Code took one slow, deliberate step toward me, the blade in his right hand still dripping fresh blood onto the dusty floor in thick, glistening drops that soaked dark into the worn carpet.
"What have you done?" I asked again, voice low.
He tilted his head slightly, a faint, almost playful glint in his eyes. "Cleared the way," he said softly.
Then he turned and leapt through the window in one fluid motion.
Glass exploded outward in a glittering, razor-sharp shower, catching the evening light like a burst of diamonds. I watched him twist mid-air like a cat, drive both blades into the exterior wall with a sharp crack, and descend in controlled jumps, vanishing below the ledge in seconds. A practiced escape. He had planned this exit from the moment he stepped into the room.
He was always going to run, I thought. The moment Major dropped, Code was already gone.
