The man shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just heard Arkady mention her name.”
Rowan.
My chest tightens.
Mikel steps back into view. “No cameras inside. No explosives. Looks like a pass-through and interrogation point.”
A staging unit. It’s Arkady’s style.
The driver suddenly leans forward, his voice urgent. “There was another stop. Before they switched vehicles. They met at a place by the water.”
Every other detail falls into the background, and my eyes narrow as I fix on him. “Describe it.”
The man squints like he’s replaying it. “Private drive. Gate. Trees. It felt like… a cabin area. Or a house that’s meant to be hidden.”
My pulse kicks as Karp’s attention shifts to Mikel, and Mikel’s gaze comes straight to me without a word needing to pass between them.
The lake property. Polina’s surveillance.
My phone vibrates again in my hand. It’s Polina.
I answer immediately. “Report.”
Her voice comes through clearly. “Activity confirmed at the lake property. Multiple armed men. One vehicle matches Arkady’s captain. We don’t have visual confirmation of Rowan.”
My jaw tightens. “Hold position. No engagement.”
“I understand.”
I look at the man. “You’re coming with us.”
His eyes widen. “I did what they told me! I didn’t want any part of this!”
“Then you will help end it,” I return. “You want to survive, then you give me everything you remember. Every turn. Every gate. Every marker.”
He nods rapidly, fear making him eager.
Karp signals to two of his men with a subtle motion of his hand, and they step in immediately, securing the man with firm grips on his arms and steering him toward the SUV Karp’s team arrived in.
I step out of the unit and scan the lot again. Snow continues to fall, soft and indifferent. One of Karp’s other men is already hauling the bodies away, quietly dragging them out of sight, leaving no trace behind.
It’s not a rescue. Not yet. But it’s a thread, and threads are what lead you to the center if you’re patient enough to follow them.
We move back toward the vehicles, the snow crunching under our boots. My driver steps ahead and opens the rear door, waiting without looking at me. I pause before getting in, the cold cutting across my face.
Rowan is somewhere near that water. Or she was. Arkady wants me to rush, to kick in the wrong door with too many guns and too much anger. I won’t give him that.
I slide into the back seat, and Mikel follows, the door closing with a solid thud. The engine hums as the driver pulls us away, and the interior begins to warm, the cold lingering just long enough to keep my thoughts clear.
Mikel watches me. “If she’s there, you’ll need to decide quickly.”
“I already decided,” I reply.
He waits.
I look out at the city beyond the fence line. “We confirm before we strike. We isolate the perimeter. Take the men outside first.”
“And if Arkady moves her again?”
