"She's getting stronger."
Kieran leaned against the cold stone wall, binoculars trained on the Swiss chalet. Two weeks of watching them.
Through the lenses, he saw her. Aria. Moving slowly, steadying herself against Marcus. Her legs, once broken, were moving. She is actually walking.
She was healing. Five years of waiting, watching her. She was finally safe enough to begin recovery. He had been away on a trip when she got shot.
Thank God she is safe now, but not safe enough. Not yet.
He lowered the binoculars, slid his phone from the pocket of his coat. Three missed calls blinked on the screen. Prague. The contact had something.
Kieran dialed.
"It's done," the voice said in Russian. "He talked. Two names. That's all he gave before…" The line went quiet.
"Send everything," Kieran said. "I'll review it." He ended the call and checked his watch. Zurich. Three hours. Another contact and another piece of the puzzle he had been assembling for six years.
