too.
They laid Davey to rest five days later, Harold on crutches and Jake’s mother with her left arm strapped across her chest. Liz sported a bald patch on the side of her head covered with a bandage. Beneath was the gash that would form a scar that would be with her the rest of her life.
The scar Jake bore—that Quinn bore—was invisible, but just as permanent.
PETRA AND MIKHAIL FOUND A MOTEL 6 OUTSIDE of Lowell, Massachusetts. Petra dragged herself to her room, then tried to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening. At 4:30 a.m. she gave up.
Kolya, like Luka, was dead.
She had known at the start of their mission that death was always a possibility. But she had expected any bullet would have hit her, not one of her team members. But twice now, it had happened. At least, unlike with Luka, she wouldn’t have to tell Kolya’s family. They had all died when he’d been just a child. It was why Kolya had joined the search for the Ghost in the first place. If he had any family at all, she and Mikhail and the others in their group were it.
She tried to push him from her mind, but what filled the void was just as devastating. All of them, every person on her list, was dead. Chang, McKitrick, Thomas, Winters, the others before them. And now Moody.
His death was the hardest to take. They had found him alive. They had even talked to him. He knew people in the photograph. But the final step, identifying the two strikingly similar young men standing at opposite ends of the bar, had not been completed.
With Moody dead, the trail to the Ghost had disappeared. That was unless Stepka could pinpoint who the Ghost had hired to do the killings. If he failed, the Ghost would live up to his nickname and fade away. Forever lost, and forever unaccountable.
She knew she should wait for Stepka to get back to her, but doing so would make her crazy. She turned on her side and grabbed her phone.
“What?” Stepka said as he picked up.
“It’s Petra.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I want to know what you’ve learned.”
“I told you I’d call as soon as I had something,” he said.
“And when do you think that might be?”
“Twenty-four hours. Maybe forty-eight. Or it’s possible I won’t find out at all.”
“Twenty-four hours is too long,” she said, ignoring his other possibilities. “We can’t lose this opportunity. If you don’t figure out who’s been blocking our way, we’re done. We have no other options.”
“As I said before, I’m doing everything I can.”
“You must have something. At least a hint of information.”
Stepka remained silent for several seconds. “I’ve been able to narrow those potentially involved down to six groups.”
Petra straightened up. Six was a lot, but it was better than the dead end she was staring at.
“Who are they?”
“Petra, please. One more day and the information will be considerably more solid.”
“Mikhail and I are sitting here with nothing. No information. No idea where to go or who to talk to. If you don’t give me something, then the time we spend until you do will be completely wasted.”
“But what I have might be wrong. If so, your time would be wasted anyway.”
“But it’s a chance,” she said. “If you’re right, it may give us the edge we need. And if you’re wrong, we’re no worse off.”
There was a pause, then, “I don’t have individual names, yet. But there is a pattern.”
“What pattern?”
“Of the six potential groups, one operates out of Prague, and one out of Paris. But the other four all work out of London.”
She let the new information sink in. “And you’re sure it’s one of these groups?”
“I’m not sure about anything,” he said, irritated. “I told you I have nothing solid.”
“Thank you. This helps. Let me know as soon as you have something more.”
“It won’t be for a while, so go back to sleep.”
But she didn’t go back to sleep. Instead she called Mikhail in his room, waking him
They laid Davey to rest five days later, Harold on crutches and Jake’s mother with her left arm strapped across her chest. Liz sported a bald patch on the side of her head covered with a bandage. Beneath was the gash that would form a scar that would be with her the rest of her life.
The scar Jake bore—that Quinn bore—was invisible, but just as permanent.
PETRA AND MIKHAIL FOUND A MOTEL 6 OUTSIDE of Lowell, Massachusetts. Petra dragged herself to her room, then tried to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening. At 4:30 a.m. she gave up.
Kolya, like Luka, was dead.
She had known at the start of their mission that death was always a possibility. But she had expected any bullet would have hit her, not one of her team members. But twice now, it had happened. At least, unlike with Luka, she wouldn’t have to tell Kolya’s family. They had all died when he’d been just a child. It was why Kolya had joined the search for the Ghost in the first place. If he had any family at all, she and Mikhail and the others in their group were it.
She tried to push him from her mind, but what filled the void was just as devastating. All of them, every person on her list, was dead. Chang, McKitrick, Thomas, Winters, the others before them. And now Moody.
His death was the hardest to take. They had found him alive. They had even talked to him. He knew people in the photograph. But the final step, identifying the two strikingly similar young men standing at opposite ends of the bar, had not been completed.
With Moody dead, the trail to the Ghost had disappeared. That was unless Stepka could pinpoint who the Ghost had hired to do the killings. If he failed, the Ghost would live up to his nickname and fade away. Forever lost, and forever unaccountable.
She knew she should wait for Stepka to get back to her, but doing so would make her crazy. She turned on her side and grabbed her phone.
“What?” Stepka said as he picked up.
“It’s Petra.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I want to know what you’ve learned.”
“I told you I’d call as soon as I had something,” he said.
“And when do you think that might be?”
“Twenty-four hours. Maybe forty-eight. Or it’s possible I won’t find out at all.”
“Twenty-four hours is too long,” she said, ignoring his other possibilities. “We can’t lose this opportunity. If you don’t figure out who’s been blocking our way, we’re done. We have no other options.”
“As I said before, I’m doing everything I can.”
“You must have something. At least a hint of information.”
Stepka remained silent for several seconds. “I’ve been able to narrow those potentially involved down to six groups.”
Petra straightened up. Six was a lot, but it was better than the dead end she was staring at.
“Who are they?”
“Petra, please. One more day and the information will be considerably more solid.”
“Mikhail and I are sitting here with nothing. No information. No idea where to go or who to talk to. If you don’t give me something, then the time we spend until you do will be completely wasted.”
“But what I have might be wrong. If so, your time would be wasted anyway.”
“But it’s a chance,” she said. “If you’re right, it may give us the edge we need. And if you’re wrong, we’re no worse off.”
There was a pause, then, “I don’t have individual names, yet. But there is a pattern.”
“What pattern?”
“Of the six potential groups, one operates out of Prague, and one out of Paris. But the other four all work out of London.”
She let the new information sink in. “And you’re sure it’s one of these groups?”
“I’m not sure about anything,” he said, irritated. “I told you I have nothing solid.”
“Thank you. This helps. Let me know as soon as you have something more.”
“It won’t be for a while, so go back to sleep.”
But she didn’t go back to sleep. Instead she called Mikhail in his room, waking him
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