There were startlingly few clocks inside the station, so it was hard to measure the passage of time. Rede napped in the corner for a bit, let Inna braid her hair, and took a couple trips to an astonishingly dirty bathroom. On her way back from one of her bathroom visits, she passed an officer clutching a steaming mug. The tantalizing, nostalgic scent of coffee wafted toward Rede as the officer walked by. Memories of her mother’s late nights, the stains on her shirtsleeves and the stack of filters in the compost bin drifted to the front of Rede’s mind like flotsam after a storm. She returned to the interrogation room in an uncomfortable daze.

As they waited, the sounds of footsteps and voices drifted in from the hallway. Rede, Inna, and Thanh paid no attention; Mara, however, spent most of her time with her ear against the door, hands cupped to channel the sound through the metal. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she mouthed the words she overheard back to herself.

“Catch anything interesting yet, Double-O Seven?” Thanh asked.

Mara shook her head, frowning. “I’m getting a lot, but I can’t really figure out what it means? Something about a ‘possible source downriver, but with interference?’ Also, apparently a shipment of something is delayed, or detained? Couldn’t tell which word.”

The group looked at one another, each as mystified as their companions.

“They did mention something about an unidentified vessel at ‘the scene’,” Mara added, punctuating the last phrase with air quotes.

“Could be the scene of the shooting,” Inna suggested. “As in, Ronan’s hideout.”

Mara shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Solid assumption, if you ask me,” said Rede. She tugged on a loose patch of hair.

Inna grabbed the offending lock and wove it back into the braid that encircled her head. “Seems like we won’t know for sure until we talk to one of them.”

The room fell silent, sobered by the reminder of their precarious situation. Mara went back to listening at the door, intent as ever. Rede wondered how she could focus that long, especially without caffeine. Rede herself had never been a coffee person — Inna was the resident caffeine addict — but she was starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation. Besides, she’d never say no to a luxury like that.

A knock startled Mara away from her post. She managed to get a few steps back before Shay opened the door and stepped inside.

Shay had changed into an oversized hoodie with the department logo, wet streaks down the front likely indicating where she had wiped her still-wet hands moments before. The smell of soap and rubbing alcohol filled the room.

Mara bolted to her feet, pushing her chair back with a metallic screech. “We need to talk,” she said, without preamble.

Simultaneously, Inna slid off the table to stand beside Rede. “How’s the officer?”

“He’s okay.” Shay rubbed her eyes, leaving them even redder and puffier than before. “No vital organs hit. We stitched him up quick.”

“Good.” Mara’s restlessness was clear in her clipped tone. She rocked from foot to foot as if trying to keep herself from bolting forward. “So, what the hell…?”

“I need to eat,” Shay interrupted, voice flat and slightly raspy. “Come with me.”

Mara’s jaw clenched. “No, we talk first.”

“I said…” Shay cast a meaningful glance at the camera mounted on the wall. “I’m going to go find some food. In a different room.”

Mara’s restlessness didn’t ease, but she clearly got the message. She acquiesced with a nod.

The crew followed Shay down the hallway and into what appeared to be a walk-in supply closet. Unmarked boxes lined the walls. A quick glance around the room confirmed the lack of cameras.

Inna, the last one to enter, pulled the door shut behind them. The air inside the closet was cold and thick with intermingling smells: aluminum, rubbing alcohol, the sweetness of rot and the funk of mold.

Rede stood sandwiched between Mara and Thanh, packed tight as sardines. The sudden closeness didn’t bother her; after the chill of the interrogation room, she welcomed their body heat. She did not welcome the way her cheek was pressed up against cardboard. In the corner of her eye, she could make out a faded Red Cross label. A light in the back of her mind turned on, but Thanh cut her off before she could investigate the thought.

“Okay, please explain,” Thanh whispered. “Your friend is shooting cops now?”

Rede peered around Mara’s shoulder to watch Shay, who rubbed her arms as if to warm herself. Her eyes had a glassy sheen, like a doll. “Ronan wouldn’t have done this himself,” she said. “He defends, not attacks. Especially not towards cops.”

So he wasn’t the one who started it — at least, if Shay was right. “Ducky’s mad enough to instigate, then,” Rede said. He had to be, if he were willing to invade enemy territory for a three-way standoff.

Shay nodded. "He’s got to be furious.”

“Because of us,” Inna muttered.

Rede winced. She had known Ronan would face backlash, but she never expected it to happen this soon. Guilt settled in the pit of her stomach, thick and dark as tar.

“He must really be on our asses,” said Thanh. “That was a really fast turnaround.”

“Not just that,” Shay said grimly. “He’s angry enough to not leave when the cops show up.”

Rede rubbed her temples. “Shay, I don’t know that much about the whole jacker thing, so correct me if I’m wrong, but Ducky’s whole reaction here seems way out of line.” Even for someone like Ducky, it seemed odd to go this far: Shay was one person who had wronged him one time. Granted, she’d never said exactly what she did to upset him, but Rede couldn’t think of anything she could have done that would inspire Ducky to make himself an enemy of the police.

“I’ve been wondering if he had a real stake in this situation for a while now,” Mara said.

Shay nodded. “At this point, he’s got to.”

Thanh frowned, visibly suppressing a shiver as she zipped up her jacket. “If he’s willing to risk making them his enemy, then the stakes here must be crazy high.”

Rede didn’t want to be the one to say it, but someone had to. “Do you think he’s the one behind…you know?” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence; there was just too much to pack in. Killed Drew and probably Lacey, orchestrated some sort of secret plot, found a hidden location outside of town to conduct mysterious evil operations — and that was just the things they knew about.

Shay looked grim. “To be honest, I don’t think he’s smart enough to handle something large-scale.”

“But he’s involved,” Mara said. Her tone brooked no argument, and Rede couldn’t think of a compelling one anyway.

“Assuming he does have Mimi,” Thanh said slowly, “that probably gives him a reason to keep her alive.”

Thanh was probably right, though that wasn’t much comfort. Mimi would be useful as ransom or a source of information herself, meaning Ducky wouldn’t kill her. If he wanted intel badly enough, though, he might come close.

That did also assume Ducky intended to negotiate, which didn’t seem very likely in light of the shootout that he’d okayed just a couple hours earlier.

“What if he’s trying to lure us in?” Inna’s foot beat a nervous rhythm on the floor. “You know, enticing us back to Ronan?”

The others paused, mulling it over. Rede had to admit, Inna’s idea made sense: the crew would head back to Ronan, looking to help him out. Ducky could station jackers around Ronan’s territory and intercept the crew as they got close, then use Mimi as a bargaining chip. What exactly he wanted wasn’t clear yet — information? Help of some sort? A promise for them to leave him alone? — but no matter what he asked, if he had their friend as a hostage, Ducky was sure to get it.

“Not a bad plan, if it’s true,” Mara muttered. Judging by her pained expression, she had drawn the same conclusion as Rede.

Thanh grimaced. “It’s gonna work, isn’t it?”

The dark circles under Mara’s eyes seemed to deepen as she spoke. “If talking to Ducky is what’ll get Mimi back, then yeah, I don’t see any other option.”

“We could try and bust her out,” Inna said halfheartedly.

Shay sighed. “We don’t even know where she is.”

“The cops might.” Inna looked pained. Rede felt a stab of pity — even now, he was trying to stay optimistic.

“I don’t know about you,” Mara said, “but I want Mimi back.” She crossed her arms, staring Inna down with eyes both sharpened by anger and swimming with tears.

Inna’s shoulders drooped. “Yeah, I do too.” He rubbed his temples.

“Into the trap it is, then,” Shay muttered.