Page 50 of Rogue Hope
The wail of sirens grew louder. Without discussion, they both pressed deeper into the shadows of a recessed doorway, bodies instinctively angling for maximum concealment.
They remained motionless as emergency vehicles screamed past the alley entrance, red and blue lights briefly illuminating the narrow passage before plunging it back into deepening twilight. In the momentary flash of light, Zara caught a glimpse of movement at the far end of the alley that disappeared too quickly to identify.
“Did you see that?” she whispered.
Finn nodded almost imperceptibly. “Been tracking three shadows since we left the building. Keeping their distance for now.”
The temperature was dropping rapidly as night approached, the desert heat giving way to a chill that seeped through her dust-coated clothing.
Finn scanned their surroundings. “If Vanguard set that device, they’re watching. Whatever that blue stuff was, it wasn’t meant to kill us outright. They want something from us.”
“Agreed.” She shivered—from cold, pain, or the realization of their predicament, she couldn’t tell. Like it mattered.
Finn reached into a pocket of his vest to produce a flattened energy bar. He broke it in half, offering her the larger portion without comment.
She accepted it gratefully. The sweetness against her dry, dust-coated tongue was almost shocking after the strange metallic taste that lingered from the explosion. She chewed slowly, savoring the simple sensation of something other than fear and pain.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she said after swallowing. “Why would Cipher want us cornered here? What does he gain by flushing us out this way?”
Finn finished his portion of the bar before answering, gingerly touching the fading bruise around his eye. “Could be he needs us incapacitated but functional. Alive for questioning or leverage.”
“That tracks more than elimination,” she agreed. “Everything he’s done so far has been precisely calculated. This blast was calibrated—disorienting but not deadly.”
Finn shifted position, wincing slightly—revealing that his seemingly unaffected posture was a facade. “The pattern is evolving, but the intent remains consistent. He wants what we know.”
Before she could respond, Finn’s phone vibrated. He extracted it carefully, angling the screen away from the alley entrance to minimize its telltale glow in the growing darkness. His expression hardened as he read whatever message had arrived.
“What is it?” Zara prompted, noting the new tension in his jaw.
“Source inside CIA administration,” he replied, voice low. “There’s an alert being distributed agency-wide. We’re being labeled hostile operators who accessed classified information regarding covert operatives embedded in the Sentinel network.”
“What?” The word escaped as barely more than a breath. “We haven’t?—”
“According to this, we did,” Finn interrupted grimly.
“Who’s your source? How reliable is this information?”
“Very reliable,” Finn answered, his defensiveness suggesting he had no intention of revealing his contact’s identity. “High enough clearance to see the alert before it goes wide.”
The implications crystallized with horrifying clarity. “Cipher,” she whispered. “He fed them false intelligence, made it look like we accessed those files.”
Finn nodded grimly. “And now he needs us alive but discredited. We’re the only ones who can contradict his narrative.”
“Which means ...” Zara felt the blood drain from her face as she completed the thought. “We’ll have arrest orders out from every government agency within hours. He’s isolating us.”
“Making us easy targets for whatever he’s planning next,” Finn agreed, a ghost of his old smile appearing briefly. “Nothing quite like being the object of a manhunt to limit your movement options.”
No kidding.
“We need to move,” Finn said after a moment, rising slowly from his crouched position. “Stay in the shadows, maintain distance from main streets. We’ll skirt the perimeter and make our way north. And watch for that blue dust—I suspect it might have tracking properties.”
Every movement generated fresh waves of pain, but she refused to show weakness. With the distant shouts of first responders following them, they slipped deeper into the labyrinth of back alleys, guided by Finn’s seemingly instinctive navigation and the rapidly appearing stars in the desert sky above.
She sent a silent question skyward as they walked, wondering what purpose her Savior could possibly have in placing her in this position again. The stars offered no immediate answer, their cold light merely illuminating the next shadowed step in their desperate flight.
26
“This is it?”
