4:58 PM.
The digital clock on Arvin's monitor changed minutes with a silent flicker.
Arvin cleared his desk. He stacked the files neatly, corners aligned. He wiped a smudge of coffee off the laminate. He threw away his dried-up pens.
It was the ritual of a man who didn't expect to come back on Monday.
Stop cleaning, Dante said. You're acting like a maid. Focus.
I'm tidying, Arvin thought. If... if we don't come back, I don't want Nova to have to clean up my mess.
We are coming back, Dante replied. But we might be covered in arterial spray. So, yes. Maybe leave a change of clothes.
Arvin picked up his bag. He looked across the aisle.
Nova was on the phone, laughing at something a client said. She twirled a pen in her fingers. She looked normal. Safe.
She caught him staring and covered the mouthpiece. "Heading out?"
"Yeah," Arvin said. His voice didn't shake. It felt dead in his throat. "I have... an appointment."
"Okay. See you Monday?"
Arvin looked at her. He memorized the way the fluorescent light hit her messy hair.
"Yeah," Arvin lied. "See you Monday."
He turned and walked away before his resolve crumbled.
He walked to the elevators. He pressed the down button.
Heart rate is spiking, Dante noted. Breathe. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.
I can't, Arvin thought, stepping into the empty car. They're going to hurt us.
They are going to try, Dante corrected. Listen to me, Arvin. This is important. When you get in the car, do not resist. Do not talk back. Be the sheep. Make them feel powerful.
Why?
Because a bored guard is a sloppy guard. I need them to take us to Vargas. I need to know where the nest is before I burn it.
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor.
The lobby was busy. People rushing home, checking phones, shaking umbrellas.
Arvin walked through them like a ghost. He pushed through the revolving doors and stepped onto the sidewalk.
A black sedan was idling at the curb. The windows were tinted so dark they looked like oil slicks.
The rear window rolled down two inches.
The man from the lobby—the one with the baseball cap—was sitting in the back. He didn't smile. He just jerked his head toward the door handle.
Arvin walked to the car. His hand hovered over the handle. Every survival instinct he had was screaming: RUN. SCREAM. FIGHT.
Open it, Dante commanded.
Arvin pulled the handle. He slid into the backseat.
The door slammed shut. The lock engaged with a heavy thud.
The air inside smelled of leather and stale cigar smoke.
"Punctual," the man in the cap said. He patted Arvin down, checking for weapons. He found nothing but a phone and a wallet. He took both.
"Smart kid," the man grunted. He tapped the partition. "Drive."
The car pulled away from the curb, merging into the rush hour traffic.
Arvin sat with his hands on his knees. He looked out the window. He saw his office building receding. He saw Nova's window on the fourth floor.
"Where are we going?" Arvin asked. He forced his voice to tremble. It wasn't hard.
"To a party," the man said, lighting a cigarette. He blew the smoke in Arvin's face. "Vargas is dying to meet the 'Demon'."
The man laughed. It was a wet, hacking sound.
Arvin coughed, turning his head away.
Let them laugh, Dante whispered. Let them drive us into the dark. They think they picked up a victim.
Arvin closed his eyes as the car turned toward the industrial district.
They didn't, Dante finished. They picked up a bomb.