was good enough….you never did. And you still don’t…”
    “Fine, Dominic. I will call and tell them to reconsider your acceptance, based purely on your merits,” John said, his voice an annoying monotone. “If that’s what you want.” Dominic’s face flushed beet red. His father’s extreme—and perpetual—composure only added to his frustration.
    “Forget it, Dad,” Dominic half-turned to leave and made a snap decision. “I’m leaving. I’ll accept your help this once, but when I get there, I’m going to finally be beyond your reach. You won’t be able to swoop in and pretend to be my savior anymore when you think I can’t handle myself. I will do this on my own and I’m going to ace it. I’m going to prove you wrong. I belong there.”
    Dominic stomped off, across the street, got in his car and sped away. As he flew past the cage on his way out of campus, he saw his father watching his retreat, his bat on his shoulder and a frown on his face.
     
    A sudden knock on his office door woke Dominic. Startled and disoriented, he offered a quick prayer of thanks it wasn’t Sloan catching him asleep, but their young intern, Craig, hand-delivering the photos.
    Despite the sensitive nature of their casework, interns in the outer office and labs were not uncommon, though they were never allowed much access to anything important and had their actions closely monitored. Because of the close scrutiny these young kids were under, the positions always attracted the same type of person—hardworking, but bland personalities—so Dominic usually avoided them.
    But Craig broke most of the stereotypes. He was friendly, cheerful, funny and best of all, in Dominic’s opinion, a sports nut. The kid was reminiscent of himself at that age.
    After scanning the images to ensure they turned out and confirming the identity of their target, Dominic wasted little time delivering them to Sloan. “It’s him alright, boss. No doubt.” He pulled out the third photograph and pointed. “This is the best shot of his face. There’s a shadow, but there’s no question it’s him.”
    “Harrumph,” Sloan grumped. “What’s your next move?” Dominic recognized Sloan’s tactic of allowing his agents work through ideas on their own. He said it promoted stronger leadership qualities.
    “Go back there. Stake it out again. This time, follow him.”
    “And then what?
    “Want us to confront him? Arrest him?”
    “Not yet. I want to play this slow. Don’t overlook anything. Just report back everything he does and everywhere he goes. Then we’ll figure out what to do with that information.”
    “You sure, boss? We could bring him in and question…”
    “No.” Sloan interrupted. “He might just be the tip of the iceberg. If we brought him in, we’re at the mercy of whatever he decides to tell us. We need to know what information he might not be so willing to reveal in interrogation. Let’s see where he leads before we jump to that.”
    “I hope you’re right, boss.”
    “Me too. First thing in the morning, I want you and Faye at that site, watching. And for Pete’s sake, get some sleep tonight. In fact, why don’t