Page 257 of Silent Target

“I’ll do my best.”

“No secret tunnels before breakfast.”

“That may be harder.”

She laughs.

The sound carries across the dark water.

I pull her into my arms.

For years, I believed distance kept people safe.

Evie taught me the truth.

Distance only means you have farther to go when someone you love needs you.

“I love you,” I say.

She becomes still.

The words frighten me more than any shot I’ve ever taken.

Then her hands slide around my neck.

“I love you too.”

She kisses me beneath the harbor lights.

No bullets.

No alarms.

Only rain, cold air, and the woman I crossed Washington to find.

Inside the warehouse, Fathom suddenly calls for Rook.

The moment ends.

Evie sighs against my mouth.

“Trouble?”

“Probably.”

We return inside.

A map of Charleston fills Fathom’s center monitor. Photographs of crowded tourist locations appear beside intercepted Black Banner messages.

“They aren’t planning one attack,” he says. “They’re planning a sequence designed to make the city believe nowhere is safe.”

Rook studies the screen.

“What do you need?”

“Someone who understands the person behind it.”

Another photograph appears.