Page 28 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"I'm moving to intercept." I glide through the crowd, ducking and slipping between bodies. My focus locks onto the man—the potential Echo—but I'm acutely aware of Vanessa's movements at his side.
Cole's voice turns sharp in my ear. "The digital footprint has just vanished completely. No trace in the system."
"Both targets moving toward the east exit." I calculate the most direct path to their position.
The darkening environment creates new challenges, faces become shadowed, movement patterns less defined. Bodies press closer as the crowd funnels toward the main hall.
I adjust my approach angle, using height advantage to track them through the sea of heads.
"I've got eyes on the east exit," Jax reports. "Want me to cut them off?"
"Negative. I've got this."
A group of executives in matching company polo shirts blocks my path. I pivot around them, recalculating approach vectors.Three seconds delayed. Acceptable margin.
They're thirty feet ahead, moving with purpose but not rushing. Smart. Rushing draws attention.
But there's something else. The way they walk through the crowd, frequently moving into my blind spots. Like he knows exactly where I am without looking back.
Professional. This guy knows surveillance.
"West exit secure," Jax confirms.
The crowd thickens unexpectedly as a presentation releases its attendees directly into my path. Bodies press closer, creating a human barrier. I adjust course, sliding between conversations.
When I clear the obstruction, they're gone. Both of them.
"Fuck." The curse slips past my normally controlled vocabulary.
"What happened?" Cole demands.
I scan systematically, eliminating blind spots. "Lost visual. Both targets. Last position near the quantum computing display."
"The sniper who never misses... missed?" Jax's voice carries genuine surprise beneath the teasing. "Must be losing your touch, Frost. Or maybe getting distracted by pink hair."
The comment strikes closer to truth than I care to admit. I ignore him, moving with controlled urgency to their last known position. The space they occupied moments before now holds only empty air and the faint scent of coconut and vanilla.
Her scent.
Something catches my eye on the display table exactly where they stood. I approach casually, maintaining cover while reaching for what appears to be a USB drive.
Small, black, deliberately placed.
"Found something." I lift it between two fingers without touching areas that might hold fingerprints.
"Don't plug that in," Cole warns immediately. "Could be anything from malware to a tracking beacon."
"I know protocol." I try to keep annoyance from my voice as I secure the drive in an electromagnetic-shielded pocket.
"Bringing it in for analysis?" Jax asks.
Before I can answer, my phone vibrates once. Unknown number.
The message reads:Better luck next time, Frost. Some ghosts don't want to be caught. -E
My pulse quickens. They know my callsign. In addition to my real name.
"Blade, trace this number. Now." I forward the message directly to his system.
