Page 227 of Silent Target

No strenuous activity.

Watch for difficulty breathing.

Return immediately if the wound begins bleeding.

I’m beginning to suspect she plans to enforce all of it.

The medical team treats us for nearly two hours.

Rook’s bullet passed through the outer portion of his shoulder without striking bone or a major artery.

Falcon’s wound is clean.

Mac has two cracked ribs, a concussion, and enough bruises to keep him uncomfortable for weeks.

No one died.

That feels impossible.

Fathom establishes an isolated evidence room in the hangar office. The recovered drives sit inside a sealed terminal that has no connection to the outside world.

The Chairman’s journal rests beneath glass.

The hand-drawn map has been photographed, cataloged, and placed beside it.

Rook enters wearing a sling.

Sarah follows him.

The moment she sees his shoulder, her face hardens.

“You were shot.”

“It missed anything important.”

“That is not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

She stops in front of him and presses one hand carefully against his chest.

For a second, neither speaks.

Then she wraps her arms around him.

Rook’s face changes as he holds her.

The commander disappears.

The man remains.

Falcon leans toward Cobra.

“I’d rather face Victor again.”

Sarah looks over Rook’s shoulder.

“I heard that.”