Chapter 6 - Smoke
"He's destroying evidence," Adrian said.
"Or pretending to," I replied.
Eleanor turned to a guard. "Call 911. Evacuate the rooftop."
The guard tried his radio. Static.
Our phones showed no service.
Signal jammer.
Professional job.
I zip-tied Caleb with a cable from Adrian's desk and handed the pistol to the senior guard.
"Do not let Vanessa near him."
Vanessa glared. "Excuse me?"
"He knows you. I don't know how well."
"I am not part of this."
"Then you should want him alive."
That shut her up.
Adrian followed me into the stairwell.
"You're not coming."
"My office is burning."
"Your building is burning."
"Exactly."
We descended four flights through smoke and flashing emergency lights. At level thirty-eight, heat rolled through the door.
The records room sprinkler system was not running.
Inside, flames climbed a wall of archive boxes.
Martin stood near the far exit.
"Naomi!"
I stopped.
He was not holding the gas can anymore.
A gun was pointed at his head.
The person holding it stepped into the light.
Lena Ortiz.
For five years, I had replayed Prague in my dreams: Lena bleeding on a tiled floor, medics cutting away her jacket, her hand slipping out of mine.
Now she stood twenty feet away in black tactical clothing, older, thinner, and very much alive.
"Hello, Carter," she said.
I forgot the fire for one second.
"Lena."
"Don't come closer."
"What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up."
Martin shook his head. "She's working for them."
"For who?"
Lena smiled without humor. "That's the problem. Everyone thinks there's one side."
Behind us, something exploded in the corridor.
Adrian flinched.
Lena's eyes moved to him.
Recognition.
"You brought a Cole?" she asked.
Adrian frowned. "Do I know you?"
"No. But your father knew mine."
Then she shoved Martin toward us.
"Take him and leave."
"Come with us," I said.
"Not yet."
"Lena—"
She reached into her pocket and threw me a key.
A brass key with the number 1704 engraved on it.
"Your mother has the rest."
My blood ran cold.
"What did you say?"
Lena backed toward the fire exit.
May you like
"Naomi, your mother lied about why your father died."
Then the ceiling came down between us.
