Page 77 of Sanctuary

After Connor ended the call, silence filled the car, heavy with implications we both understood but neither wanted to voice. If Vance had Lily, every minute counted.

“We’ll find her,” he said firmly, reaching over to squeeze my knee. “Vance won’t hurt her until he knows you’re coming. That’s his leverage.”

“Unless he’s recording it,” I said quietly, voicing my darkest fear. “To make me watch later.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t dismiss the possibility. “Then we’ll need to be smarter, faster. Tell me everything you know about him—habits, methods, weaknesses.”

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think analytically, to access the operational knowledge that had kept me alive for years. “Vance is methodical. He plans everything to the last detail and always has multiple plans. Unlike Matheson, he’s hands-on—he won’t delegate the important parts.”

“That’s good,” he noted. “It means he’ll keep Lily close.”

“Yes, but he’s also patient. He can wait days for the perfect moment.” I swallowed hard. “And he’s creative. His background before the agency was medical—he knows exactly how much pain a body can endure before giving out.”

His expression darkened. “Any weaknesses?”

I thought carefully, sifting through what I knew about the man. “He’s arrogant. Believes he’s smarter than everyone else. And he has a flair for the theatrical—likes his scenarios to have symbolic meaning.”

“Symbolic how?”

“Location matters to him. When he eliminated a former operative in Montreal, he did it in the same cafe where she had first been recruited. For another in Halifax, he used the man’s family boat—something with personal significance.”

“So, he’ll choose somewhere meaningful for Lily,” Connor reasoned, his mind working through the implications. “Somewhere connected to her past, or to yours.”

The realization hit me like a physical blow. “The beach house,” I whispered. “Sunshine Bay. It’s where we lived with our mother before she died.”

Connor immediately changed lanes, heading for the highway on-ramp. “Call Winters. We need satellite surveillance on that location right now.”

As I made the call, providing coordinates and details to Winters, he pushed the car faster, eating up the miles between us and the airfield.

Chapter 36

Mia

The private jet was waiting as promised, its engines already running when we arrived. The pilot nodded curtly as we boarded, requiring no explanation or identification—clearly briefed by Winters.

As we settled into the leather seats, Connor pulled out his phone, studying a photo Winters had sent. “Is this him? Vance?”

I glanced at the screen, a chill running through me at the sight of the man I’d hoped never to see again. Gregory Vance looked unremarkable at first glance—average height, medium build, neatly trimmed brown hair. It was his eyes that revealed his true nature, dark and predatory.

The flight passed in tense silence, both of us lost in preparation and planning. I cleaned my weapons methodically, the familiar routine calming my racing thoughts. Connor studied satellite imagery of the beach house and surrounding area that Winters had sent to his tablet, identifying approach routes and potential sniper positions.

“The house is isolated,” he noted, showing me the images. “About half a mile from the nearest neighbor. Good cover from the trees on the north side but exposed on the beach side.”

I nodded, memories of the place, playing in the sand with Lily, our mother watching from the deck, her illness not yet visible in those early days.

“There’s a service road that leads to the back of the property,” I said, pointing it out. “And the house has a cellar accessed from outside—mom used it for storage, but it would make a perfect holding area.”

Connor studied my face. “You’re worried he’s got the place rigged.”

“It’s what I would do,” I admitted. “Vance is thorough. He’ll have surveillance, probably explosives on the access points.”

“Then we don’t use the access points,” Connor said simply. “We make our own.”

As we began our descent into Vancouver, Winters called with an update. “Thermal imaging picked up two heat signatures in the beach house—one stationary in what appears to be the basement area, one moving throughout the main floor.”

“Lily and Vance,” I confirmed, relief flooding through me that she was still alive, at least for now.

“Our team is holding position two miles from the property,” Winters continued. “Awaiting your arrival before moving in.

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