Kael Vance didn't wait around for Volkov to make another move. Alistair’s compromised status was all the confirmation she needed. The game had changed from high-society espionage to a low-down scramble.
She ditched her car service at Waterloo, paid the driver handsomely to forget he ever saw her, and walked into the station, melting into the evening commuter crowd. The roar of the station felt safer than the quiet luxury of Claridge's. Volkov worked best in the silence, in the bureaucracy. She was going to deny him both.
She bought a ticket to Amsterdam, not for a plane or a high-speed train, but for an overnight Greyhound bus that would take the ferry across the Channel. It was slow, uncomfortable, and anonymous—exactly what she needed. The kind of travel a high-flying, expensive American consultant would never take. It was a deliberate dive into the mundane, hoping the noise and the slow pace would hide her from the Iceberg's methodical gaze.
She found a seat toward the back, a window seat, and pulled a cheap paperback novel she’d bought from a newsstand out of her bag. She forced herself to read, but her mind raced.
Volkov wasn't playing by the standard rules of a "message job." He was efficient, proactive, and deeply ideological. He wanted to dismantle her, not just kill her. He was trying to prove a point about order versus chaos.
Okay, Ivan, she thought, watching the London streets disappear into the rain-slicked night. You want a game of attrition? Let’s dance.
She closed her eyes, the rhythmic vibration of the bus against the pavement a strange lullaby. She needed to think like him. He had taken her network; she would take his ability to operate freely. London was compromised. She needed neutral, but accessible ground. Amsterdam was good, but too small. Berlin was the front line, too hot.
Vienna. Vienna was the answer. The old imperial city was a nest of spies, a place where the Bear and the Eagle had been dancing for decades. It was messy, complicated, and full of history. A place where Kael could use the confusion to her advantage and force Volkov out of his carefully constructed quiet.
She felt a flicker of excitement. The chase was thrilling, the adrenaline a clean, potent drug. Volkov wanted to put her out. Kael Vance was just getting started.
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