10:51 PM.Marcus paid the bill. Left a decent tip. Not too much....that would be memorable. But enough to be polite.Torres was already standing. Jacket zipped. Ready to move.They left the coffee shop. Stepped into the Chicago night.The temperature had dropped. Marcus felt it immediately. That deep cold that came with late October. The kind that seeped into your bones.He turned up his collar. Shoved his hands in his pockets. Started walking.Torres fell into step beside him."Which route?" Torres asked quietly."West on Adams. Then south on Wacker. Direct approach. We're just two guys walking. Nothing suspicious.""Right."They walked in silence. Marcus kept his pace casual. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just two people going somewhere.His eyes never stopped moving. Scanning faces. Watching cars. Looking for anything that didn't fit.10:57 PM.The streets were quieter than Marcus expected. Late Monday night. Most people home. Just scattered pedestrians. A few cars.Good for avoiding

Marcus ran.Torres was beside him. Both of them moving fast. Low. Using parked cars and building corners for cover.The alley had spit them out two blocks south of Willis Tower. Residential street. Quiet. No immediate threats.But the sirens were getting louder. Multiple units converging on the tower. Police. Maybe federal agents.They needed to get away. Fast.Marcus kept moving. His lungs burning. His legs protesting. Too old for this. Too tired.But he pushed through. Always pushed through."Where are we going?" Torres gasped. Running beside him."Away. Just away."They turned left. Down another street. Darker here. Fewer streetlights. Fewer witnesses.Marcus slowed to a walk. Running drew attention. Walking looked normal. Two guys out late. Nothing suspicious.His heart was hammering. Adrenaline still flooding his system. His hands wanted to shake but he wouldn't let them.Focus. Stay focused."Did you see Sarah?" Torres asked. "Did she make it out?""Don't know. Lost sight of her

Dawn was breaking over Lake Michigan.Marcus watched the sky lighten. Orange and pink spreading across the horizon. The water reflecting the colors. Beautiful in a way that felt wrong given everything that had happened.Sarah sat beside him on the bench. Torres on his other side. All three of them silent. Just watching the sunrise.Alive. Against all odds.Marcus broke the silence first. "Park?"Sarah shook her head. "Don't know. We split up during the ambush. I sent her down an alley. Told her to run. Haven't heard from her since.""You sent her alone?""Didn't have a choice. We were pinned down. Someone needed to survive. To tell people what happened." Sarah's voice was flat. Controlled. But Marcus heard the guilt underneath. "I made a tactical decision.""I'm not criticizing. You did the right thing.""Did I? Because I don't know if she's alive or dead. Don't know if sending her alone got her killed."Marcus understood. He'd made similar calls. Sent people into danger. Sometimes th

They shoved Marcus into the SUV. Rough. Professional. The kind of handling that said they'd done this before.Sarah went in next. Then Torres. All three of them squeezed into the back row. The two armed men flanking them. Weapons out. Ready.Devereaux sat in the middle row. Turned to face them. Relaxed. Like this was a business meeting instead of a kidnapping.The driver pulled away from the curb. Smooth. Unhurried. Just another vehicle in Chicago traffic.Marcus studied Devereaux. First time seeing him in person. Photos hadn't done him justice. The man had presence. Authority. The kind that came from decades of power."I have to admit," Devereaux said, "I'm impressed. You've been surprisingly resourceful. Most people in your position would have given up days ago. Or be dead."Marcus said nothing. Just watched. Waited."Dr. Zhao was the same way. Stubborn. Persistent. Refused to accept that some fights can't be won." Devereaux smiled. Cold. "She died badly, by the way. Took hours. Kep

Torres's pulse was weak under Sarah's fingers.She'd found it in his neck. Carotid artery. Thready. Fast. His body compensating for blood loss. Heart working overtime to keep pressure up. To keep oxygen flowing.Not good. But not dead. Not yet."Torres. Hey. Look at me." Sarah kept her voice calm. Controlled. The voice you used with wounded soldiers. Steady. Reassuring even when nothing was reassuring.Torres's eyes fluttered. Opened halfway. Unfocused. Glassy."Stay with me," Sarah said. "You're going to be okay. We've got you."She didn't know if that was true. Didn't know if he'd be okay. But you said it anyway. Because hope mattered. Because belief mattered. Because sometimes the will to survive was the only thing keeping someone alive.Marcus had the makeshift bandages ready. Strips torn from his shirt. Not sterile. Not proper medical supplies. But better than nothing."Lift," he said.Sarah lifted her hands. Just for a second. Just long enough for Marcus to wrap the fabric aroun