Sophia swallowed hard as several armed men stormed into the room. Her eyes darted around, scanning every corner, every exit. The setup was too clean. That call had been a trap.
“If I pull my weapon now, you’ll call me a traitor,” she said, voice steady. “But if I don’t… you’ll kill me anyway, right?”
Her hand hovered near her pocket, where a revolver sat snug. Two more were holstered on her shoulder straps. Never in a million years did she think she’d end up like this, summoned like a loyal agent, only to be treated like a criminal.
The director gave a slow shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I know this isn’t fair. But you’re done. You can’t be part of this mission anymore. You’re damn good at what you do. Your father was a legend, but that legacy doesn’t cut it anymore.”
Sophia’s
