Breaking Point

Chapter One

FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C.
June 20, 2005
Present Day


It was a fabulous day. Blue sky. Low humidity. Not a lot of traffic this time of morning. Green lights at every intersection. A parking spot within javelin-throwing distance of the office building.

The elevator opened at the touch of the button and he rode it, express, all the way up to his floor. The doors opened again, and he got a good look at himself in the foyer mirror.

Dressed to shine in his favorite black suit, with a new shirt he’d bought himself as a present, Jules Cassidy was not your average, run-of-the-mill FBI agent, that was for sure. He pocketed his sunglasses and adjusted his tie, then headed down the hallway with a spring in his step.

When you look good, you feel good. No doubt about them apples.

Laronda’s reception desk sat empty, but Max Bhagat’s office door was tightly closed.

As early as Jules had come in today, his boss, the legendary FBI team leader known as “the Max” to his younger, more irreverent, and slightly less original junior subordinates–but never, ever called that to his face–had come in even earlier.
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