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Gun snug against her spine, shirt tugged down to hide it, Kat balanced on the balls of her feet and opened the door.

Victoria Eldridge waited outside, charcoal wool suit a shade darker than the night behind her. Faint creases bracketed a mouth set for bad news. Her short, ash-brown hair lay in an uncompromising part, untouched by dye. Her gaze was intent.

They’d crossed paths once during a security clearance review. Eldridge had been thorough but forgettable in the way bureaucrats often were, but she was not the kind of woman who made midnight house calls.

Two agents flanked her.

SIS Internal Oversight Division.

Internal affairs by any other name.

A hard rock formed in her stomach. This was worse than bad.

Eldridge flashed her identification as if they were strangers. “Agent Landon. Victoria Eldridge, Internal Oversight.” Her gaze dipped to Kat’s feet. “Fully dressed at 3:00 a.m. Expecting company?”

Kat didn’t budge. She kept the door half-shut. “It’s the middle of the night.” Kat glanced up and down the street— no surveillance van, no idling cars. Just three spooks on her doorstep at an ungodly hour.

“Time’s never inconvenient in our line of work, is it?” Eldridge’s smile was wafer thin.

The agents flanking her stood rigid—career spooks. The man’s suit strained across shoulders built on creatine and bench-press reps. His female partner had pale, rain-diluted eyes that studied Kat with undisguised interest.

“Internal Oversight always knock after bedtime, or am I just special?”

Eldridge’s head dipped. “We are here about…irregularities.”

Irregularities? Kat’s heart stuttered, but she kept her expression blank.

Eldridge grimaced. “Landon, we can do this here or inside. But we are doing this.”

Not a request.

Kat stepped back and opened the door wide. “Fine. This way.”

She led them to the kitchen, hyperaware of their footsteps behind her. The cat’s empty bowl caught her eye. The cat had vanished—smarter than she was, apparently.

Eldridge slid into a chair without waiting to be invited. The fluorescent light flattened the colors of her face. “A glass of water, if you don’t mind.”

Of course I don’t. Kat kept the sarcasm behind her teeth. “Sure.”

She turned the tap on too far and splashed her shirt. Damn. She patted at it with a kitchen towel, then set the glass in front of Eldridge.

Eldridge’s companions hadn’t moved except to position themselves—one at the kitchen entrance, the other by the back door. Sentry positions to prevent an escape.

Kat’s skin prickled. Her kitchen had never felt smaller.

Eldridge fumbled in her jacket pocket. Small white pills scattered into her palm—three of them, which she swallowed in one quick motion.

“Damn indigestion,” Eldridge said, catching Kat’s stare. Her hand trembled as she set the glass down and for a moment, she looked older than her years, the light catching every line around her eyes.

Then she straightened, her professional mask sliding back into place. “This is Agent Pierce.” She gestured toward the muscled man. “And this is Agent Gra?—”

“I don’t need a roll call. I need answers.” Kat folded her arms, her gun cold against her spine. “You mentioned irregularities?”

Eldridge produced a folded document. She pushed it toward Kat with her fingertips. “Search warrant.”

Kat scanned the official seals. Genuine—and signed off by Judge Hunter.

Her stomach dropped—this wasn’t routine harassment. “What are you looking for?”

“Let’s not waste time with theatrics.” Eldridge nodded to her agents.

Kat stepped sideways, blocking Pierce’s path. “You show up at 3:00 a.m. with a warrant you won’t explain. I have the right to observe the search.”

Eldridge’s eyes hardened. “Agent Landon?—”

“Why don’t we call legal right now? I’m sure they’d love to verify this warrant’s legitimacy.”

Eldridge pushed to her feet. “Go on. Call legal. Wake them. Nothing you say will change what happens next.”

She clicked her fingers at Pierce. He moved immediately, driving his shoulder into Kat’s chest, sending her staggering back against the wall. The woman slipped past in his wake.

Eldridge retrieved the warrant from the table and tucked it inside her jacket to the growing sounds of Kat’s life being taken apart.

Kat’s breathing shallowed. Her fists, clammy with sweat, curled at her sides. Every sound from another room landed like a slap—wood scraped, drawers yanked, fabric flung. She imagined Pierce’s meaty hands in her underwear drawer.

They were tearing through her life. Through her.

“Boss!” Pierce’s voice boomed from the bedroom.

“Excuse me.” Eldridge started toward the hallway.

Kat moved faster, slipping past Eldridge and reaching the bedroom first. What she found made bile burn in the back of her throat.

Her dresser gaped, drawers overturned. Clothing scattered across the floor—her silk blouses, lace underwear, everything private exposed. They’d even pried up sections of her floorboard, leaving a dark hole in the hardwood like an open wound.

Eldridge entered behind her, breath labored. “Step back, Agent Landon. This isn’t your scene anymore.”

Kat didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Her mouth was dry, her hands clenched into fists.

