“She’s the mole,” I say. “But she wants to keep her position in ISD. That’s why she waited until there were no witnesses to hand over Piper. She had to keep up that loyal handler act in front of me and Nonna. Now, Vale can just hit her over the head and Consul will pretend that she was found and overpowered.”
And the bad guys win.
Eames sinks into the couch, head in his hands. “She’s gone,” he says, sounding lost. “I failed her.”
No, he didn’t. I did. I failed them both.
“Who’s Nonna?” asks Eames suddenly.
It takes a few moments for the words to register. I turn to look at him. He is still on the couch, shoulder slouching. “What?”
“Nonna,” he repeats. “You said ‘Nonna.’”
Oh. I’ve slipped—and I know it. I should be terrified, but I can’t muster up the energy. “I meant the old lady in the apartment.”
What if Consul went after her? What if she wanted to ensure that she left no witnesses behind?
I leave the apartment without a word. There’s no time to explain anything, not anymore. I hear Eames rise to his feet and follow me.
I bang on Nonna’s door. “Come on,” I mutter, shifting back and forth on my feet. I’ll break open the door if I have to. There must be a fire axe around here somewhere.
I can’t leave without knowing if she’s alive or not.
My fist slams into the wood again and again. “Open up!” I call. “Please, it’s me! If you can—”
A shadow covers the peephole, then the door opens.
Nonna stands there, one hand clutching her rolling pin and the other holding the door. “Augusta,” she says, startled. “Eames.”
I breathe. It’s all I can do. If I focus on my breathing, I won’t throw myself into her arms.
“Are you all right?” asks Nonna worriedly. I must look pretty bad. “Come in.”
Her apartment is wrecked. The closet doors are open, the sofa overturned, things strewn about. A hasty search has thrown her life into disarray, but at least Vale and the others haven’t harmed her.
“It was Consul,” says Eames. He looks every bit as wretched as I feel. “She’s the traitor. She handed Piper over to my mom.”
If it were anyone else, I’d expect them to look confused or protest. But for all her years, Nonna is as sharp as ever. Anger flares behind her eyes. “She was supposed to protect that girl.”
“Well, she didn’t,” I say.
“I don’t know what to do,” says Eames. He looks at me, his face cracked open wide with despair. “What do we do?”
I wish I knew. I would give anything for the answers.
“She’ll be leaving now,” I say. “I don’t know how. Vale must have some escape planned.”
“What about you?” asks Nonna, her gaze flashing to Eames. “She wouldn’t leave without her son.”
“She would,” he says heavily. “Aunt Connie was probably the one who told Mom that I sold her out. That I was willing to testify against her. She’ll hate me, I’m sure. But Piper’s still her little girl.”
Nonna gestures at her sliding glass door. “There are hundreds of cops out there. You’re telling me Vale is going to take her daughter into that?”
“No,” says Eames. “She’ll have another way out. She always has another way out.”
“Too bad we don’t know what it is,” I say.
I’m out of ideas. I’m out of weapons and energy and drive.
