Blake’s reflection stared back at him in the elevator’s mirrored wall — tired eyes, blood at his collar, the ghost of everything he’d already lost. He slid the phone into his pocket, decision made. He only hoped it was the right one.
“Now,” he said, “we find out just how deep Laurel Tide runs, and how far a father will go to bring it down.”
The elevator stopped, doors opened, and the man stepped out, leaving them behind. “You have two minutes until the cameras cut on. Take this elevator to three, then back stairs to the main floor. Emergency exit. Car is waiting for you. Map and coordinates are inside the vehicle. Along with intel on Laurel. Stay until you get my call.”
“We’ve got our own place,” Blake shot back at him.
“Your so-called safe house is compromised. Maddox has been keeping your location since you got here. And if the Bureau knows, so does Laurel.”
The elevator doors slid shut again, the soft whoosh sounding too final. Blake’s pulse still pounded in his ears, an echo of adrenaline that wouldn’t quit. Every instinct screamed trap. Every memory of Laurel Tide saidno one gets out alive unless they want you to.
He didn’t trust Thirteen. But the man’s words —save the woman you love— gnawed through his composure like acid.
Vivian pressed the button for the third floor, her hand trembling just enough for him to notice. “What if he’s playing us? Leading us right into another setup?”
Blake’s gaze stayed on the floor numbers ticking upward. “Then I’ll deal with him.”
“Blake—”
“Viv.” His voice came out low, rougher than he meant. “If he’s lying, I’ll know. But if he’s not…” He met her eyes. “Then this is the only chance we’ve got to get out of here alive.”
The elevator chimed. Third floor.
He scanned the hall before stepping out, one hand hovering near his weapon. No nurses, no patients — just the sterile hum of fluorescents and the faint antiseptic burn that coated everything. Exactly like Thirteen promised.
They moved fast, Vivian limping. He caught her elbow once when she faltered, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to her weight in his hand.
Then they were running again.
The stairwell door loomed ahead. Blake pushed through, the metal handle cool against his palm. The echo of their footsteps spiraled upward, then down, the sound swallowed by concrete.
“A little girl?” Vivian whispered as they descended. “It’s… convenient.”
Blake didn’t answer right away. He thought of the video — the girl on the cot, her small hands clutching the edge of a blanket that didn’t fit. He thought of Thirteen’s eyes, the hollow kind that came from watching too many things die.
“Because some lines,” he said finally, “even monsters don’t want to cross.”
They burst through the door to the main floor corridor. It was chaos—alarms still echoing from the earlier lockdown, voices shouting in distant wings, code teams rushing past. Perfect cover.
Blake followed the arrows painted along the wall—EMERGENCY EXIT →—until they hit the door marked for staff use only. He shoved it open.
Outside, night hit them like a slap—cold, thick with the scent of salt and exhaust. A black SUV idled in the alley, engine running, headlights off.
Blake’s hand went to his weapon again. “Stay behind me.”
He approached, scanning the surrounding shadows. No one hid in the floorboards waiting to ambush them. The vehicle was empty, just as Thirteen had said. The driver’s seat held a folded map and a manila envelope.
Blake opened it. Inside: a single page with coordinates scrawled in block letters. A remote stretch of coastline, two hours south. Beneath it, a keycard and a handwritten note.
“Don’t go to your so-called safe house. Maddox’s been tracking you since you started your mission. And Laurel Tide will come for you by morning.”
He exhaled slowly, glancing toward Vivian. “Great. Looks like we’ve got no choice but to accept Thirteen’s invitation.”
“To our grave,” she said softly.
He gave a humorless smile. “At this point, anywhere we go is a gamble, but he let us live for a reason. Whatever that reason is buys us time.”
They climbed in and Blake drove away. The hospital disappeared in the rearview mirror, but he caught sight of a figure on the rooftop — just a silhouette against the glow. Watching. Waiting.
