“Yes.”
Cal lets out a low breath. “So she’s not running scared.”
“No,” Vale says. “She’s running armed.”
I look back down at the photo.
Ava.
Alive.
After all this time.
After the blood.
The fire.
The report that said there was nothing left to recover.
Every muscle in my body locks down harder.
“This isn’t possible.”
Vale slides another file across the table.
I open it.
Inside are surveillance stills, timestamps, travel routes, partial interceptions.
Then one page stops me cold.
A handwritten note.
Scanned.
Three words.
Tell Ethan run.
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts.
That’s her handwriting.
I know it.
I would know it anywhere.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
Vale’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“We think she’s headed for a dead-drop site outside Prague.”
“We think?”
“She’s good.”
Yeah.
