Tuesday. Task Force Headquarters. Washington, DC.
KELSEY YOUNG DUCKED INTO the large briefing room fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. She wasn't typically the early bird type. Early birds stuck out and as an undercover FBI agent, she was trained to blend in. But today she couldn't help it. She was too excited.
She was going undercover again. Finally.
Her last gig had a rather climatic ending, which was how she'd wound up part of the task force. At first her being absorbed into the task force had been about controlling who knew what, but she'd pulled her weight, helped out the team, shown herself as trustworthy and made herself useful. Now she was part of the inner circle based on her own merit and the fact that she could be trusted. It was nice working as part of a team, even if it felt foreign and weird.
There were only three other people in the room so far, and she didn't know them.