Page 29 of Hunt Me
Smart girl.
But not smart enough to disappear completely.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, antsy without a keyboard under my hands. This waiting game isn’t my style. I prefer instant gratification, instant access, instant control.
Physical surveillance is Dmitri’s territory. Or Erik’s. They have the patience for stakeouts and tailing marks through the city.
I have servers, satellites, and code that do the watching for me.
Except Iris has burned all of that.
A jogger passes. Then a woman is walking two dogs. The neighborhood’s quiet for a Saturday afternoon—upscale enough to afford security cameras, which I’ve already looped. No one will notice my car sitting here.
My phone vibrates. Nikolai.
Where the fuck are you?
I ignore it. He wants me at a meeting about expanding our crypto operations. Boring. Predictable.
This is so much better.
Movement catches my eye. The building’s front door opens.
My pulse kicks up.
But it’s just some college kid with a skateboard. He heads east, oblivious.
I settle back, watching Iris’s windows. The curtains haven’t moved. No shadows, no light changes.
She could be sleeping. Or coding. Or planning her next move against our systems.
Or she could be as wired as I am, knowing I won’t let this go.
The thought makes me grin.
She’s probably running scenarios right now—All that brilliant paranoia focused on me.
It’s intoxicating.
Another twenty minutes crawl by. Students drift past. A delivery truck blocks my view for three agonizing minutes before moving on.
Still nothing from 4 B.
My leg bounces. I need to move, to do something. Sitting here feels wrong, passive.
Then the front door opens again.
And there she is.
Iris Mitchell steps onto the sidewalk, laptop bag slung over her shoulder.
My chance.
I slip out of the Tesla. She heads west, toward the café district. Quick steps, shoulders tight.
Already nervous.
Good.
