Page 265 of Silent Target

I reached inside my coat and wrapped my fingers around my weapon.

The car pulled away from the curb and passed the garage without slowing.

I watched it disappear around the corner.

“Subtle,” I murmured.

But the driver hadn’t wanted to remain hidden.

He’d wanted me to know I was being watched.

That made him either careless or confident.

Careless men made mistakes.

Confident men believed they could survive them.

I entered the parking garage and took the stairs instead of the elevator. On the second level, I paused behind the door and listened.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Measured.

Someone was already inside.

I drew my weapon and eased the door open.

A man in a navy suit stood beside my SUV.

Fifty years old. Graying hair. Expensive shoes. No visible weapon.

He turned as the door moved.

“Agent Collins.”

My gun remained at my side, hidden by the doorframe. “You’re standing beside the wrong vehicle.”

“I don’t think I am.”

I studied him.

His hands were visible, but the right one was too stiff. He was forcing it to remain open, which meant he was accustomed to carrying something in it.

A weapon.

A badge.

Maybe both.

“Identify yourself.”

“Deputy Director Edmund Vale.”

The name struck harder than it should have.

Vale had once held one of the most powerful counterterrorism positions in the country. Officially, he’d retired two years ago after developing a heart condition.