The Clerk
“Where are you, Jonas?”
“Safe house in Alexandria. I have tactical gear ready.”
“I’m on my way.”
I hung up, the storm raging behind me. They thought I was just a clerk. Tonight I was going to show Commander Vale exactly what kind of paperwork I specialized in.
Chapter 3 — The Safe House
The safe house in Alexandria was a nondescript brick warehouse that smelled of stale coffee and hot electronics. When I pushed through the heavy steel door, Jonas was typing fast at a bank of glowing monitors — a wiry man with a perpetual nervous energy, someone who saw the world in lines of code and intercepted signals.
“You look like hell,” he said, glancing at my ruined dress and the bruise on my jaw.
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