For a moment, Reed’s grip on the controls slackened.
He turned toward her, and something changed in his eyes—not recognition exactly, but the shock of finding a name from an old report standing in his cockpit.
“Mitchell,” he said.
Sarah nodded once.
“Phoenix.”
Park glanced between them.
“You know her?”
“I know the name,” Reed replied, still staring at Sarah. “I read the Wraith investigation years ago.”
The bank deepened, and the aircraft rolled another few degrees to the right.
Park looked back to the instruments.
Continue on the next page:
