“Imani, get me an outside line.”
She dialed ten digits she had never written down.
She had memorized them in a dark room four years ago and promised herself she would never use them.
It rang twice.
“Section Nine,” said a flat voice.
“This is Kite. I have two children from the program. Hostile contact at Admiral Prescott Naval. Two subjects detained. Mother is down near Harlan Bridge. I need a unit, a medic, and a clean extraction.”
A long pause.
“Say again your call sign.”
“Kite.”
“Stand by.”
Behind her, the room had gone dead silent.
Dr. Greiss stood against the wall.
His coat was dusted white.
His mouth hung open.
“Kite?” Dr. Brandt whispered. “What does that mean?”
Lauren set down the receiver and faced them.
“My name is Special Agent Lauren Pierce,” she said. “Diplomatic Security Service, Protective Operations, nine years. I was assigned to this family when the father was killed. I walked away four years ago. I never walked away from them.”
