Licensed to Kill

Chapter 5

It was around eleven when Alana dropped me off at her safe house, a small, cottage-style duplex about twenty minutes south of the heart of the city. In the cloak of darkness, I didn't worry about being seen. And even if someone did spot me, I wasn't going to stick around long enough to encounter them anyway.

Alana and I hugged once more and I thanked her for the help. She wished me luck and promised she'd be available if I needed anything else. She was gone as soon as I slipped inside the front door.

I made sure all the curtains were drawn before turning on a lamp in the living room. Clearly, Alana hadn't been there in a while, as there was a thick layer of dust on every piece of furniture. I traipsed through the house, checking every lock and looking behind every door until I was satisfied that I was alone and safe – or as safe as I could possibly be for someone with a target on their back.

I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but I couldn't sleep. I was too wound up for sleep. I needed to go over the case file. I needed to pinpoint every clue and chase every possible lead.

Thankfully, Alana had a large supply of coffee in the pantry, and I took full advantage of that, making a big pot and drinking half of it in less than an hour while I studied the file. I suspected I hadn't been provided all the evidence that A.R.T. possessed. Lancaster more than likely withheld some information from me.

After multiple reviews of the papers spread out in front of me, and no obvious clues jumping out at me, I came to the conclusion that the best place to start would be to retrace Agent Lindsey's steps. But before I could do that, I was going to need Alana's help again.

To avoid the possibility that anyone could hack in and read my texts, I switched to a texting app and messaged Alana.

I need one more thing. A new passport and international clearance.

I knew I couldn't use my own identification anymore. My every move would be traced and I couldn't trust London A.R.T. enough to let them know where I was headed. I had to create an entirely new identity to work this case.

How do you like the name Sofia Cortez? Your skin tone could pass for Hispanic, if you can do the accent.

The name Sofia reminded me of my birthplace. Sofia, Bulgaria. I cringed at the memories associated with my home country. I hadn't thought about Bulgaria in so long, but I could still remember the explosions that killed my family, the bombings that hardened me to the world and lead to my career as an agent.

I swallowed down the last of the coffee and shrugged away the memories that were still too vivid.

Fine by me. I need it before morning.

I'll pick you up at five.

Come sunrise, I would be well on my way to Germany.

I glanced at the clock. It was just after one and the coffee was doing little to keep me jazzed. If I was going to get any sleep, now was my chance before all hell potentially broke loose in the morning.

I slipped all the papers back inside the folder and stuffed it back in my bag. I looked at my phone knowing I'd have to ditch it so no one could track my location. I knew Alana would know this, too, so I didn't bother mentioning it to her. She'd likely arrive with more items than I actually needed for my venture.

I doubted A.R.T. had gotten wind of my escape from the Marriott yet. Even if they had, they wouldn't be sending anyone after me just yet. If I'd profiled Lancaster correctly, he wasn't the type to jump into action the moment something developed. He would likely wait to see what I was up to. But the joke was on him. I'd sever the tie in the morning and disappear from the Taskforce's radar.