Page 170 of Fractured Allegiance

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They took her to find something.

The question is: what do they think she knows?

Unless...

Unless they think she has me. Or rather, the person leaking their operations, which they haven’t identified as me yet.

Maybe they think she knows who it is?

That would be enough.

That would be more than enough.

I curse under my breath and slam my palm against the wall. The hollow sound rattles down the vent shaft. I glare unforgivingly at the reflection in the mirror above the sink.

I sit down hard in the chair and close both fists in my lap.

That bastard Drazen put his hands on her.

He doesn’t get to walk away from that.

No one does.

A message buzzes through on my phone.

Unknown number. No name. Just a time: 17:00

No location.

That's deliberate.

Drazen never gives the full picture upfront. He sends the time first—lets you sit with it, lets the anticipation build—thendrops the location an hour before, sometimes thirty minutes. Just enough time to get there.

It's a control tactic. Keeps you off-balance.

I stare at the message.

17:00. Five o'clock this evening.

That's eleven hours from now.

Eleven hours to wonder what he knows. What he's planning. Whether Lydia will be there.

Whether this is about her at all.

Or whether it's about me.

I don't reply. He doesn't expect me to.

The location will come later.

It always does.

I shut down the screens.

Pocket the phone.

And pull open the side drawer where I left my knife. Its blade is still clean.

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