The drugs keep me under for what feels like days, but my training kicks in. Between waves of artificial sleep, I count the nurse rotations, track the changing shadows on the wall, and piece together a timeline. Sixteen hours have passed since Geneva’s visit.
I’m more valuable to them conscious than sedated, which means they’ll ease up soon. Sure enough, when I next open my eyes, my head is clearer. The restraints remain, but the IV has been removed. Through the window, lights glitter against the Mediterranean like scattered diamonds.
A soft knock precedes Marcus’s entrance. His arm is in a sling, face pale but determined.
“Sonia.” He glances at the camera in the corner, then busies himself checking my vitals. When he leans close, his whisper is barely audible. “Alex’s offshore pro
