“Well,” said Peggy Ann to herself as she continued working on the scarf, “and a pleasant good afternoon to you, too.” She shook her head. “Not even a proper goodbye. Hmph.”

She worked for another ten minutes, finishing the row, and then packed up her things and headed down to find her gate.

CHAPTER 118

HOTEL TIMIȘOARA

TIMIȘOARA, ROMANIA

I had another blackout.

Another day lost to the Darkness.

I have dim memories only of going to the airport. I had to search my pockets for the boarding pass I used. It told me I was in Romania.

Why Romania?

My hand hurt, and I realized it was bandaged. Somehow I’d cut the side of my fist. Had that happened at the processing plant?

No, I didn’t think so.

I looked around. This was a nice hotel room, but which hotel? There was a directory of numbers attached to the phone, and it gave the name of the hotel and my own room number.

Seeing that information began a process that had now become familiar. Details floated back, often without context, and I struggled to make sense of them. I had four different room key cards. They were laid out on the desk, and it took some effort to fish inside my broken head for what they represented. Not sure if that process took five minutes or an hour. All I know is that understanding came, slowly and reluctantly. These were keys for other rooms I’d booked.

Then I jolted.

“Ghost…?” I called.

But there was nothing. No sound. I ran into the bathroom, looking in the closets, under the bed, but Ghost was not in that room.

Panic tried to punch its way out of my chest.

I found my shoes and put them on. Found a gun. A Snellig. How in the fuck did I get that through customs? Nothing made sense, and the thought that I—in my fugue state—had either abandoned Ghost or …

I couldn’t go there.

I grabbed the room keys, tucked the gun into my waistband, and ran into the hall.

“Ghost,” I sobbed. “No…”

CHAPTER 119

THE PAVILION

BLUE DIAMOND ELITE TRAINING CENTER

STEVENS COUNTY, WASHINGTON

Mia Kleeve huddled in a treetop with Belle.

It was midday, and the Fixers were creating thunder with live fire drills. A third of them were in body armor and a dozen in the K-110 fighting machines. During the night, they’d received intel from Scott Wilson about what the science team had been able to piece together. It was truly terrifying.

The two women, though hidden and unsuspected by the enemy, were shaken to their cores. As was Andrea, who was at his post on the far side of the camp. His bird drones sent images to them and to the TOC.

“God, I wish we could just call in a strike,” muttered Mia. “Drop a fuel-air bomb and just erase this whole place.”