"That's the situation." Kade, steady. "Vanessa. Digital."
The typing stops. "Okay so here's the thing, I've been trying to trace her for seventy-two hours and every single thread I pull is already cut. Hotel registration from last month? Deleted. Pharmacy records from Tuesday? Corrupted. Traffic cam footage near the courthouse?" Keys clatter. "Gone. Within the hour. Every. Time."
Outside, a delivery truck rumbles past. I track it until it turns the corner.
"Someone's scrubbing her trail." Kade.
"Someone with access. And resources." More typing. "The scrubbing started about six weeks ago. Right when she switched to the countdown pattern."
Angelina sets down her coffee. Carefully, deliberately. The tension sits in her jaw now, in the set of her shoulders.
"She has a handler." Kade. "Vanessa, play the Sasha recording."
A click. Audio, compressed and distant.
Mira's voice first:"Your sources have anything on Lockwood's location?"
Then Sasha, his accent softened by years in the West:"Nothing. And that concerns my employer."
"Your employer is concerned about a lot of things."
"My employer appreciates stable systems."A pause."A pharmaceutical assassin with invisible backing destabilizes systems. We looked. Thoroughly. Whoever is protecting her has resources that rival ours. The methodology reminds me of Kazakov's work—the patience, the layered protections. But this is not him directly. Someone trained by him, perhaps. Or using his playbook."
The recording ends.
Angelina's hand has moved to her throat. She catches herself, forces it back to her lap.
"Two separate intelligence operations." Kade lets that settle. "Both hitting the same wall."
Angelina turns a page in her legal brief. She has not read a single word.
"We're not going to find her by looking." Kade shifts, voice dropping into mission-mode. "So we let her come to us. This only works if Victoria sees what she expects. One bodyguard. Normal routine. She has to believe she has an opening."
One bodyguard.
The words settle in my chest like a stone.
I have been carrying them for two days. Since Kade first laid out the plan. Since I agreed to it because there was no better option.
One bodyguard. One variable between Victoria and fourteen judges worth of practice.
"Cole?" Kade's voice. "You copy?"
My jaw is tight. I force myself to breathe.
"I copy."
"Stay sharp. We'll check in at noon. Kade out."
The channel drops to operational quiet—breathing, ambient noise, the low hum of a team holding position.
I stare at the window—the empty street, the morning light that makes everything look safe.
"Cole."
Angelina's voice. Soft, but watchful.
I do not look at her.