Chapter 2 - Daniel didn't move.The darkness swallowed the room.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
Somewhere behind him, the old man calmly said, "Don't turn around."
Daniel froze.
The weapon pressed harder against the back of his skull.
He recognized the voice.
It belonged to Thomas.
But that was impossible.
Thomas Reed was dead.
Daniel had watched him die.
Seven years ago, during a failed armored-car robbery in Chicago, Thomas had been shot three times.
Daniel had dragged him into an alley.
Thomas had bled out in Daniel's arms.
Daniel had buried him.
Or at least, he thought he had.
"Thomas?"
A quiet laugh came from behind him.
"You always were slow."
Daniel shut his eyes.
"You died."
"I did."
"Then what are you?"
Thomas stepped around him.
The lights came back on.
Daniel stared at his old partner.
He looked older.
A scar ran from his left eyebrow to his cheek.
His hair was gray at the temples.
But it was him.
Without a doubt.
Daniel lowered his weapon completely.
"What happened?"
Thomas walked toward the sofa.
"What happened is that you left me there."
"You were dead."
"I wasn't."
"I checked your pulse."
Thomas stopped.
"No. You checked for thirty seconds."
Daniel remembered.
Thirty seconds.
Maybe less.
He had been terrified.
Police sirens had been approaching.
He had run.
The old man stood.
"I'm afraid we're wasting time."
Daniel looked at him.
"Who are you?"
The old man extended his hand.
"Arthur Blackwood."
Daniel stared.
Everyone knew the name.
Arthur Blackwood was one of the wealthiest private investors in the country.
He owned security companies, shipping companies, banks, technology firms.
He had enemies everywhere.
He was rumored to have private intelligence networks more sophisticated than some governments.
Daniel didn't take his hand.
"You own this house."
"I do."
"Why did you let me in?"
Arthur smiled.
"Because you weren't breaking in."
Daniel frowned.
"You were invited."
Arthur pointed at the photograph.
Daniel looked closer.
The photograph had been taken at 1:42 a.m.
He had been standing outside the mansion.
Someone had deliberately allowed the camera to record him.
Then Daniel noticed something.
A red circle had been drawn around his face.
And beneath it was a number.
"What's that?"
Arthur's expression changed.
"Your designation."
Daniel frowned.
"I don't have a designation."
Arthur looked at Thomas.
Thomas stepped forward.
"You used to."
Daniel stared at him.
"You mean the organization?"
Thomas nodded.
Daniel's throat went dry.
Seven years ago, Daniel had worked for a covert private intelligence group known only as The Circle.
Officially, it never existed.
Its agents didn't have names.
They had numbers.
Daniel had been Agent 17.
Thomas had been Agent 9.
Arthur had been the man funding them.
Until one mission went wrong.
A mission involving a girl named Evelyn Blackwood.
Arthur's daughter.
"She's dead," Daniel whispered.
Arthur's eyes hardened.
"No."
Daniel stared at him.
"She died in the explosion."
"That's what they wanted you to believe."
Daniel took a step back.
Arthur opened a drawer.
Inside was a file.
He placed it on the table.
"Your mission tonight was supposed to be simple."
Daniel stared at the file.
"Find the black box."
Arthur nodded.
"Inside it is the truth about what happened seven years ago."
Daniel opened the folder.
The first page contained an old photograph.
A woman.
Evelyn Blackwood.
Standing beside Daniel.
Daniel's breath caught.
He knew the picture.
But there was one problem.
The photograph had been taken two days after Evelyn was supposedly killed.
Daniel turned the page.
A single sentence had been stamped across the document.
SUBJECT EVELYN BLACKWOOD: ALIVE.
Then Daniel heard footsteps upstairs.
Not three men.
Not four.
Dozens.
Arthur looked toward the ceiling.
His face went pale.
"They're here."
Daniel tightened his grip on the file.
"Who?"
May you like
Arthur whispered:
"The people who killed her the first time."
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