Chapter 6: The Breach at Dawn
The metallic scrape of steel clearing leather was drowned out by the shatter of glass as the kitchen window exploded inward. A dark-clad figure dropped through the frame, boots hitting the tile with muffled precision. Before Beatrice could pivot her pistol toward the new threat, a heavy zip-tie cuff snapped around her wrists, pinning her arms against the cream satin robe.
Another operative followed instantly, subduing Julian before he could even draw a breath. Julian slumped against the refrigerator, his dark blue pajamas stained with condensation from the open window.
"Clear!" shouted the second operative, a lean woman with close-cropped hair and an agency tactical vest over a black sweater. She turned her sharp gaze toward Elinor. "Evelyn. Stand back from the counter."
Elinor lowered the santoku blade, letting it clatter against the granite countertop. Her breathing was heavy, the adrenaline finally catching up to her, making her hands shake as she pressed them against her thighs. She looked at Beatrice, who was already recovering her composure, her face settling back into a mask of cold bureaucratic disdain despite the plastic cuffs biting into her wrists.
"You're late, Miller," Elinor said, her voice steadying as she looked past the tactical team toward the shattered window.
Miller stepped through the frame last, ducking his head to clear the glass shards. He looked older than his voice on the vintage phone suggested—graying at the temples, wearing a worn trench coat over a suit that had seen better days. He looked at Beatrice with a mixture of professional disgust and weary familiarity.
"Traffic in Bethesda was murder," Miller said dryly, walking over to retrieve the black vintage phone from the counter. He slipped it into his coat pocket. "Nice haircut, Evelyn. The shaved sides really bring out the scar."
"Cut the comedy," Elinor said, stepping away from the island. "Beatrice didn't act alone. There’s a cell inside the internal review board clearing these extractions for three years. Julian was just their leverage, but the signature clones came from the Director's office."
May you like
Beatrice chuckled softly, a dry, papery sound. "You think arresting me stops the gear from turning, Evelyn? The roster is already out. By sunrise, half our assets in Eastern Europe will be burnt toast. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube."
"We don't need to put it back," Miller said, walking up to Beatrice and leaning in close. "We just need to make sure the people who opened the tube are standing at the front of the firing squad when the inspection starts."
