The sun was just beginning to crest over Prague's skyline, casting a pale, uncertain light across the ancient city. Cassie and Anya moved quickly across the rooftops, their breath clouding in the chill morning air. Each step was calculated, each shadow a potential trap. The safety of darkness had vanished, leaving them exposed and hunted.
They found a moment's reprieve inside an old, abandoned bell tower at the edge of the city center. Cassie's hands ached from gripping the cold metal of the fire escape, and her legs trembled as she leaned against the cracked stone wall. Anya sat nearby, her eyes never staying still, scanning their surroundings for any sign of pursuit.
"Where do we go from here?" Cassie asked, her voice low but urgent.
Anya glanced at her, exhaustion lining her face. "There's a contact I trust, a journalist named Erik Klein. He's worked against the agency for years, though they think he's just another conspiracy theorist. He'll know how to get this out to people who can use it."
Cassie frowned. Trust was a scarce commodity, and any new ally came with risks. "How can you be sure he's not compromised?"
Anya met her gaze, the hardness in her eyes softened by a flicker of vulnerability. "Because he was one of the first people to warn me when the agency turned on us. He helped me disappear when they forced me into hiding."
Cassie nodded, weighing the risks against their dwindling options. They needed to move before the agency tracked them to the bell tower. She reached inside her coat, fingers brushing the leather-bound notebook, feeling the weight of lives recorded within its pages. This list was more than a collection of names—it was leverage, truth, and, most dangerously, a death sentence.
"Erik works out of a safe house near Wenceslas Square," Anya continued. "It's only a few blocks from here, but it'll be crawling with agency eyes."
"Then we split up," Cassie said. "We're harder to spot if we're not together."
Anya's brow furrowed, a shadow of doubt crossing her face. "Are you sure you want to risk that?"
Cassie nodded. "I'll be a decoy. Draw them away from the square. You get to Erik and make contact. I'll circle back once it's clear."
A moment of silence passed between them, an unspoken understanding that their trust in each other was still fragile but necessary. Anya stood, shoulders squaring with newfound resolve. "Be careful, Cassie."
"I will," she promised, hoping it was more than just words.
They slipped out of the bell tower, taking different paths. Cassie stayed low, her every step an exercise in controlled movement as she descended to street level. The city was beginning to stir, early morning workers and delivery trucks creating just enough chaos to give her cover. She ducked into a crowded market street, blending in as vendors set up their stalls.
A sharp movement caught her eye—a suited man standing too still, eyes tracking her movements from across the street. Cassie's pulse quickened, and she changed direction, slipping between the tightly packed stalls. She didn't look back, knowing that any sign of hesitation could be fatal.
Behind her, footsteps quickened. The agent was closing in.
Cassie darted through an alley, the air damp with the scent of morning rain and trash. A door to her left swung open, and without thinking, she slipped inside, pressing herself against the wall. Voices echoed from the street, harsh and searching.
"Check the alleys. She couldn't have gone far."
Cassie held her breath as footsteps approached, slowing outside her hiding spot. She gripped the edge of the notebook in her pocket, as if its weight could steady her racing heart. Seconds felt like hours, but then the footsteps moved on, fading into the morning din.
She exhaled slowly, her pulse still racing as she made her way to a different route that would loop back toward Wenceslas Square. She had to trust that Anya had made it to Erik.
---
Anya moved swiftly, her path winding through side streets and hidden courtyards. The sun rose higher, casting sharp shadows across the cobblestones. When she reached Wenceslas Square, she took a deep breath and surveyed the area. It was busy, filled with tourists and locals, and that was her advantage.
She spotted Erik's building, an inconspicuous tenement with peeling paint and ivy crawling up its façade. A flicker of doubt threatened to root her in place. How many times had she thought she was safe, only to be proven wrong? But she pushed it down, stepping toward the entrance.
The door opened before she reached it. Erik stood in the shadowed doorway, his expression unreadable. He was a wiry man in his late forties, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.
"Anya," he said, surprise and relief mingling in his voice. "I thought I'd never see you again."
She stepped inside, glancing around the dimly lit room cluttered with papers, photos, and maps pinned to the walls. "We don't have much time, Erik. The agency is closing in, and I'm not alone."
Erik's eyes narrowed. "Who did you bring?"
"A former agent. She has the list."
His eyes widened, but before he could respond, a shout from outside made them both freeze. Cassie appeared in the doorway, breathless and pale. "They found me," she said. "We have to move, now."
Erik's jaw tightened as he took in the urgency in their eyes. "The basement. It's reinforced and has a tunnel that leads out to the river. Go."
As they descended the stairs, Cassie could hear the pounding of feet above, agents flooding the building. Their escape had begun, but so had the final, desperate race for the truth.