Epilogue



Dr. Natalie Hurd removed her glasses for the retinal scanner. A tiny light at the bottom of the wall plate flashed green and the door slid open. She replaced her glasses and stepped across the threshold.

Her assistant, Kenner, stood waiting in the foyer. “How was Washington?” He gave her a slim plain folder with a report of the lab’s activities in the days she’d been away and took the handle of her suitcase.

“Overflowing with bullshit.” She glanced through the pages of the report as they walked briskly to her office. “Good to see the smart contact trial is going well.”

“Yes, so well in fact, the team is convinced it will work as a replacement for the more invasive retinal implant. In circumstances where it would be more appropriate, of course.”

Hurd flipped to another page, scanned its contents, and sighed. “Angel’s in confinement again, I see.”

“She had an altercation with a new recruit.”

“And I see he’s in the infirmary.” Angel had the potential to become a problem without the influence of Danielle. Well, a bigger problem. “Don’t keep her isolated long. Have her training with Nicole as much as possible.”

Once they reached the security of her office, Kenner asked the question she knew he’d been dying to ask. “What was their decision?”

Hurd tossed the folder onto her desk. “I got her six months. Then they’ll evaluate again, but I don’t hold out much hope of them allowing her to stay in Point Sable. And if she kills again, we have to bring her in immediately.”

“Even self-defense?”

She nodded. “Any circumstances. They don’t care. No killing, and no revealing her secrets. We get proof she’s done either of those things, we have to go get her.”

Kenner cleared his throat and tilted his head. “We don’t have proof she’s told Moynihan anything, but it’s possible.”

“If he’s helping her, he knows.” They both knew she meant helping with Danielle’s new-found calling.

“But we don’t have proof.” Kenner straightened, hands clasped behind his back.

“No,” she said thoughtfully. “We don’t.”

“What about a replacement for Col. Snyder?”

Disgust boiled in her gut like lava. “They’re still tripping all over themselves about him. The people who championed him when he was first brought in are too busy rewriting history and pretending they never trusted him.”

“Just like with Wolff,” Kenner said, naming her notorious predecessor.

Hurd gave him a sharp look. “Do you have the latest on her activities?”

Kenner moved to the wall safe and unlocked it with his own retinal scan then removed another folder. This one was black and stamped with the letters ASTRA in white on the front. “Ready for your review. Let me know what to redact and I’ll forward it to Washington.”

Hurd took the folder with a halfhearted glare. She would have him edit the report before sending it on. Until a replacement for Snyder was named and she knew if she could trust that person, she’d be keeping things very close to the vest. “I’d like some fresh coffee.”

Kenner nodded once. “Of course.” He left her office, closing the door behind him.

Hurd settled in to read. She went through the report carefully, first reading for herself, then with a red pen to notate what needed to be left out of the final version. A series of photographs followed the report. In one, Dani stood on a street corner, waiting for traffic to pause so she could cross. The next showed her outside the homeless shelter in Cabrini, in conversation with Kevin Moynihan. Both wore tentative smiles.

In the last photo, she wore a mask and was in the process of dumping a tied-up man on the steps of a police precinct. A Russian gangster involved in human trafficking, and Dani had turned him in to authorities rather than kill him.

Hurd held the picture aloft and studied it carefully. Wishing she could see through it, all the way to Dani’s troubled heart. “Disruptor,” she whispered. “I’m rooting for you, Dani. Oh, God, I’m rooting for you.”

The phone rang. She put everything back in the folder and moved on to other things. The lab had no shortage of issues that required her attention.