The vehicle at the top of the ramp does not move.
It sits at the entrance with its headlights cutting down into the parking structure, two beams of light in the underground dark, illuminating the ramp but not reaching us. Not surveillance. Surveillance does not announce itself with headlights. This is something that wants to be seen. Something that is communicating: we know where you are.
Nadia's composure is back. The fracture lasted four seconds and is now fully sealed the three years of federal analytical training reasserting itself over whatever the phone call produced in the personal layer beneath it.
"How many?" Lucien says. Completely operational. No other register available to him right now, which is correct.
"The call said two vehicles," Nadia says. "One at the entrance. One a
