Page 139 of Silent Target

Caleb’s hand closes around my wrist.

“Wait.”

He points toward a small camera hidden inside an overhead fixture.

“They’re watching.”

Rook looks directly into the lens.

“Good.”

He removes his helmet.

“Tell Walter Graves we’re done chasing him.”

The camera silently tracks his face.

“We’re coming to him.”

Cobra smiles and raises one finger toward the lens.

Rook catches his hand before he can complete the gesture.

“Professionalism.”

“I was being professional.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Cobra lowers his hand.

“Worth a try.”

Even Falcon smiles, although the color has drained from his face.

Shark guides him to an old wooden chair near the entrance.

“You stay here.”

“I can still walk.”

“You’re guarding our exit.”

Falcon understands the lie for what it is.

He nods anyway.

Fathom enters the archive and turns slowly.

“My God.”

Mac remains in the doorway.

He doesn’t move.

His chest rises and falls too quickly.

“You’ve been here,” Caleb says.