Page 152 of Fractured Allegiance
"The notes. The photo."
"Scare tactics from when the job was still active. Thought maybe I could push her to leave Drazen on her own, make things easier." He coughs again. "But then everything collapsed, and I was just... still here."
I stare down at him, processing.
"You said I'm too late. Too late for what?"
"Too late because there's nothing left to stop. The threat's gone. You're chasing ghosts." His eyes meet mine. "Just like me."
I release him slowly, step back.
He stays on the ground, breathing hard, bleeding.
I drag him by the collar.
Out.
Into the vehicle I parked in the alley.
—
Naomi meets me two hours later behind the floodlight checkpoint on Greenvale.
She doesn’t ask questions.
I toss the unconscious body into her custody.
“He’s yours,” I say. “Don’t let him crawl back out.”
Naomi doesn’t say a word at first. She just watches the two field agents drag Kellan’s unconscious body away like it’s not personal. Like it doesn’t mean something that we buried him once and had to do it again.
Her hands are in her coat pockets, but I know her left thumb is tracing the curve of her ring. The way it always does when she thinks a piece moved without her permission.
She doesn’t like being surprised.
And tonight, I surprised her.
“You didn’t kill him,” she says.
“I should’ve.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“I’m not.”
Naomi’s hands curl into fists, but she doesn’t argue. She steps closer, lowering her voice even though we’re the only ones left out here.
“He’ll be interrogated at one of ours,” she says. “The deep sites. South line. No record.”
“No leaks?”
“Not from me.”
I nod. That’s as much insurance as I’m going to get.
She holds out the key. Silver teeth, black grip. Heavy. Stamped with nothing.
“Here,” she says. “Redhook. Industrial Lofts. Top floor. Backstairs. Unlisted registry. No internal cams. No digital IDs. I scrubbed the lease myself.”
