knee, ignoring the freezing mu

wisting the barrel of the telephoto

ewfinder, the

looking utterly bored and

the shutter button. Th

wing in subservience, was Kameron Rasmu

just a political broker; his capital firm was the shadow

ya shivered violently. The cold seeped into her bon

noring the pain, and kept

contract from his jacket and handed it to Archer.

e document. She need

rcher stopp

his head, his dark eyes scanning the desolat

could feel her

pressing her back against the massive, mu

rt pounding a frantic, dange

chinery, but his eyes locked onto a small fl

ed the cut

is intel network had failed. They should have warned him the mo

ager, who was sweating pr

her demanded, pointing a lon

ust a reporter from BCF, Mr. Garcia. They sen

eeder applied to Alya made a muscl

nd, and knew Alya was out there, sick and fr

e, pick her up, and burn the en

any weakness, any connection to Alya, the

ace into a mask of

s voice carrying over the wind. "It's a disgrace. If tha

nicked. "Mr. Garc

ld a heated media pavilion. Right now. Get her out

ted screaming or

heard the commotion. She pe

g toward her, carrying a portable indust

to the trailer!" one

dry, heated portable office, wrapping her f

ut the plexi

ng by his Maybach. He was looking d

ld feel the crushing weight of his stare. It was

g to be intimidated. She look

he contract wa

s fists, turned around, and got into his c

r phone and uploaded the encryp

it was time to go back