Page 63 of Shadow Burn

The office door closed behind him.

Katherine’s heart plummeted. She should be the one confronting whoever Upton had sent a full day before the deadline. Anger rolled through her. Of course, he’d sent someone and hadn’t informed her. Of course, the retrieval order looked proper enough to create doubt and early enough to create panic. Her fingers tapped the desktop. She was being locked out of this—whatever it was—all over again.

Vivi stayed beside her, phone in hand. There was no one useful to call. Not without alerting Upton, and not without giving someone inside the Agency a chance to make the order legitimate after the fact.

On the monitor, Jasper crossed the compound yard toward the gate. His posture was easy, almost loose, but Katherine knew enough about him now to see the readiness beneath it. The man at the gate turned slightly, tracking his approach. For one second, the camera caught the lower half of his face in profile.

The world went white at the edges.

Thin upper lip. Fuller lower one. Slight asymmetry that made even a neutral expression look cruel.

Katherine heard the words again, low and bored through broken wood. You should’ve stayed in the archives, Ms. Townsend.

Her breath left her body. Her muscles locked up. “That’s him.” The words were nothing but a whisper.

Vivi’s hand tightened on her arm. “Katherine?”

“That’s him.” Her voice came out louder but raw this time. “That’s the man from my bedroom.”

Outside, Jasper was still walking toward the gate, and the man who’d tried to kill her had one hand in his coat pocket. Katherine didn’t stop to think.

She ran.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jasper crossed the compound yard, trying to rein in his irritation. Upton had apparently found Katherine, bypassed the deadline he’d given her, and sent someone to take the files. Jasper hadn’t said it out loud, but he wondered if Upton had already filed whatever official paperwork he needed to destroy her career.

And how the fuck had the CIA breached his secure site and located her? He was already running a full mental scan and audit in his head.

The air had cooled, and the first hint of a storm rode the breeze coming down from the mountains. Thunder boomed in the distance. The compound lights had already clicked on at the fence line, casting pale cones along the gravel drive and the locked front gate.

Beyond the bars was the SUV, its engine idling softly. A driver waited behind the wheel, while the courier stood beside the open passenger door with a folder tucked under one arm.

The timing was wrong. The location was wrong. The order was impossible to verify without tipping their hand.

Jasper stopped ten feet from the gate. The visitor had a conservative haircut and was clean-shaven. His suit hid a lean build. He wore a neutral expression as he lifted the folder. His voice was clipped. “I have a transfer order for the Walter Vance materials.”

“Set the order on the ground and step back,” Jasper said.

The man didn’t move. “I’m authorized to release it to Katherine Townsend only.”

“She’s not available.”

“She’s required to sign the transfer acknowledgment.”

“Then you’re going to be disappointed.”

The man’s gaze flicked briefly over Jasper’s shoulder toward the main building. “Ms. Townsend is already in significant procedural trouble. Moving federal materials to a private security facility without prior authorization creates a chain-of-custody problem. Refusing a direct retrieval order will make that problem worse.”

Jasper let the words sit. They created pressure without creating proof. If he refused, the refusal could be framed as interference. If Katherine refused, the refusal could be framed as noncompliance. If they released the papers, the Vance materials would disappear into whatever hole Upton had prepared.

“Name,” Jasper said.

The courier tapped the folder once. “My authorization is attached to the order.”

“I didn’t ask for a number.”

“My name isn’t relevant to the transfer.”