She was just standing there.

At our gate. Dressed in white. Hands folded beneath her belly like some holy virgin, chin tilted up toward the camera. Smiling.

“Don’t open it,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Adrian muttered, already dialing security. “How the hell did she get past the outer checkpoint?”

Vanessa pulled up the perimeter feed on her tablet. “She had clearance. Someone in the inner ring let her through.”

“The mole,” I said ...