Cade must have tripped the alarm on his way out, because Ken was in her apartment before she could bleed to death. He took her to the closest hospital just in time. Unfortunately, it was not the Company-controlled clinic. Her black ops status was useless when dealing with bureaucracy. She spent six hours stuck behind a curtain as gunshot wounds, drug ODs and heart attacks were treated all around her.

Around three in the morning, the cops showed up at the ER to question her about her possible “suicide attempt.” Her badge was finally useful; she was able to flash it at the officers and get released.

Ken took her home, then back to the office. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Cade was still alive. Which meant she was fucked. Konrad would never give her the Elixir now, would never trust her to deal with Cade again.

Her phone kept ringing. Ken finally answered it.

“Reyes,” he said, after he’d hung up. “Says he’s got some good news for us.”

“Isn’t that fucking peachy.”

Ken shut up after that.

A few minutes later, Reyes entered the office. He looked at the gauze on her neck, but knew better than to say anything.

“Well?” she asked.

“We have the kid,” he said.

Helen’s jaw unclenched. Maybe the painkillers were working after all. Things were looking up.

He’d fallen asleep, facedown on the wood, like a freshman pulling his first all-nighter.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully.

He sat up quickly, blinking. He looked at the bandage around her throat. “You must have had a fun night.”

Helen smiled even wider. “Nothing compared to the fun we’re going to have today. Coffee?” she asked. She had two cups in her hand from the kitchen on the second floor.

She put the cup in his shackled hands. He had just enough play in the chain to bring it to his lips. Then stopped. He looked at her, and set the cup down.

“No, thanks,” he said.

So. Not as dumb as he looked. Or as any of his actions up to this point would indicate.

Helen sat down at the table and sipped, taking her time.

“Don’t I get a phone call?” he asked.

“Zach,” she said, a scolding tone in her voice. “You’re not under arrest. In fact, you’re not even here. You don’t exist.”

She leaned back, let that sink in. “And if you don’t exist . . . well, who would you call? You can see the problem.”

Zach glared. “You can’t do that.”

“Oh, poor baby. We already did. You’re an enemy combatant, Zach. None of the rules apply to you.”

“I work for the President of the United States—”

“That was back when you existed.”

Zach closed his mouth and glared at her.

“Where’s Cade?”

He shrugged. “How the hell should I know? I don’t exist.”

“You are adorable. I have such fun talking to you.”

“Yeah, me too. Shame you tried to kill me.”

“The bomb? You’re taking that way too seriously.”

“I’m funny that way.”

“You’ve been keeping bad company. If you weren’t hanging out with Cade, you never would have been in danger. I told you, you’re on the wrong side.”

“Oh, I see. You tried to blow me up for my own good.”

“You’re safe now.”

Zach looked down at his cuffed hands, then at the locked steel door. “Yeah. I feel safe.”

“Don’t call me a liar, Zach,” Helen said, her voice flat. “There’s nothing to stop me from putting your brains all over that wall. You’re safe as long as I say.”

Zach stared at her like he was trying to see the inside of her head. “Who are you people anyway?”

“We keep everyone safe. That’s all you need to know. But in order to do that, we need you to tell us where to find Cade. We need your help. I need your help, Zach.”

Zach shrugged. He was breaking down. She could feel it.

He reached for the coffee. Brought it up to his lips.

Helen smiled.

He threw the cup at her, aiming for her eyes.

She was faster, of course. She was out of her chair as soon as he twitched, and, anyway, the coffee had cooled. All Zach managed to do was splash her suit jacket.

Her brand-new suit jacket.

Her pretty face twisted into a feral snarl. “You little shit,” she hissed. She reached for her pistol, drew it back, ready to beat him across the face with it.

Then she froze. Remembered the cameras in the ceiling. Thought about Control, how he could be watching, even now. She tamped down her rage and considered her options.

Zach, still alive, and still a threat if he got back to D.C. And even more of a threat if someone higher up came to question him. She couldn’t let him go, couldn’t keep him.

Cade. Still out there. Konrad would never meet his end of the deal if he found out. And he would find out eventually, because Cade was a fucking mad dog, he just wouldn’t stop. He’d be back on Konrad by nightfall, if he wasn’t at the doctor’s house already.

The very existence of Zach in this room, the continued survival of Cade out in the world, they were evidence of her betrayal of the Company. She couldn’t let them live. But she couldn’t kill Zach, not without bringing down the wrath of both the Company and the White House. And without the Shadow Company’s resources, she had no hope in hell of destroying Cade.

Then there was Reyes and Ken, and they knew everything she’d been doing. Control would find out she’d triggered the bomb at the safe house, despite his orders.

Too many loose ends; the slightest tug on any of them, and everything would unravel. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be immortal by now.

Instead, she was trapped.

Then it came to her: she had the solution, right here, in this building. A way to tie it off, staunch the bleeding long enough to get her reward. It would work. It had to work.

Abruptly, she holstered her pistol again, and left the room.

She found Reyes and Ken still sitting in her office.

She snapped her fingers at Reyes. “You got his phone.”

He nodded. She waited half a second, then snapped again. “Well, give it to me.”

He fumbled it out of his jacket, handed it over.

“Get out,” she told them.

Ken hesitated. “What are you going to do?”

She began dialing. “I’m finishing this.”