“Stay with me,” I whisper in her ear. “Focus on your feet. Left. Right. Left.”
“They were in the room,” she whispers. Her voice is jagged. “They were right there.”
“They’re still there. Keep moving.”
We reach the parking garage. It feels like three miles. Every siren in the distance makes my muscles lock. Every pair of eyes that lingers on us feels like a laser sight.
The maroon minivan is sitting in the shadows of the third deck. It looks impossibly normal. A stick-figure family on the back window. Dust on the bumper.
I scan the perimeter. No black SUVs. No loitering men in earpieces.
Phoenix tracked the IP address to the hotel, but they haven’t triangulated the vehicle. We have a window. A small one. Maybe minutes before they lock down the city grid.
I unlock the doors. “Get in.”
She climbs into the passenger seat, moving stiffly. I slide behind the wheel.
I turn the key. The engine comes to life with a low hum.
We descend the ramp, paying the attendant with cash before merging into traffic.
Ten minutes of silence.
Then the highway on-ramp. I-95 South. Away from the city.
Only then does the adrenaline recede.
And when the adrenaline leaves, rage moves in.
I slam my hand against the steering wheel.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Cassie flinches. She’s huddled against the door.
“I asked you a question,” I snap. The rage is cold, sharp. “I told you every log on is a ping. You compromised your safety.”
“I—”
“We were safe. We were waiting for Cerberus to build a door, and you blew the wall down. You nearly got yourself killed. You nearly got us killed.”
She turns to me. Her face is streaked with tears, but her chin is up. The fire is back.
“While you were waiting for orders, I went to get answers.”
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“I’m not your soldier.” She shouts it. “And I’m not a package.”
“You’re the mission. If you die, we lose.”
“If we don’t fight, we lose anyway.”
She wipes her face with her sleeve.
“I got a lead. I found a contract,” she says, her voice shaking. “Echo Logistics. It’s not just a shell company. It’s a storage facility.”
I grip the wheel tighter.
