I approach the poison expert’s lifeless body to close his eyes.
I’ve closed too many eyes in a single day.
"We were being watched."
"How long, you think?"
"No idea—but probably a while."
"Graves preferred to die rather than betray that person."
Alexander says nothing. He seems bothered by the man’s death since he wasn’t able to give us any intel.
I break the silence:
"Maybe we underestimated the enemy."
"That sniper could’ve killed us after Graves—or even before. He had a perfect angle, and he didn’t. His goal isn’t to get rid of us. Not yet."
Even better.
"What do we do now?"
"My men will have more cleanup than expected. We’ll make it look like a car accident. They’ll put his body in a crate and burn it—no one will recognize him or know he was murdered."
Alexander is lost in
