Page 77 of Code Name: Ghost

I move toward her without thinking, my shoes silent against the velvet carpet. Each step calculated. Controlled. I’ve interrogated warlords with less adrenaline in my veins. She doesn’t flinch as I slide into the seat beside her. Doesn’t speak.

I let the silence stretch.

"You’re supposed to be dead," I say finally.

“I get that a lot,” she responds, raising her glass.

I lean in close, my voice a low warning. "What do you want?"

She turns her head, lips inches from mine. "A deal."

* * *