Page 146 of Silent Target

Boots sound beyond the doorway.

Not rushing.

Marching.

The remaining Inner Guard is coming.

Rook surveys the shelves.

One exit.

Narrow aisles.

Thousands of irreplaceable records surrounding us.

“No explosives,” he tells Cobra.

Cobra looks genuinely pained. “I know.”

“Fathom, take what you can.”

“I need two minutes.”

“You have one.”

A small object bounces through the doorway.

“Flashbang!” I shout.

White light consumes the archive.

The detonation strikes my ears like a hammer.

I reach for Evie in the blindness.

My hand closes around hers.

Gunfire follows.

Books explode from the shelves. Paper fills the air like snow.

I pull Evie behind the heavy desk as rounds tear through the aisle.

Across the room, a figure moves through the swirling pages.

Silver hair.

Charcoal suit.

Walter Graves.

He raises a pistol.

Not at me.

At Evie.

I move before he fires.