Page 145 of Silent Target

“What is it?” Evie asks.

“I made those.”

Everyone looks at him.

“When they evaluated me, they left me alone at this desk for six hours. No food. No water. A camera watched from the wall.”

His finger follows the marks.

“I counted the minutes.”

Six groups of sixty scratches.

A record of someone trying not to break.

“They weren’t evaluating whether you belonged,” Evie says.

Mac looks at her.

“They were measuring how long it would take to control you.”

A harsh laugh escapes him.

“They’re still measuring.”

Fathom’s tablet sounds.

The archive lights flicker.

“What now?” Cobra asks.

“They’re moving data through the bunker network.”

“Destroying it?”

Fathom’s fingers race.

“No. Transmitting it.”

“Where?”

“I can’t trace the destination.”

Evie looks toward the missing ledgers. “The electronic files are going out while someone carries the physical originals.”

“Graves,” Rook says.

“Or the Chairman,” I answer.

A mechanical announcement fills the room.

“Archive breach confirmed.”

“Containment teams authorized.”

Falcon rises from the chair, his uninjured hand tightening around his weapon.

Shark moves beside him.