In Director Timor's office, Southworthy fumbled with some papers while Peters stared at his laptop screen, and Timor leaned back thoughtfully in his leather office chair. "That didn't go well."

Southworthy scoffed, "Better to know now. We can't have a field agent breaking down like that on a mission."

Timor turned to Peters. "True enough. OK Simon, who's left?"

"We're down to two. Next is Ann Kassidy."

Timor raised an eyebrow, "Is that the little red-headed filing clerk with the nice ass on the 4th floor?"

"Auburn," interjected Peters.

Timor just looked at him quizzically.

"Her hair is more auburn," corrected Peters.

Southworthy was the first to respond, "The short one, glasses sometimes? I know who you mean. Her name is Kassidy? Are you sure she can handle it? I don't know how she even made it through the academy. She probably weighs all of a hundred and ten pounds. Definitely a quota-filler."

Peters ignored him and clicked away at his laptop. "Holy shit she's persistent. Thirty-one requests for a transfer to a field assignment. Each one shot down with thin, politically correct, excuses about her abilities, size, or the like. Her field qualifications are current, so she hasn't given up. Re-qualified in pistol last month. Shoots a Glock 22 40-cal."

"No shit!" interjected Southworthy.

"Law school, a good one, passed the bar. Her physical fitness tests are good. Runs a 5-mile in about 48 minutes consistently."

Timor seemed to be interested, "What else?"

"She's 5 foot 4, 120 pounds, 39 years old. Meets all of our other qualifications: no children, identity not compromised, no living parents, no dependents, no strong family ties. Clean record. She has a level 1C security clearance."

Southworthy was again surprised, "That's the same as mine! I guess that's why they have her in Records."

Peters paused. "We all know what will likely happen. I, too, have doubts whether she'll be able to handle it. Are we sure we're not going to regret this?"

Timor seemed to be getting impatient. "The tests will prove whether she can handle it soon enough. We'll be able to tell. Did she sign off yet?"

Peters seemed pleased with himself as he revealed a short stack of papers. "All the normal waivers for an undercover agent plus several additional 'eyes only' ones, signed and notarized. None of it in the computer."

Timor's face remained impassive as he looked towards Southworthy one more time. He saw the answer without asking. "A decisive one for a change. OK, send for her."

"Already did," answered Peters.