Chapter 8 - Kestrel
Nobody moved.
That was the first rule when somebody else controlled the terrain.
Don't give them the reaction they're expecting.
Hale's voice echoed between the abandoned buildings.
"Twelve years is a long time."
Mercer looked toward me.
I raised one finger.
Wait.
"Claire?"
Hale sounded almost amused.
"You remember me."
I pressed the transmitter.
"I remember better men."
Silence.
Then laughter.
"Still sharp."
"Still hiding."
"You came to me."
"No. I came for answers."
"Same thing."
Mercer's tactical teams began moving quietly around the perimeter.
Hale couldn't see everything.
Nobody could.
That was his mistake.
He thought controlling the lights meant controlling the field.
The loudspeaker clicked again.
"Ruiz came for answers too."
My jaw tightened.
"What did you do to him?"
"Nothing."
"He's dead."
"Yes."
"Convenient."
"Truth rarely is."
Then Adrian Cole appeared in the doorway.
Hands raised.
Alone.
"Don't shoot!"
He walked toward us.
Mercer ordered him to stop.
Cole did.
"Hale isn't alone," he shouted.
"How many?"
"Eight, maybe ten."
"Armed?"
"Yes."
"Why should we believe you?"
Cole looked toward me.
"Because Ruiz discovered Hale wasn't killing your team."
That stopped me.
"What?"
"Hale was protecting them."
I almost laughed.
"Try again."
"Someone else wants all of you dead."
Before he could continue, a shot cracked through the darkness.
Cole dropped.
Teams moved.
Lights shattered.
Everything became noise and darkness.
I reached Cole.
The round had struck his shoulder.
He grabbed my sleeve.
"Whitmore."
"What?"
"Whitmore isn't accidental."
"Grant?"
Cole shook his head.
"Not Grant."
His eyes widened.
"Logan."
My blood went cold.
"What about Logan?"
"Hale didn't move next door to you."
May you like
Cole struggled to breathe.
"He moved you next door to Logan."
