Page 139 of Into the Fire

“I thought I avoided them pretty well.”

“Perhaps by your low standards.”

His hand swiped at the hot-water lever and missed. He reached for it again. A quick turn and he was through into the Vault. “I was busy trying to not get killed.”

“You should be used to that by now.”

“Fair enough,” Evan said, dropping into his chair with relief. His jaw started watering, a warning signal.

“Have you been resting?”

“Sure.”

“How’s the concussion?” Joey asked.

Evan hit MUTE, slid over the trash can, and threw up into it violently enough to strain his intercostals. He wiped his mouth, unmuted the phone. “Okay,” he said.

“Sure,” she said. “You sound fresh as a daisy.”

He gripped the edge of the table to try to stop the room from spinning. Vera II looked on with moral support.

“I just wanted you to know you’re free to retire now. Your tracks are completely covered. Once again I swing to your rescue. You’re such a damsel in distress. I mean, if I hadn’t found the hidden files on Grant’s thumb drive, you’d still be—”

His Gmail account, projected onto the wall before him, showed an e-mail message.

No sender. No subject line.

“Joey,” he said. “I have to go.”

He hung up on her while she was still mid-insult.

With a trembling hand, he clicked to open the e-mail.

A single sentence: Have you considered my offer?

The president, checking in on the status of the informal pardon.

Beneath the single sentence was a familiar phone number, a code word, and an extension.

(202) 456-1414. Dark Road. 32.

The informal pardon would put an end to the race he’d been running since the age of twelve, when he’d stepped off that rest-stop curb and into Jack’s car. No more knife wounds and concussions. No more dogfighting pits and shooters in shadowy parking lots. No more police-station raids and voluntary jail stints.

No more missions.

He’d always thought that being the Nowhere Man was his way of paying penance. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe risking his life for others again and again and again gave him the only sense of purpose he could find.

Would he be able to find another purpose as true as that?

He looked at Vera II. “What do you think?”

She seemed skeptical.

This wasn’t the time for debate. He still had a makeshift SWAT command on his ass and a cabal of city leaders to exterminate.

He returned Vera II’s haughty glare. “I know, I know. ‘Miles to go before I sleep.’ I just need a sec to lie down.”

Vera II gave him more passive-aggressive silence.