Briefing Room — Carmichael Industries
The last thing I expected when Beckman called me in—
was her.
"Miss me, Carmichael?"
Carina Miller strolled into the room like gravity didn't apply to her.
Leather jacket over her shoulder.
Confidence dialed to eleven.
That same smirk—
like she already knew how this was going to play out.
I sat up straighter.
Professional.
Controlled.
"Karina. Been a while."
"Not long enough," John Casey muttered from the corner.
Beckman didn't miss a beat.
Diane Beckman's voice cut through the room.
"Carmichael. Miller. You're working together."
A file flashed onto the screen.
"Viktor Rojas. Weapons smuggler. Moving product through Los Angeles."
A pause.
"Karina, you're the buyer. Carmichael—your consultant."
Karina turned her head slowly toward me.
That smile again.
"So… like old times."
Not like old times.
Not even close.
Downtown Los Angeles — Nightclub
The bass hit first.
Then the lights.
Then the crowd.
The nightclub pulsed like a heartbeat—
neon bleeding through smoke, bodies moving in rhythm, money and danger mixing in the air.
Rojas' kind of place.
Karina slipped into it effortlessly.
Dress catching every light.
Movement deliberate.
Predatory.
She found Viktor Rojas at the bar.
Leaning in—
just enough.
"Mr. Rojas. I hear you have something worth buying."
He smiled instantly.
Hooked.
"And you are?"
"Karina Volkova."
A beat.
"And this is my consultant."
I stepped in beside her.
Suit clean.
Voice calm.
"Charles Carmichael. Logistics."
I offered a hand.
"Making sure your shipments… arrive."
Rojas laughed, shaking it.
"I like that. Smart woman—bringing someone to handle the boring details."
Karina glanced sideways at me.
Slow.
Intentional.
"Oh, Carmichael's never boring."
The Back Room
While she worked him—
I slipped away.
The office door clicked shut behind me.
Laptop already running.
Security light blinking.
Flash.
Access point.
Password pattern.
Encryption layer.
Gone.
Drive in.
Download started.
"Manifests pulling now," I murmured into the comm.
Karina's voice came back, amused.
"Make it quick. I'm running out of patience pretending to like him."
Despite everything—
I almost smiled.
Seconds later—
done.
Routes.
Clients.
Drop points.
Everything.
I pulled the drive—
slipped out—
just as Rojas leaned a little too close.
Karina stood smoothly.
Stepping away.
Control never slipping.
"We'll be in touch, Viktor."
And just like that—
we were gone.
Westside Medical — The Next Day
The hospital smelled like coffee and antiseptic.
Normal.
Safe.
Stephanie Barnett poured herself a coffee—
when a voice cut in.
Smooth.
Confident.
"Dr. Barnett?"
She turned.
Saw her.
Karina.
"Yeah," Stephanie said carefully. "That's me."
Karina smiled.
Measured.
"I know Chuck."
A beat.
"Pretty well."
Stephanie didn't react.
Not outwardly.
"Oh?"
Karina stepped closer.
Lowered her voice just enough.
"Back when he was still figuring himself out…"
A pause.
"…we had a night."
Not crude.
Not detailed.
Just enough.
"Situational," Karina added lightly. "Fun. Nothing serious."
Stephanie held her ground.
Professional mask intact.
"Funny. He never mentioned you."
Karina shrugged.
"Chuck's modest."
Her eyes flicked—reading her.
Measuring.
Then softer—
almost genuine.
"You've got a good man, Dr. Barnett."
A beat.
"Don't let him slip."
And then she was gone.
Stephanie stood there—
coffee forgotten—
something unsettled sitting just under the surface.
Garage — Carmichael Industries
I knew before I even got out of the car.
She was there.
Leaning against it.
Waiting.
"What did you do?" I asked immediately.
Karina grinned.
Relaxed.
Unbothered.
"I didn't blow your cover."
A beat.
"I just told her we have history."
I exhaled sharply.
"She didn't need to know that."
Karina pushed off the car.
Stepped closer.
"You're living two lives, Carmichael."
Her voice dropped.
"People don't stay separate forever."
My jaw tightened.
"You don't get to use her to test me."
That got a reaction.
A flicker.
Then—
interest.
Karina tilted her head slightly.
Studying me.
"Everything's a test."
A beat.
"You should know that by now."
Silence stretched.
Tight.
Charged.
Then she stepped back—
that same smirk returning.
And just like that—
she walked away.
Leaving me standing there—
Caught between two worlds.
Again.
Final Thought
Chuck Bartowski had something real.
Something normal.
Something worth protecting.
Charles Carmichael?
He lived in a world where nothing stayed simple.
Nothing stayed separate.
And Karina Miller—
was about to make sure of it.