Back at the Compound... Lena kicked the office door open.
Empty.
But on the desk was a black binder — marked with her name.
She flipped it open, hands trembling as she skimmed page after page of surveillance photos, documents, medical reports. Her entire life catalogued. The bakery. The apartment. Her friends. Even her journals.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “He’s been watching me since I was a kid.”
Behind her, the walkie buzzed.
“Cellblock breach. Target unaccounted for. Lock down all exits.”
Too late.
She grabbed the binder, set fire to the shelves behind her, and vanished down the west corridor just as the office exploded behind her in a fury of heat and smoke.
---
The fire was still burning when Gabriel arrived.
His convoy rolled in quietly — black SUVs, armed guards, and a silen
