Friday Night. 8:15 PM.
The candle flickered in the center of the table, drowning in a pool of melted wax.
Sarah Vance sat alone at Le Claire. It was the kind of restaurant where the menus didn't have prices and the waiters whispered like they were sharing state secrets.
She checked her watch. Again.
Two empty wine glasses sat before her. The bread basket was untouched.
"Madame?" the waiter hovered, his pity barely concealed behind a starch-stiff napkin. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"
"No," Sarah said, her voice tight. "He's coming. He's just... stuck in traffic."
She gripped her phone under the table.
She had made a choice. At 6:00 PM, she had handed the tactical command of the Gallery Raid to Agent Miller. She had chosen her marriage over the job. She had u
