Peak #2
"What?" Peak asked.
"A number."
Peak looked up. "You saw one too."
"Yep, in red paint." She pointed near the corner of his sketch. "It started with a B.”
Peak nodded. "I saw that, but what came after it?" Neither answered, because neither knew.
Warden looked between them. "I hate it when you two do this."
"What?" Peak asked.
"Start speaking hacker,” Warden said.
Peak laughed quietly. "It's not hacker."
"It's pattern recognition." Maeve smiled. "Wren used to call it—” She stopped speaking.
Peak looked over. "What did she call it?"
Her expression softened. "She used to say that the answer is always hiding in the background." Peak looked back down at the sketch—not at Captain, but at everything around him.
He enlarged the rough drawing and froze. “No,” he breathed.
Maeve leaned closer. "What?"
"The conduit." She looked and then seemed to immediately understand.
"It wasn't electrical." Peak nodded.
"No, it was steam,” Maeve said.
Warden blinked. "You lost me."
Peak stood. "Steam lines are industrial." Peak's pulse quickened. "The warehouse." He pulled up the map they'd been studying of Bayview Logistics and the old seafood processing plant. Everything seemed to fit—too well. "They want us to think Captain's somewhere else."
Maeve nodded. "But they slipped."
Peak smiled grimly. "They're using the warehouse."
Warden grabbed his shotgun. "Then let's go."
"No." Both Peak and Maeve answered together.
Warden frowned. "What now?"
Peak looked toward the shattered window. "They're expecting us."
"So?" Warden asked.
"So Captain told us to run."
Maeve nodded slowly. "He wasn't telling us to abandon him."
"He was warning us,” Peak agreed.
"About what?" Warden asked.
Peak answered. "The warehouse." He walked slowly across the room. "If the Director wants Maeve, they don't need Captain."
Warden's eyes widened. "You think he's bait."
"I know he is."
Maeve looked down. "And I'm the hook."
Peak stopped directly in front of her. "No."
She met his eyes. "They're using me."
"They're trying to, but they only win if you stop thinking,” he said. She smiled faintly, and the burner phone vibrated. All three of them looked at it, and nobody moved. It vibrated again, and Peak picked it up to find one text message.
ONE HOUR
There was nothing else. No coordinates or instructions—just a countdown.
Maeve frowned. "That's different."
Peak nodded. "They've changed the game. They want us to second-guess ourselves.”
"No." He looked at her. "They want us to move. It’s easier to hit moving targets,” Maeve said.
Warden slammed another shell into his shotgun. "I'm getting real tired of these people."
Peak almost smiled. "So am I, brother."
Maeve picked up the coded strip Captain had left behind and stared at it. "Tide Before Dawn."
Peak watched her. "You've got something."
"I think—” She turned the strip over. "My grandfather always checked the tide tables."
Peak frowned. "So?"
"So if this is literal—” She looked at him. "There's only one tide before dawn."
Peak understood immediately. “It’s a shipping schedule."
She nodded excitedly. "Not a location, but a time."
He pulled the map back up. "Cargo leaves with the tide, because larger boats need deeper water."
Maeve's eyes widened. "Wren wasn't telling us where she was; she was telling us when they'd move her."
Peak's heart started pounding. They'd been looking at the clue all wrong. It wasn’t a destination, but a deadline. He checked the clock. It was 4:12 a.m.
Maeve was already searching offline tide charts stored in the mapping software. "There." She pointed to the screen. "High tide."
Peak read the screen. "5:38 a.m." Silence filled the motel room. That was in less than ninety minutes. Whatever the Director planned, it was happening before sunrise.
Peak looked at Warden. "Call Ruin."
The Enforcer already had his phone out. "I’ve got no signal." Peak cursed.
Maeve looked toward the window and the storm brewing outside. "The towers have too much interference."
Peak grabbed his kutte. "We're done waiting."
Warden smiled. "Now you're talking."
Peak holstered his pistol before turning toward Maeve. "You stay behind me."
She folded her arms over her chest. "No."
"I'm serious,” he insisted.
"So am I,” she said. He opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it. "I'm the only one who recognizes Wren's code."
"I know."
"I'm also the only one the Director actually wants, and if they're expecting us—” She stepped closer to him and stared him down. “They're expecting you to protect me."
Peak frowned. "So?"
"So let's stop doing what they expect." For a second, nobody spoke.
Warden grinned. "I like her."
Peak sighed. "Yeah, so do I." Maeve looked up at him, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips despite everything.
"We're going to get your president back,” she promised.
Peak held her gaze. "And your sister." He wasn't making a promise; he was stating a fact. Somewhere out there, Captain was waiting. Somewhere else, Wren Carter was still leaving breadcrumbs for the sister she refused to believe had given up. Peak wasn't about to prove her wrong.
He opened the motel door. The rain had finally stopped, and the sky over Maryland was beginning to lighten with the first gray hints of dawn. And somewhere across the Eastern Shore, the tide was coming in.