Click. Whir. Click.
The decoder cycled through combinations. Gina's heart was hammering against her ribs.
Ten minutes left.
From the hallway, she heard nothing. But the silence felt heavy, pregnant with danger.
Click.
The light on the safe turned green.
Gina yanked the handle. The heavy steel door swung open.
Inside were stacks of cash, gold bars, and passports. But she ignored the wealth. Her eyes locked on a black leather notebook sitting on top of the pile.
The Ledger.
She grabbed it. Her hands were shaking, but she forced them steady. She pulled out a handheld scanner-another toy from the NSA.
She opened the book. Page one. Scan.
Names. Dates. Bribes. It was all there. The Sterling money laundering. The payoffs to judges. The illegal campaign contributions.
Page ten. Scan.
Page twenty. Scan.
"Gina," Vesper's voice crackled in her ear. "The water stopped."
Gina froze. "I'm halfway through."
"He's drying off. You have three minutes."
Gina sped up. The blue light of the scanner washed over the pages.
Page forty.
"He's opening the bathroom door," Vesper warned.
Page fifty. Done.
Gina shoved the notebook back into the safe. She slammed the door. She spun the dial. She swung the painting back into place.
She turned to run, but her elbow clipped the frame of the painting. It tilted. Just a fraction. An inch to the left.
"He's in the bedroom," Vesper hissed. "He's checking the bed."
Gina couldn't make it back to the bedroom. If she went into the hall now, he'd see her.
She dove behind the heavy velvet drapes of the study window.
The study door opened.
Hansford walked in. He was wearing a robe, his hair wet. He was humming.
He walked to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a scotch.
Gina held her breath. She gripped a syringe in her pocket-a sedative. If he found her, she would have to take him down.
Hansford turned. He looked at the painting.
He frowned.
He took a step toward it.
Gina's muscles coiled. Come on, you bastard. Come closer.
Hansford reached out... and straightened the frame.
"Sloppy cleaning staff," he muttered.
He finished his drink, turned off the light, and walked out.
Gina waited a full minute before exhaling. Her knees were jelly.
She slipped out of the study and ghosted back to the bedroom. Vesper was waiting. She helped Gina back into bed, removing the micro-catheter and re-taping the now-empty IV drip to look convincing.
When Hansford came back to bed ten minutes later, Gina was snoring softly.
He kissed her forehead. "Sleep tight, my asset."
The next morning, Gina sat in the garden, drinking coffee.
She tapped her phone, sending a massive encrypted file to Brandon Charles.
Sent.
A moment later, a reply came.
Received. We have him. When do you want to execute?
Gina looked at the house. She saw Elberta watching from the window. She saw Hansford leaving for work.
She typed back: Not yet. I found a note in the ledger. He's planning a tax trap for my parents next week. I need to save them first.
She stood up.
"Vesper," she said. "Pack a bag."
"Where are we going?"
"Home," Gina said. "To my parents. I'm done playing the victim in this house. It's time to burn it down from the outside."
