The Director never called. He didn't have to.
The organization was falling apart on its own. Blackbriar disappeared overnight. Mercury closed two offices. Redwood stopped answering. The Halcyon Foundation's financial records vanished.
Someone was cleaning up.
"Four cutouts gone in a night," Vance said. "That's not panic."
"That's procedure," Corbin said.
Corbin watched the reports from the factory office. Vance stood beside him.
"They're running," Vance said.
"Someone told them to. Probably the Architect. He's cutting loose ends."
"We're a loose end."
"We are," Corbin said.
"Comforting."
"Accurate," Corbin said.
Vance looked at the screen. "Then why isn't he coming after you?"
"He's waiting."
"For what?"
Corbin didn't answer. "Blackbriar gone overnight. That's not running."
"That's erased," Vance said.
"Someone's cleaning house before anyone talks," Corbin said.
Words appeared on the screen. No sender. No address.
YOU WANT ANSWERS.
Corbin stared.
SO DO I.
"Cryptic," Vance said.
"Careful," Corbin said.
"What does that mean?" Vance said.
Corbin typed: ABOUT WHAT?
The reply came fast. ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE.
Vance frowned.
Corbin typed: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN.
The reply came fast. NOT HERE. NOT YET.
Corbin leaned back. "He's afraid."
"You think so?"
"No." Corbin looked at the screen. "He's being careful."
THIS ENDS FOR NOW.
Corbin waited.
BUT IT DOES NOT END.
The screen went dark.
"That's a threat," Vance said.
"That's a promise," Corbin said.
"That's it?" Vance said.
"For now. I'm not letting him disappear, but I'm not chasing him tonight either."
"Then what?"
Corbin closed the laptop. "Nothing tonight."
"Nothing is not a plan," Vance said.
"Tonight it is." He picked up his coat. "Tomorrow we see who's left."
"The people who killed Mercer are gone."
"Most of them," Vance said.
"Enough of them. The organization is still out there. So is the Architect. I know."
Corbin was quiet a moment. "We're going home."
"Home sounds good," Vance said.
"Don't get used to it," Corbin said.
* * *
That night, Corbin let himself into the apartment. The lights were off.
Samantha was asleep on the couch under a thin blanket. He took another from the chair and laid it over her.
Her eyes opened. "You're back. And it's three in the morning."
"Something like that."
"You look tired," she said.
"I am tired."
"Then sleep. Did you fix it?"
Corbin thought about the men, the empty offices, the Architect.
"No."
"Is anyone still coming?"
"Not tonight," he said.
"That's not the same as no."
"No," he admitted. "It isn't."
"But you're home."
"Yes."
She pulled the blanket up and closed her eyes. "Then we'll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow."
Corbin smiled faintly. "Good plan."
"You're terrible at reassuring people," she murmured.
"So I've been told," he said.
He turned off the light.