She approached the heavy oak doors of the cathedral, her structured brown handbag swaying slightly at her side. No one stopped her. No one dared. Vera didn\u2019t offer greetings or eye contact, though she noted everyone and everything. She always did.<\/p>\n
In the vaulted sanctuary, a man in a dark trench coat was waiting under the stained glass depiction of St. Gabriel. The colorful light filtering through the panes fell upon his face, highlighting the deep furrow in his brow. James Hadley leaned forward slightly in his chair when Vera entered.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re late,\u201d he muttered as she sat down across from him, her expression untroubled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t do late,\u201d she replied, her voice smooth, with just a touch of cool reproach. From her bag, she removed a folded envelope sealed with an elegant wax stamp. Sliding it across the old wooden table between them, she crossed her legs, leather creaking softly. \u201cIt\u2019s all there.\u201d<\/p>\n
James opened the envelope, his hands almost trembling, though his voice was level. \u201cAnd you\u2019re sure this will work?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt has to,\u201d Vera said, leaning back into the pew. \u201cThe Syndicate isn\u2019t known for forgiving mistakes. Either we do this cleanly, or we disappear for good.\u201d<\/p>\n
The envelope contained blueprints, coded sequences, and one photograph. James held the photo up, his jaw tightening. It was a faded picture of a girl\u2014no more than twelve\u2014in an oversized wool sweater, gazing up from a book with wide, curious eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s our key,\u201d Vera said, watching him closely.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s a child,\u201d James protested.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot anymore,\u201d Vera countered, her gaze steely. \u201cShe\u2019s grown now. And if we don\u2019t find her, they\u2019ll find us. Besides, she\u2019s not as innocent as you\u2019re imagining. The girl is dangerous. She may not even want to be saved.\u201d<\/p>\n
James stared at the picture in silence, a muscle flickering in his jaw. He had questions\u2014countless questions\u2014but Vera wasn\u2019t the type to offer answers freely. Not when time was ticking down for both of them. Vera rose, her coat billowing slightly as she moved toward the cathedral door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d James called after her.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo find her,\u201d she said curtly. \u201cMeet me at the rendezvous point at midnight. And, James?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked up from the table, sensing the weight of her next words. \u201cDon\u2019t make me regret involving you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Back in the city streets, Vera blended with the crowd once more. Her pulse was steady, her bearing unshaken, but inside her mind was a storm. She replayed the warnings, the plans, the risks. She thought of James\u2014the way his hands shook slightly as he held the photograph\u2014and wondered if he was really up for the task.<\/p>\n
And then she thought of the girl. The face was burned into Vera\u2019s memory. The way the child had smiled all those years ago, burying a shard of glass in the rib cage of her handler. Dangerous wasn\u2019t a strong enough word.<\/p>\n
Pulling her coat tighter around herself, Vera turned a corner, her eyes scanning every shadow. The Syndicate wanted their pawn back, but what no one seemed to realize was that pawns could become queens. That\u2019s exactly what Vera was counting on.<\/p>\n
Midnight couldn\u2019t come soon enough.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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