The warehouse had been abandoned for ten years, according to the city.
Corbin stood in the dark near the far wall. Across the floor, Vance watched the entrances from above.
"How many?" Vance said through the earpiece.
"Four. Maybe five. For now."
Headlights cut through the windows. A black sedan pulled up to the loading dock, then a second one. Three men got out of the first. Two out of the second. One carried a hard case.
"They're nervous," Corbin said.
"Why?"
"They brought five men."
"Five doesn't sound nervous."
"It does here."
The lead man lifted his chin. "They say you don't miss."
"They say a lot of things," Corbin said.
The men came through the side door, boots on broken glass. The lead man scanned the rafters.
"Corbin Hale! We know you're in here. Come out where we can see you."
Corbin stepped into the open. "You found me."
"Hands where I can see them," the leader said.
"They're at my sides," Corbin said.
Five suppressed weapons came up. Red dots moved across his coat. He didn't move.
"Don't be stupid," the leader said.
"Five guns," Corbin said. "One man. You're still nervous."
The leader raised a hand. "Easy."
"Who sent you?" Corbin said.
"Someone who can help you."
"That's what people say right before they try to kill me."
"We're not here to kill you."
"I know. If you wanted me dead, you'd have brought more men."
The leader let out a short breath. "Flattering."
"Arithmetic," Corbin said.
Silence.
The leader smiled without humor. "You've always been difficult."
Corbin's focus sharpened. "Always?"
The leader caught it a second too late.
"How long have you known who I am?"
"I don't know you."
"You said always."
The leader glanced at his men.
"Who sent you?" Corbin said.
"The Director."
"Not the Architect?"
"No."
Corbin tilted his head. "The Director sends five men and a phone."
"The Director sends what he has," the leader said.
The man shifted. "Your instructions are simple. You come with us."
"They're simple," Corbin said. "They're also not happening. Where would you have taken me?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"Then we're done."
"You don't understand. The Architect wants to speak with you."
"Where is he?"
"He's not here."
"Why not?"
"I don't know."
Corbin smiled faintly. "That's becoming a popular answer tonight."
The leader's face darkened. "You were never supposed to survive this long."
"Neither was Mercer."
The leader's eyes widened. Just barely.
"You knew Mercer."
"No."
"You know what happened to him."
"No, I don't."
"You're lying."
The man reached inside his coat.
Corbin's hand dropped to his belt. "Don't do that."
The man froze. Slowly, he took out a phone and held it out. "For you."
"What is it?"
"A message. From the Architect."
Corbin took it. The screen lit up.
WE NEED TO TALK.
"That's it?"
"That's all I was given."
Corbin studied the screen. "He types in capitals."
"He doesn't type," the leader said.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
Corbin tapped through the admin menu and deleted the message and its routing key.
"What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up." He tossed the phone back. The man caught it against his chest.
"You were supposed to come with us."
"No."
"Then what happens now?"
"You came to me." Corbin said it flat. "That makes this my meeting."
"This isn't over," the leader said.
"It is for tonight," Corbin said.
The overhead lights came on. Vance stepped out on the catwalk near the exit, rifle raised. The five men turned, boxed.
"Weapons on the floor," Corbin said.
Nobody moved.
Corbin sighed. "I hoped you'd make this easy."
The leader set his sidearm down first. The others followed. Rifles and pistols clattered on the concrete.
Vance came down the stairs, rifle steady. "Smart."
Corbin looked at the leader. "Tell the Director the next message comes to my private channel."
"And if he refuses, you won't find him," the leader said, his voice hardening.
"Everyone can be found," Corbin said, walking toward the exit. "Then I'll find him myself."