At that moment, the door of the black sedan opened. Two men in gray coats stepped out. They didn’t look around. They looked straight up at Evan’s windows. One of them pulled out a phone, and instantly, Evan’s mobile in his pocket buzzed. “Don’t answer it,” Calder commanded. “If you answer, they’ll triangulate that you’re home, not commuting. We have to wait until noon.”
The next few hours were torture. The men downstairs smoked, checking their watches. Evan sat on the floor, hugging his knees. He thought about his mundane life: boring reports, lunch with colleagues, weekend plans. All of it now felt like a distant memory from a past life.
“Why noon?” Evan asked when the clock neared 11:50. “Because at noon, the cycle closes,” Calder answered cryptically. He wasn’t shaking anymore. He was checking an old, battered watch on his wrist like a soldier before a raid.
At exactly 12:00 PM, Evan’s phone stopped buzzing with notifications. And then, the sound of sirens pierced the air. Not one car, but dozens. But they weren’t coming to his house. They were wailing somewhere downtown, right where Evan’s office was located.
Calder walked to the TV and turned it on. “Watch,” he said.
A red “BREAKING NEWS” banner flashed across the screen. Helicopter footage showed the skyscraper where Evan worked. Thick black smoke was billowing from the windows of his floor—the server room floor.