Standing between the two men, Peyton hesitated. She reached over, threw the quilt off Desmond, and slid the gun out of his shoulder holster. She kept her body in front of his, shielding him, turned, and held out her free hand to her father, just inches from his gun.

“You too, Dad.”

He scrutinized her, then seemed to read the There’s no negotiation look Desmond had come to know so well. He smiled just a little as he handed her the gun.

“You’ve been watching us,” Desmond said.

William moved out of the way of the windows and put his back against the stone wall. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’ve been investigating the Citium for over thirty years—since the purge. I’m the only one with any chance of stopping them. And now, on the eve of the Looking Glass, they can’t afford to leave me alive. It makes sense to me that they would send someone to kill me. Someone with a great story. Someone who could leverage perhaps the only thing in this world that could make it possible for anyone to get close to me.” He looked at Peyton, indicating that she was that leverage—implying that Desmond had used her to get to him.

“I’m not here to kill you,” Desmond said. “Just the opposite. I want to help you. To stop them. More than anything.” His tone grew skeptical. “But I’m not the one who needs to explain. In ’91, they sent you that box. They knew exactly where you were. Why didn’t they just take you out?”

“I’ve thought about that a lot over the last twenty-five years.”

“And?”

“And when I trust you, I’ll tell you why I think they left me alive.”

Peyton placed the guns on the kitchen table. “Let’s start trusting each other right now. We don’t have time to waste.” She coughed, then inhaled deeply.

She’s getting sicker, Desmond thought.

William studied her, seemed to realize it too. “Yes. Time is certainly of the essence.”

Peyton motioned to the letter. “Let’s start over. Dad, you wrote this letter to Desmond. Why?”

“Three weeks ago he contacted me online. I had developed a number of websites and identities related to the Citium and former projects. They were like breadcrumbs back to me in case someone ever surfaced. I expected maybe a scientist from before the purge.” William motioned to Desmond. “Somehow, he found me. He said the Looking Glass was nearing completion. That he had been lied to, that what they were planning was very different from what he was promised.”