James trailed after Sarah through the tangle of alleys, urgency thrumming in his heart. They could still hear sirens and distant shouts, and of course the constant low hum of danger that trailed them like a ghost. They had no time to let up. Not when Karpov’s men were stalking them like prey.
Sarah brought him between two of the abandoned buildings the cobblestone between them wet and sloshing beneath his feet. James could tell from her posture, the tightness in her shoulders, that she was on the edge. She had been running just as much as he had, but there was something else something in her eyes that told him she had witnessed something, learned something, that had made all the difference.
They ended up halting behind a decayed brick wall, sheltered in the shadows. Sarah slapped a palm