She’d been ambushed before. Interrogated. Watched men die. But this—this violation of home, of self—was different.

Pierce held up a portable SSD between two thick fingers.

Eldridge took it and motioned to Grant who provided her with a compact tablet.

Eldridge connected the two. She studied the information, her expression unreadable.

Kat caught glimpses of text, but nothing specific.

What the hell was going on? None of this made any sense. She’d never seen that drive before.

“Agent Katarina Landon, you’re under arrest on suspicion of treason.” Eldridge’s voice was scrubbed of emotion.

“Treason?” Air deserted Kat’s lungs as the word detonated in her skull. Ten years of service, loyalty, sacrifice—annihilated by a single lie. “This is ridiculous.” She fought to kept her voice steady even as her world tilted sideways. “I’ve never seen that drive before.”

“Save it for your lawyer.” Pierce moved toward her, handcuffs already in his grip.

Kat’s hand itched to retrieve the gun at her back, then stopped. Three against one. In her own bedroom, and a warrant backed by planted evidence. No.

The smart play, for now, was compliance.

Besides, proving her innocence from inside a holding cell would be impossible.

She raised her hands, palms visible. “I’ll need to get changed.” She gestured to her damp shirt.

“Agent Grant will supervise,” Eldridge said, nodding at the woman. “You have three minutes.” Then she turned on her heel and left the room with Pierce.

Kat stepped into her walk-in wardrobe. Tossed sweaters and scattered lingerie covered the floor like debris from an explosion.

Grant positioned herself in the doorway, pale eyes tracking every movement.

Kat pulled off her damp shirt. The Glock’s weight shifted against her spine—too exposed, too risky with Grant’s predator stare cataloguing everything. She let the gun drop inside her discarded shirt.

Behind the hanging blouses, her fingers found the emergency phone taped to the back wall. One-handed, she powered it on while sorting through scattered clothes with the other.

Her thumb flew across the screen.

They’re coming for me.

You’re the only one I can trust. Please, I need you to ? —

“Time’s up.” Grant’s reflection filled the wardrobe mirror.

Send . The incomplete message vanished into digital space as Kat jammed the phone beneath a fallen cashmere sweater.

She grabbed a dry hoodie from a hanger and yanked it on.

Grant’s grip locked hard around her elbow—not enough to bruise, but fast enough to warn.

“This is a setup.” Kat’s voice stayed level despite the fire in her elbow. “Those documents were planted.”

Grant grunted. “Save your breath.”

Pierce filled the hallway like a brick wall, already positioned by the front door.

“This is a mistake,” Kat called out as cold metal bit her wrists. The handcuffs clicked tight.

Grant tested the fit. “Shut up.”

“Tell it to the tribunal.” Pierce twisted the front door handle.

Cool night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain and exhaust fumes. The street lamp cast harsh yellow circles on the wet ground. Pierce stepped outside first, head swiveling before jogging to their car.

The tabby exploded from the shadows.

Striped fur streaked past Kat’s legs, then ricocheted through Grant’s ankles like a furry missile. Grant’s balance shattered. She pitched sideways, releasing Kat as her shoulder hit the door, cracking the glass.

Pierce spun toward them, mouth gaping. “Hey?—”

“Landon!” Eldridge’s voice cracked like a whip from behind.

Kat was already moving. Legs pumping, arms useless behind her back, she sprinted toward her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Patterson’s hedge. The dense rhododendrons rose like a green wall.

She dove.

Branches tore at her face. Thorns slashed her arms. She hit squelching earth, rolled hard onto her side, breath driven from her lungs.

Fuck.

She thrashed upright, crashing through the neighbor’s prize roses. Mrs. Patterson was going to be furious . Garden gnomes in red trousers grinned at her from the darkness.

“No lethal force unless absolutely necessary!” Eldridge’s command carried across the hedge.

Mrs. Patterson’s back garden butted against a narrow alley that connected to three different streets. Kat knew the layout. The alley split three ways—they’d waste precious minutes picking the wrong one.

She pressed herself against the cold brick of the house, gulping in air.

Radio chatter buzzed from the street. They were calling for backup, establishing checkpoints. Within minutes, the area would be crawling with additional agents.

She needed traffic noise and the bus route. Witnesses. Complications they couldn’t afford.

Pierce’s heavy breathing filtered through the foliage—winded, but moving. Maybe sixty seconds before he breached her position.

She ducked low and hurried to the back garden, slowing as she spotted the gate to the alley was secured with a hefty padlock.

Shit.

She checked left. Right. A large compost bin had been built flush with the fence.

Kat rolled onto the top of the bin, wet wood creaking under her weight.

On her knees, she threw her upper body over and tumbled into the alley.

Tears scalded her eyes and agony exploded through her hips and shoulders as she hit the dirt, grit grinding between her teeth.

The rain had cleared. Stars winked above her, mocking.

She could lie here?—

Fuck that.

Kat twisted. Found her feet.

Ran.