Page 124 of Fractured Allegiance
I slide into the car and kill the music before it starts. I don’t need a beat to match the rhythm in my chest. It’s already off-tempo.
Drazen’s hand was still on my shoulder when I left. Figuratively. That kind of touch lingers. Like blood under your fingernails.
I grip the wheel tighter.
I should be heading to the Bureau post. Naomi's waiting for that debrief—waiting for us to figure out who's tailing me and why.
But I can't go there now.
Not after what I just saw.
Those files on Drazen's table weren't street intel. They were Bureau files. Case IDs, surveillance tags, operational summaries. The kind of information that only comes from inside.
Which means there's a leak.
But here's what doesn't add up: if Drazen had full access to someone inside the Bureau, he'd already know exactly who I am. He wouldn't need to test me or ask me to find out who's watching him—he'd just have me disappeared.
So either:
The leak is limited—someone selling files piecemeal without full operational access
Or Drazen doesn't fully trust his source and is using me to verify the information
Or he knows more than he's letting on and this whole meeting was another test
None of those options are good.
I pull over two blocks from the club and grab my phone.
Text Naomi on the encrypted line.
Can't come in. Drazen showed me Bureau case files. Someone's leaking intel to him. Don't know how deep it goes. Meeting in person is too risky until you run internal audit.
I stare at the message, then hit send.
Her response comes fast.
How much does he have?
Hard to say. Case files, surveillance protocols. But if the leak had full access, I'd already be burned. It's either limited intel or he's testing his source.
Three dots. Then: Stay dark. No meetings, no reports until I identify the breach. Do your job, stay in character. I'll handle this end.
Understood.
And Silas—assume everything is compromised until I tell you otherwise.
I click delete before I pocket the phone.
So that's it. I'm operating blind until Naomi figures out who's dirty. No backup. No check-ins. Just me walking the edge between Drazen's suspicion and Bureau protocols.
I should go back to my apartment. Lie low. Let Naomi work.
But I don't.
I drive.
No destination. Just momentum.
