He was unexpectedly saved by Heather Akron shoving open the doors and marching into the room after him. The green beams of the retina scanner found her yellow-brown eyes, registered her identity, and faded away.

Tom held very still as she took her place by the glass doors gazing on into darkness. He quickly sent Vik and Wyatt a message.

Delay another five minutes.

Then he waited, monitoring Heather from under his optical camouflage. Capitol Summit had destroyed her prospects at the Spire for good. Wyndham Harks had withdrawn their sponsorship of her; the military had held an inquest to question her fitness as a Combatant. She’d been forced to quit; she’d been offered a position at the National Security Agency as a consolation prize. Officially, she’d be an analyst, but everyone knew what that meant when it came to trainees who’d washed out of the program: she’d be there to serve as a walking, talking computer, and if rumors were true, she’d be treated as such. Just like Nigel Harrison.

And then the iron doors swung open again, and someone else followed Heather inside. Tom gave a startled jerk when he saw Lieutenant Blackburn sweep into the room. Tom barely dared to breathe.

“Ms. Akron.”

Heather whipped around. Wariness filled her face. “You. What do you want?”

The green beams began to dance through the air, but Blackburn raised his thick forearm and tapped at his keyboard. The retina scanners blinked off.

What was this? Tom wondered as Blackburn drew toward her. “I couldn’t simply let you leave without a talk about that interesting file you sent me.”

“The time to talk is over,” Heather snapped. Her gaze darted toward the trees, and Tom knew from the sharp gleam in her eyes that she’d noticed the way Blackburn had switched off the retina scanners. “You didn’t intercede for me. You didn’t speak up for me. You could’ve told them I had a computer virus or that I’d malfunctioned, and you didn’t. So I’m going to show you I wasn’t bluffing.” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “I think the military will be fascinated to find out what you’ve been hiding about Tom.”

Tom caught his breath. Of course. Her blackmail of him had fallen through. . . . She must’ve tried it on Blackburn to save her own skin. It obviously hadn’t worked with him either.

“Don’t!” Heather shouted, her voice taking on a shrill pitch.

Tom leaned to the side to see them past the leafy canopy of a fake tree. Blackburn lowered his forearm keyboard, his brow furrowed. Whatever program he’d just tried to use had obviously failed.