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service elevator, but Adam sensed something more devious at work. A patient thief would have another plan, might even wait it out and leave during the confusion of emergency responders.
    Smoke rolled into the hall, setting off fire alarms. Clearly that was the plan the thief intended to go with.
    A normal man would be blinded, but Adam merely dropped to a crouch to avoid the worst of the smoke. He transitioned into his alternate vision and viewed the scene in thermal images.
    A body moved swiftly away from his position, something cooler clutched between warm arm and warmer ribcage. Other shapes made of various shades ranging from bright yellows to deep orange moved clo ser to the doors that opened onto the hall to see what was going on.
    "Stay inside," he shouted, hoping he sounded like one of the security guards on staff.
    Staying low, he followed the shape that had to be the woman toward the front of the building. He needed the nano-tech for Messenger, but even more he needed to unload seven years of frustration into the spy who'd ruined his career by pinning a CIA intelligence leak on him that resulted in five deaths.
    The shape shifted and a blast of heat flared. A bullet. Adam dropped to the floor as the sound of the gunshot ripped through the air. Not the woman, she hadn't carried a weapon at all since he'd been following her.
    Step right up and meet Player Three.
    His mind sorted the odds and probabilities in less than two seconds as he reached a conclusion. The mission was the recovery, but his revenge rested with the woman. To hell with the intel on her, he didn't believe she had any real interest in the nano-tech or a buyer in the wings. No connection at all beyond her friendship with the woman whose name was on the lease.
    But she was the one person who had Galloway's personal attention.
    Which meant Player Three thought he had the intel and had set up Vaccaro as the patsy for robbery. That new twist increased her value to Adam – if only out of sympathy.
    Tension and temper gripped him, threatened to overwhelm logic. He'd seen this sort of double cross in action before.
    Anyone who knew he was here, and that number shouldn't be greater than two – himself and Messenger – would expect him to follow the man who'd just shot at him.
    But doing the expected had landed him in this mess. His clean record had been a clear disadvantage in that critical moment when his career was hanging in the balance, judged by those who'd been out of the field too long. 'No one was that clean, ' they'd said.
    Adam didn't take anything at face value anymore, didn't trust anyone other than himself and occasionally Messenger.
    The mission was securing the data. The revenge was gravy.
    The only mission he'd officially failed was the one where Galloway had double crossed him. Adam wasn't about to call this failure 2.0, but he couldn't ignore his instincts. Official records aside, his instincts had never let him down – before or after he'd given the program free rein with his body and his future.
    He moved toward the back door of the apartment where Vaccaro was supposedly taking in the mail to rescue her. This wasn't the season for dodging bullets and she couldn't be nearly as helpful to him from the wrong side of a jail cell.
    With his thermal vision active, he saw her as a blob of bright colors crawling away from him toward the front door. Sirens wailed outside, growing closer as the emergency crews answered the calls of building security and residents.
    If they didn't get out quickly, they'd be caught and detained. Or worse.
    Suddenly another flash-bang grenade went off. On a pained cry, the woman crumpled against a wall in the fetal position.
    His ears were ringing from the noise but his thermal vision wasn't affected. He moved unerringly toward her through the smoke-filled hall hoping she wouldn't fight him. Unable to see or hear in the wake of the disorienting grenade, she'd surely be terrified.
    With no way of controlling the