“No.”He opened the sketchbook to crossed circles.“She’s in their next shipment.No relatives, easy to move.”
Keisha studied the page.“These symbols were in Coastal’s files.Tiana’s transfer papers.”
“You saw them?”Sergei’s voice sharpened.
“As clerical marks.”She flipped pages.“They’re on all Coastal’s docs.”
“You were auditing their trail,” Sergei said.“That’s why they targeted you.”
She stopped on two stars, a line between.“This was on Tiana’s approval.”
“Handler mark.Dmitri.”Sergei pointed to the name.“He runs Miami’s pipeline.”
A knock rattled the door—three quick raps.Sergei drew his knife, pushing Keisha behind him.Another knock.Two slow, one quick.Nadia’s signal.Or a trap.
“Who?”Keisha whispered, breath warm on his neck.
He shook his head, knife ready, edging to the door.
“Sergei,” a voice called.
Nadia.
“It’s me.They found Mateo.”
His blood froze.Mateo, moving Tiana.
Keisha pushed forward.“Let her in.”
“If it’s a trap—” Sergei started.
“Every second counts,” Keisha said, hand on his over the bolt.“Together, remember?”
Her touch broke him.He slid the bolts, knife up, opening the door.Nadia stumbled in, laptop clutched, blood streaking her cheek.
“They hit the safehouse network,” she gasped.“All of them.They’re moving tonight.”
The door clanged shut, a death knell.Keisha’s hand shook.Sergei met her gaze, guilt and purpose locking them together.They’d save her, or die trying.
