Page 162 of Silent Target

I grip her shoulders.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Turn around.”

“Caleb.”

“Humor me.”

She turns.

No blood.

No torn clothing.

Only then do I breathe.

When she faces me again, something soft enters her eyes.

“You checked twice.”

“I’m not taking chances.”

The battle continues around us, but for one heartbeat, there’s only Evie.

Then Fathom points toward the screen.

The railcar races through the tunnel.

Walter sits across from an older man whose face I can finally see.

“Who is he?” I ask.

Evie doesn’t answer immediately.

Her pistol lowers by an inch.

“Director Charles Whitmore.”

Mac goes still.

“The former Director of Central Intelligence?”

Evie nods.

“He retired fifteen years ago. He and my father served together.”

“Why was he at the funeral?”

“He gave the eulogy.”

Grief and fury sharpen every word.

“He stood beside my mother. He told me my father’s heart had failed because he worked too hard.”

The man who comforted her after Daniel Hart’s death ordered it.