O’Donnell’s Pub, December 26, 8:26 p.m.

“How can I help you, madam?” Malcolm said on the other end of the line.

“Please bring Jony to the phone,” Dahlia asked.

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible until an outcome is reached or the allotted time has passed.”

“How much of the allotted time is remaining?”

“Forty-eight hours.”

“I need Hunter and Jony now!”

“It may take some time to bring them to a private location. Is there a number where you can be reached?”

“Negative. I will call back.”

Dahlia hung up, and she felt eyes on her. The pub was overflowing, so it could be anyone. It would take the Shadow Dealers a while to get in touch, and it was time to collect her crash kit and move on.

Dahlia left the pub. She walked slowly down the street and attempted to rub some life into her cold limbs, but her light sweater provided little warmth. She traveled only a block or two before her arms felt as if she’d left them on a block of ice. When Dahlia came to the next intersection, she casually looked back to see if anyone was following. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement near an alleyway, but it was too subtle and too dark to be sure. She made an abrupt left turn then darted into a nearby parking garage.

Dahlia looked behind her as she rounded a corner, and a man in a hoodie followed.

She walked faster, but the figure in the hoodie matched her pace. She crouched down low between some parked cars. Can’t shoot him. I need this punk alive! She found a car with a loose tailpipe. With a quick jerk, the pipe was free. She grimaced as the noise reverberated in the garage; the hoodie guy didn’t seem to notice, however, because his stride didn’t deviate.

A few minutes later, she crouched under a car, hoodie guy’s legs were visible. With all her might, she jammed the jagged end of the tailpipe into Mr. Hoodie’s left ankle.

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“Argh!” Mr. Hoodie screamed and immediately grabbed his left ankle, rubbing it. For a brief moment, their eyes met. She brained him with the tailpipe, and he was out cold. She grabbed his limp body and began dragging him.

Need to be quick. No sense attracting any more attention than necessary, Dahlia thought. She had a look around. Despite being full, the garage was quiet. Not many people going out on this holiday evening. I need to find transportation! She spotted a truck, and started moving toward it. Argh, this guy is heavier than he looks! Dahlia got him to the truck. Then she heard something.

Footsteps!

She turned and found herself facing a middle-aged maintenance man.

Dahlia reacted without thinking. She punched the man in the throat—hard. The man dropped to his knees, grasping his throat and making muted guttural noises. She searched him and found a large ring of keys in the man’s coat pocket. She liberated the keys and the coat from the maintenance worker. Dahlia put the coat on. Too big! She felt like a child putting on an adult’s coat. She rolled up the sleeves until her hands were visible. Then she found a keyless entry remote among the keys. This is useful! She walked around the garage and pressed the lock and unlock buttons repeatedly until she found the man’s truck. No sense breaking in or hot-wiring a truck when I have Mr. Handyman’s keys, Dahlia thought.

She went back to hoodie guy’s body and started dragging him toward the maintenance worker’s truck. The passenger section was too small to fit her and the two men, so she decided to make use of the truck’s bed. She opened the tailgate. There was stuff everywhere: used oil cans, hoses, tools, and several other things scattered about. This will have to do!

An hour later, she was driving the maintenance worker’s truck out of the garage. It had taken some effort, but she’d been able to get both men into the bed of the truck. She’d located plastic sheeting and twine in a maintenance closet in the garage; these materials would keep the bodies clean and contained. “Thanks for the keys, Mr. Handyman,” Dahlia said, chuckling.

Using her cell phone, Dahlia called the Shadow Dealers and was connected to Malcolm.

“What’s the news?” Dahlia asked.

“Jony will be available momentarily.”

“I’ll wait.”

After a longer than reasonable amount of time, she was connected to Jony.

“How goes it, D?”

Dahlia described the events over the past few hours. Jony knew best not to interrupt her; he listened carefully.

“Are you there, Jony?”

“Yes, Mum, just takin’ it all in.”

“I think I know who is behind it all.”

Jony remained silent, so Dahlia continued. “The Collective. I saw one of their agents.”

“Who?”

“Gregor. He tailed me to a pub just after the incident.”

“That can’t be good.”

“How’s Hunter holding up?”

“He’s inexperienced, which is not helping matters.”

Dahlia’s head was throbbing; she was alone and fatigued. “I’m recalling you both immediately,” she said. “I need you to protect the home front.”

“We will set out at first light.”

“No—leave now!”