“Operational security isn’t negotiable,” Damon said. Specter gave a silent nod.
“You hear this?” Mattie huffed. Then her tone shifted. “Anyway, we have news. SENTINEL’s systems are back up and clean, but there’s something weird in the—”
“Not on an open line,” Damon cut in, sharp.
“Oh, for God’s sake, we’re on burner phones in a park,” Mattie said. “If someone’s close enough to hear, they can just shoot us and save the trouble.”
“That’s not helpful,” I said.
“Your location,” Specter asked, “is it secure?”
“Mr. Sunshine here has swept the area three times,” Mattie said. “We’re good. But you need to know—”
“Details,” Specter said, leaning in. His eyes stayed on the ruins. His attention locked on the call. “Everything.”
“SENTINEL got hit,” Mattie said. “But Damon figured out the breach went both ways.”
“Not by design,” Damon added. “Their intrusion created a temporary bridge. I used it.”
“What did you get?” I asked.
“Oblivion’s network is compartmentalized,” Damon said, all business. “I didn’t have long before the connection dropped. I went for two things: the attack on SENTINEL and anything on Specter.”
“Smart,” Specter said.
“There’s something you both need to hear,” Mattie said, keyed down now. “Damon found a reference to a former Oblivion handler operating in Prague. Went rogue around the same time Specter did.”
I watched him. His face stayed still, but something shifted in his eyes. Recognition, or an old fear waking.
“This handler may be tied to you,” Damon said. “I couldn’t pull complete files, but one name kept coming up. Kruger.”
Specter changed. It was minimal and total. He went very still. Even his breathing paused. Then a small, hard shake of his head. He didn’t speak.
“Kruger?” I asked, still watching him. “That means something to you?”
He started to answer. Then his focus slid past the phone. I tracked his line of sight. Far end of the street. A man in a gray coat stood by a van, looking down at his phone.
“Anything else about this handler?” I asked, keeping us talking while Specter’s attention split cleanly.
“Nothing solid,” Damon said. “A former Oblivion asset in Prague could be an opportunity. Someone with inside knowledge who broke conditioning. If he’s alive and in the city. If he treats Prague like his playground, it’s easier to hide.”
“Or bait,” Mattie said.
“Fifty-fifty,” Damon said. “Either way, be—”
“We need to go,” Specter said, calm and firm. “Something came up. We’ll call back.” He ended the call and slid the phone into my pocket in one smooth move.
“Don’t look at him,” he said, barely moving his mouth. “Gray coat by the van. When I walk, count to twenty. Then follow. Not too close.”
“Who is he?” I whispered, holding my jaw still so I wouldn’t turn.
“I don’t know yet.” The patience in his voice raised the hair on my neck.
He adjusted his scarf like a man tired of the cold. Nothing in his body gave away the shift I felt. He patted my arm, casual to anyone watching.
“If I engage, you walk. Don’t argue.” He cut off my protest. “Find cameras. People.”
Then he moved. A bored tourist who’d found his destination closed. Shoulders a little hunched. No rush.