"Indeed interesting, since we didn't get those models. I have the standard issued one too." Hoffa joined in, pointing to his own holster and sure enough, it held the same gun. "Peter is the only one who has a different brand, because he earned it."
It was a lie, one that saved Peter, and maybe the entire department from blowing up, because Hoffa had finally realized that something was off. Not just that, he also knew that what Peter said about having extra service guns and cleaning them was obviously bullshit.
Peter didn't even own another gun, just that one. Fuck, nobody had three guns in the department and on top of that, Peter never cleaned his own weapon, he always handed it to the technicians.
"Oh, really?" Sirina asked.
"Yeah, they said it will arrive later, as they go department by department." Hoffa continued, surprisingly calm and at least Peter could calm down a bit, as Sirina finally shifted her gaze to Hoffa, locking eyes with him… which also meant that Hoffa himself was trapped.
But from Peter's point of view, Hoffa looked calm, no visible signs of stress, but from Sirina's perspective, it was different.
Hoffa swallowed hard, like he was forcing something down, an instinctive reaction to stress and pressure. The slight squint in his eyes, the forced smile on his face, it was nothing like how he had acted before Peter entered the office.
"Well then, nothing more on that." She said, "Though before I leave, I'd like to ask one more question." She held Hoffa's gaze.
"And what would that be?" Hoffa asked, not even realizing they were already fucked.
"That guy standing outside." Sirina suddenly pointed toward the office window, looking out to the hallway and the larger office area beyond it. "Who is that?"
The moment she asked, Peter started praying, begging that whoever she was pointing at wasn't César. He called on every god he could think of, but when he turned his head toward the window… it was obvious the gods didn't listen as César was out there in the hallway, standing next to the fucking water dispenser, calmly getting himself a cup of water.
It was an absurd situation to witness. César, in that purple velvet shirt and white chinos, casually getting himself a cup of water. He even looked at them, slightly nodding his head with a faint smile, like they knew each other, or like he was just another officer doing his job, and then he casually walked off.
He hadn't listened to the System or well, he had… just got thirsty, and in doing so, he may have caused something bad… because he got Sirina's attention.
More than that… he got her interest.
The smile on her face was something Hoffa had never seen before. He'd known her for years, and she had never smiled like that. There was excitement in it.
"Uh… he's just a witness. I don't know why he's out of the interrogation room." Peter tried to say something believable.
But he knew, they both knew…. that it was already over.
César's outfit alone fucked them up. The same fucking outfit the gang members had described like he didn't even try to make himself less noticeable.
"Can I talk with him?" Her voice came again with the same smile on her face "He got me fired up." Yeah, indeed, César got her smiling, he looked like the perfect example of someone from the cartel, and seeing one in the capital was exciting.
That's where Hoffa and Peter fucked up… they could have just said that César was an undercover agent or something, and the whole situation would have stopped right there. But no, they were under so much stress, pressure and fear that they just blurted out something random.
And now Hoffa had to say something he never thought he'd say to a director… he needed to stop her.
"I'm sorry, but he is currently under part of an investigation, which means you—"
"I am the Director of the NSA." Sirina cut Hoffa off, clearly telling him she didn't give a fuck and had authority over whatever she wanted in his department. "So I can talk with him, right?"
"Yeah… of course."
"Then where is he now?" She looked back at Peter, who was eyeing Hoffa.
"Number… four." Peter said his voice low.
"Then I'm going to talk to him, but don't worry." She stopped at the doorway, glancing back. "I'm not going to interfere in the investigation, just ask basic questions." And with that, she headed toward the room while Hoffa and Peter just stared at each other in disbelief.
Though one thing was at least clear in Hoffa's mind. Nnobody wants to fuck with the NSA, certainly not a cartel that wants to be in the capital… but, of course, César is somebody who would grab every opportunity… and no one could predict what he would do with the NSA Director.