In the hideout, silence was deafening. Each member of the team was burdened by the knowledge of Lena’s treachery, though there was no time to ruminate. James recognized that hesitation would mean death, and they had lingered too long on the defense.
And now, it was time to turn the tide.
Lena leaned back against the cold brick wall with her hands tied at the front of her. One overhead bulb threw sharp shadows across her face, aging her on camera into a woman who already looked worn. She was with them for years, bled with them, but all long, she was working with the Syndicate.
James paced before her, the tension in his jaw noticeable. “Lena, tell me how deep are your ties to them?”
Lena smiled, some with the situation. “Deep enough to know they don’t ever lose.”
From the corner, Marcus
