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building. “That place is a kind of oubliette for information. It’s not that there are firewalls protecting its identity, or powerful encryption algorithms. I’m sure it’s got all that too, but what really protects it is just open space. All the paper trails leading in have just the right breaks in them. It’s the sort of thing you can only pull off if you have the right kinds of connections and a lot of money. Enough to bend the rules around yourself.”
    Travis watched another SUV pull into the place. The driver looked like an NFL linebacker with a Marine haircut. Maybe he’d been both of those at one time.
    “It’s not gonna happen with the FBI,” Bethany said. “Not if we don’t know who we’re dealing with.”
    Travis nodded, his eyes still locked on the building.
    “What about Tangent’s hubs?” he said. “Didn’t they have a couple dozen of those around the world? Secure sites staffed with their people, armed and trained to beat hell? Couldn’t we get help from one of those?”
    Bethany was already shaking her head. “The hubs are gone. They only existed to deal with Aaron Pilgrim. Once that threat was eliminated, there was no more need for them. Hub staff were never really members of Tangent to begin with. They were elite military units from a number of countries, cleared for some minimal knowledge of Tangent and its operations. Over the past two years they’ve all been let go, with nice, thick nondisclosure documents to sign on their way out.”
    She was looking down at her hands as she spoke. She looked about as lost as anyone Travis had ever seen.
    “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “We’re not going to get any help, and we’re not getting in there by ourselves. You know that, don’t you?”
    Travis stared at the place. If Paige’s room had a window, and if she could stand up and walk to it, she could see the two of them right now—even if she’d never recognize them at this range.
    He looked away from the building. Met Bethany’s gaze.
    “Yes,” he said. “I know. Every guard in the place will have an automatic weapon and a big red button that can lock the whole building down.”
    “And we’re a kid armed with a slingshot.”
    Travis’s eyes fell to Bethany’s backpack lying between them on the table, and the long cylindrical shape inside it.
    “We don’t know what we’re armed with yet,” he said.
    Bethany nodded. “Let’s find out.”

Chapter Six
    P aige woke in the same place where she’d fallen asleep: a hardwood-floored office eight or ten stories up, overlooking D.C. through tinted windows. The room was bare. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling. She lay in the center of the open space, her wrists and ankles bound with heavy-duty zip ties.
    It was morning now, but during the night she’d lain awake here for hours, listening to footsteps coming and going in the corridor. Overhearing conversations outside the door, hushed and tense, right at the brink of her discernment. One word had jumped out at her half a dozen times, maybe the working title of some project or operation. The closest thing to context she’d gotten was a single exchange, a few decibels higher than the rest of the talk:
    “They sound rattled. They’re not thinking of shutting it down, are they?”
    “Umbra? Not a chance.”
    Umbra. Paige had fallen asleep replaying the word in her mind, along with the rest of the exchange. Now she was awake, still replaying it. Trying to fit it with the scattered knowledge she’d had before coming to D.C.
    She lowered her head to the hardwood and stared out at the city in the soft yellow light.
    These people were going to kill her. No doubt about that. The only question was when. Sometime today, for sure. As soon as they were certain she was of no value, it would happen. By now they’d probably spoken to the president, and figured out that she’d already told him everything she knew. She’d requested the meeting, after all; why wouldn’t she