The highway stretched ahead of them, dark and endless.
Sarah drove with both hands on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road. Victoria sat in the passenger seat, the recorder in her jacket pocket, her hand resting on the pepper spray.
They hadn't spoken in an hour.
"You should sleep," Sarah said.
"I can't."
"You'll need your strength."
"I'll sleep when this is over."
Sarah glanced at her. "You remind me of Richard. He never slept either. He said sleep was wasted time."
"Maybe he was right."
"Maybe. But he's dead now." Sarah's voice was flat. "Sleep isn't wasted time. It's survival."
Victoria didn't answer. She stared out the window at the darkness.
---
They stopped for gas somewhere in Indiana.
Sarah pumped. Victoria watched the parking lot. A truck stop, bright lights, a few cars. No black sedans. No men in suits.
"We should switch drivers," Victoria said.
"I'm fine."
"You've been driving for six hours."
"I said I'm fine."
Victoria didn't argue. She walked inside the truck stop, bought coffee and granola bars, and came back out.
Sarah was standing by the car, her phone in her hand.
"We have a problem," Sarah said.
"What?"
"My bakery. Someone broke in. The alarm company called."
"Was anything taken?"
"Nothing. They trashed the place. Overturned tables. Smashed the display case. They were looking for something."
"The recorder."
"Or you." Sarah got back in the car. "They know I helped you. They know I'm gone."
"Then we need to get to D.C. faster."
Sarah started the engine. "Agreed."
---
They drove through the night, switching drivers at the Ohio border.
Victoria took the wheel. Sarah slept in the passenger seat, her head against the window, her face pale in the glow of the dashboard lights.
Victoria thought about Nathaniel. About his father. About the safe room in Georgetown. About the recording in her pocket.
She thought about Webb. About the men who had tried to grab her in Chicago. About the way the man had smiled, like he knew she couldn't escape.
She pressed the accelerator.
---
Dawn broke over the Appalachian Mountains.
Sarah woke up, stretched, and looked out the window.
"Where are we?"
"Western Pennsylvania. Three more hours."
Sarah pulled out her phone. No signal.
"We're in a dead zone," she said.
"Good. No one can track us."
"Or no one can help us."
Victoria didn't answer. She kept driving.
---
They reached the outskirts of D.C. at 9 AM.
Traffic was heavy. Commuters. Tourists. The city was waking up, oblivious to the war that was about to break out in its streets.
Victoria called Nathaniel.
"We're close," she said. "Where do you want us to meet?"
"Not my father's house. It's being watched."
"Then where?"
"There's a parking garage on 14th Street. Level 3. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Be careful."
"You too."
She hung up.
---
The parking garage was half-empty.
Victoria drove to Level 3 and parked in a corner, away from the other cars. Sarah sat beside her, her hands in her lap, her eyes scanning the entrances.
"Are you sure about this?" Sarah asked.
"No."
"Then why are we here?"
"Because we have nowhere else to go."
A black sedan pulled into the garage. Victoria's hand went to the pepper spray.
The sedan parked two rows away. The door opened.
Nathaniel stepped out.
Victoria exhaled. She got out of the car and walked toward him.
He met her halfway. His face was tired, his eyes red, but he was whole.
"You made it," he said.
"I made it."
"Did anyone follow you?"
"I don't think so."
"We can't be sure." He looked at Sarah, who had gotten out of the car and was standing by the door. "You're Sarah Chen."
"Yes."
"Nathaniel Cross. I worked with your brother."
"I know who you are." Sarah's voice was cold. "Richard told me about you. He said you were the only person at Meridian who didn't know about Webb."
"He was right."
"Then why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm the only person who can keep you alive."
Sarah stared at him for a long moment. Then she nodded.
"Where do we go?"
---
Nathaniel led them to a different car—a gray sedan, anonymous, clean.
"Get in," he said. "We're going to a safe house. One Webb doesn't know about."
"How can you be sure?" Victoria asked.
"Because it belongs to Catherine Webb. She's been hiding people from Marcus for years."
"Catherine?"
"She's not the woman Marcus married. She's the woman who survived him. There's a difference."
They drove to Georgetown, but not to Franklin's house. They stopped at a townhouse on a quiet street, brick, ivy, a black door.
Catherine opened it before they knocked.
"Inside. Quickly."
They filed into the living room. The curtains were drawn. The lights were low. A fire burned in the fireplace.
Olivia was there, sitting on the couch, her laptop open. She looked up when Victoria walked in.
"You got it," Olivia said.
Victoria pulled the recorder from her pocket and held it up.
"I got it."
---
They gathered around the coffee table.
Catherine poured coffee. Nathaniel stood by the window, watching the street. Sarah sat on the couch, her hands wrapped around a mug.
Victoria set the recorder on the table.
"Before we listen to this," she said, "we need to decide what we're going to do with it."
"Take it to the FBI," Nathaniel said.
"The FBI is compromised," Catherine said. "We need to go public. Leak it to the press."
"Then Webb runs."
"Then Webb is exposed. There's a difference."
Sarah spoke. "My brother didn't die so you could argue about strategy. He died because Webb is a monster. Play the recording. Then we decide."
Victoria looked at Nathaniel. He nodded.
She pressed play.
Marcus Webb's voice filled the room. Cold. Calm. Cruel.
"Richard was a liability. He had to go. You understand that, don't you, Vinson?"
Vinson's voice, softer: "I understand."
"Then make it look like a heart attack. No witnesses. No evidence. And when it's done, clean up the mess. His sister, too, if she becomes a problem."
"And the files?"
"Find them. Destroy them. And if anyone gets in your way..."
A pause.
"Kill them."
The recording ended.
Silence.
Victoria looked at Sarah. Sarah's face was white, her hands shaking.
"He killed him," Sarah whispered. "He killed my brother."
"Yes," Victoria said. "And now we're going to make him pay."