Page 448 of Broken Oath

Rain pounds the pavement outside.

My phone finds a signal.

The message sends.

I make it halfway to the parking garage before the lights behind me go out.

Not all of them.

Only the ones covering my path.

I reach inside my coat and close my hand around my pistol.

Then I start running.

Behind me, somewhere inside the dark halls of Langley, Walter Graves picks up a phone.

I don’t hear his order.

I don’t need to.

I already know what it is.

Find Agent Hart.

And make certain she never leaves Washington alive.

55

CALEB

I’ve been awake for three days.

Not because I can’t sleep.

Because every time I close my eyes, I see six flag-draped caskets—and right now, Shadow Division can’t afford for me to look away.

The cabin is dark except for the glow of Fathom’s computer screens and the dim light hanging above the kitchen table.

Outside, wind moves through the trees.

Inside, every man in the room is armed.

Rook stands near the window, watching the darkness beyond the glass. Sarah is asleep in the back bedroom, although I doubt she’s truly sleeping. She has the same habit the rest of us do now—resting with one ear open and a weapon close enough to reach.

Cobra leans against the kitchen counter, cleaning a pistol that was already spotless twenty minutes ago.

Fathom sits before three screens, his fingers moving rapidly over the keys.

I sit at the far end of the table.

Quiet.

Still.

Watching.

I learned a long time ago that silence makes most people uncomfortable. Give them enough of it, and they’ll fill it with information.