The first made sense. The second surprised her. Surely any leader running multiple teams of assassin hunters would expect that sooner or later, a killer would take offense at having been targeted and come seeking in murderous, retaliatory rage.

It’d be gratifying to write Liv off as a self-deceiving fool and toy with the reversed power dynamics, but that would make her the bigger idiot.

Her heartbeat spelled out revenge.

Her fist answered, Unknown.

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 36

Six Flags America
Woodmore, Maryland, USA

JACK

THE CHAIN LIFT RATCHETED OVERHEAD AGAIN, AND METAL RUSHED against metal, and empty seats accelerated through a banked turn, and the pattern of preopening safety checks that had been going on for nearly an hour now started anew.

The clock on his wrist said early afternoon.

Five days of hard hours on the rough, grabbing sleep in whatever small increments he could, said it was so-over-it o’clock.

He’d hauled eighty pounds of gear through the night to get here, following the transmission lines that cut a swath through woodland and suburban enclaves and woodland again, ten miles of hugging the easement edge like his own private walking trail, and then off into the untamed forest to cut his own path to the park’s outer boundary. He’d waited out the bone-chilling damp in the branches of a white oak not five hundred yards from where he was now, watching the lights, listening to screams of delighted terror, until the holiday hours ended and the employees and food vendors closed out and security staff were the only souls left.

All those bullshit years with Clare had led to this, these hours crawling in and out of restricted areas and building shells and down into overgrowth and bushes, hiding supply stashes. This was Colombia and Greece, Bulgaria and Indonesia and Germany and Belize, it was his entire life compressed into twenty-four hours, and today it all ended, or he did, because one way or the other, he was done.

Recorded announcements and music rose over roller-coaster rhythm.

Another day begun. Another park opening.

Inside the mental maze each beacon moved into place.

Feet tromped up the stairs and sent dust from the platform into his face.

The pager vibrated, alerting him to Holden’s arrival.

Jill’s alert followed a few minutes later.

They’d come separately, entering through the front gate, carrying what they could safely get past a security team known more for impounding outside food and drink than for anything else. They’d roam, charting paths, scouting positions.

They’d find the drop marks.