The metallic rattle of the smart lock was a countdown to a potential execution. Elea felt the sound vibrate in her very marrow, a sharp contrast to the silent, dust motes dancing in the morning light of the study. She had less than five seconds before the heavy oak door swung inward, and in those five seconds, the distance between a loving fiancee and a dead infiltrator was measured by the millimeter of a stone tile.
Her fingers worked with a frantic, cold precision. She shoved the leather folder containing the multiple identities of Kai into the steel-lined void, the edges of the passports catching momentarily on the rim. She didn't have time to be gentle. She slammed the stone tile back into place, her palms pressing down with all her body weight to seat it within the grout lines. The
