And he returned to the hub and headed for his bed, conscious of the way silence and solitude amplified each step. Other than Vadik, whom he’d left shackled in Anna’s place, he was alone in this building. He wiped down the PYa Grach, and returned it to the hand of the sentry to whom it belonged. He did the same with the knife and grabbed the shoulders of the body lying across the threshold, lamp metal still protruding from beneath the chin, dragged it into the hall, and propped it up. And he returned to the room, to his bed, slipped off his shoes, lay back, hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

They’d promised him freedom and brought him here instead.

They hadn’t let him see Anna.

He didn’t respond well to force or threats—he’d said so plainly—but those most used to giving orders were often deafest to warnings.

Some people needed shouting.

“Sleep,” the man in the suit had said. “We talk in the morning.”

Indeed they would.

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 25

Wien Hauptbahnhof
Vienna, Austria

KARA

SHE WOVE PAST SLEEK SIGNAGE AND MODERN DEPARTURE BOARDS, head down, fists clenched, into the main concourse, where translucent panels and recessed lights played contrast against the folded lines and open spaces of the tracks. Vienna station was an architectural playground, but all she saw was shoes and floor.

She needed to get in, get to a phone, get out.

That was the mantra cycling through her brain.

This call was an obligation, a duty that now fell on her.

Failing to follow through would invite questions and suspicions and make her a scapegoat for the fiasco in Prague.

Making the call portended the same outcome.

Vienna had never been part of the plan.

She’d made a judgment call and taken what was left of her team off-line. She’d expected to have to fight Aaron and his bickering the whole way, but he’d followed her lead without protest. He’d been docile enough, really, that under other circumstances she’d have fast-tracked his way to a psych appointment.

Struggling to hold her own shit together, as she was, she didn’t have the bandwidth for his mental health, too, so the ride out of Prague had been five hours of silence: silent pain, silent questions, silently buying tickets and finding tracks and seats and, upon arriving, silently finding a place to sit tight. She’d gotten him settled in the food court, and waited until he’d begun to pick at his meal before telling him she was going for answers. He’d put a hand on her arm and stopped her.

He’d pushed a plate in her direction. Voice breaking, he’d said, “You need to eat. You need to take care of yourself, too.”