Sarah had stopped being afraid two days ago.
Instead, she'd become angry.
She was sitting in an FBI briefing room in Salt Lake City, looking at surveillance photographs of Ken Blake. Blake outside her hotel. Blake in a coffee shop where Sarah had been two hours before. Blake mapping out her movements with the same meticulous precision that a predator uses to track prey.
"He's stalking you," Detective Perkins said, stating the obvious.
"He's trying to scare me," Sarah corrected. "Which means I'm useful. Which means I can be useful to you."
Martinez looked at Sarah with something resembling respect. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Sarah said, "that Blake wants to use me to get to James. Blake thinks I'm James's vulnerability. So let me be James's vulnerability. Let me be the bait."
"Absolutely not," Agent Chen said immediately. "We're not using civilians as bait."
"I'm already the bait," Sarah said bluntly. "Blake has chosen me. Blake is watching me. The only question is whether we use that strategically or whether we just let him take another shot at me while he tries to get to James."
Sarah leaned forward. She'd thought about this for days. She'd thought about it while trying to sleep. She'd thought about it in the FBI safe house, surrounded by protection that might or might not be adequate.
"Here's what I think happens," Sarah said. "Blake is going to try to grab me. He's going to think that if he has me, James will come out of protection to save me. Blake doesn't understand that James has already learned not to do that. James has already learned that meeting Blake only gets people killed."
"So?" Martinez asked.
"So if you let Blake try, if you let him think he has a chance to grab me, he'll expose himself," Sarah said. "He'll move in public. He'll make a move. And you'll be able to stop him."
Perkins and Chen exchanged looks. This was not a standard witness protection protocol. This was asking Sarah to volunteer to be targeted.
"I need to think about this," Martinez said. "I need to consult with my supervisors."
But Sarah could see that Martinez was already convinced. Sarah could see that Martinez understood the logic: they'd been chasing Blake reactively. It was time to make Blake react instead.
Two days later, the plan was approved.
Sarah would maintain her public schedule. She would go to the bookstore where she'd been working. She would visit the coffee shops she frequented. She would do everything exactly as she'd been doing, except now she'd be wired with a microphone and GPS tracking. FBI agents would be positioned at every location she visited.
Blake would either take the bait or he wouldn't.
"Are you sure about this?" James asked when Sarah told him.
"No," Sarah said honestly. "But I'm tired of being protected. I'm tired of being afraid. I want to do something."
James understood. He'd reached a similar point—the decision to become part of the solution rather than part of the problem.
"If something happens," James said, "if Blake grabs you or hurts you—"
"He won't," Sarah said. "Because I'm not going to let him. Because I understand him better now. Because I've watched what Blake does, and I know his patterns, and I'm ready."
Sarah's first day on the surveillance plan, she went to the bookstore where she worked.
She felt the weight of the microphone against her ribs. She felt the GPS tracker in her pocket. She felt the presence of FBI agents positioned throughout the store, pretending to be customers.
She worked her shift. She shelved books. She helped customers find titles they were looking for. She moved through her day with the practiced normalcy of someone who'd learned to perform competence even when internally terrified.
Blake didn't appear.
Neither did he appear on day two, or day three.
By day five, Sarah was beginning to think that maybe Blake had abandoned his plans. Maybe Blake had moved on. Maybe the threat was diminishing.
Then, on day six, something changed.
A letter arrived at the bookstore addressed to Sarah. It was sealed, unmarked except for her name. The FBI's bomb detection dog cleared it. Inside was a single page of handwritten text.
"Sarah—I know what you're doing. I know about the FBI protection. I know about the tracking device in your pocket. I know about the agents in the coffee shops and the surveillance cameras. But what you don't know is that I don't care anymore. I'm not coming for you. I'm coming for James. And I'm going to do it in a way that no amount of protection can stop. —K"
Sarah read the letter and felt something crystallize inside her.
Blake wasn't going to make it easy. Blake wasn't going to give them a clear moment to intercept him. Blake had accepted that he'd likely be caught or killed, and he'd decided that all that mattered was reaching James one more time.
Sarah brought the letter to Martinez.
"He's accepted his endgame," Martinez said quietly, reading the words. "Blake knows he's going to lose. He just wants to take James with him."
"Or hurt him," Sarah said. "He doesn't necessarily have to kill James. He just has to make sure James suffers."
Martinez nodded. "This is why we need to move forward with the public event. We need to draw Blake out. We need to force him to act on a timeline where we have control."
The night before the planned event, Sarah sat with James in the safe house.
They didn't talk much. They just sat together in the quiet, understanding that tomorrow everything would change. Tomorrow Blake would come or he wouldn't. Tomorrow one of them might be dead. Tomorrow the story would reach its conclusion, one way or another.
"Thank you," James said eventually.
"For what?" Sarah asked.
"For staying," James said. "For not running away from this like Marcus did. For being willing to put yourself in danger to help me."
"I stayed because I needed to," Sarah said. "Marcus was right to leave. But I needed to stay. I needed to do something. I needed to matter in this situation instead of just being a victim in it."
James reached over and took Sarah's hand. It was the first time they'd touched in a way that suggested something beyond friendship, beyond survival. It suggested connection. It suggested the possibility of something more.
"Whatever happens tomorrow," James said, "I want you to know that having you here has meant everything. Not just for this situation. But for me. For who I'm becoming."
Sarah squeezed his hand. She didn't need to say anything. They both understood what was being communicated.
Martinez briefed both of them in the morning.
"The event is at 2 PM," Martinez said. "It's a press conference where Cornell is announcing your hiring. It's at a public venue. Blake will see it. Blake will likely try to make an appearance."
"And if he doesn't?" James asked.
"Then we've lost the advantage and we go back to hunting him traditionally," Martinez said. "But I think he will. I think Blake is going to come. I think Blake has accepted that this is his last chance."
James nodded. Sarah squeezed his hand one more time.
Then they prepared for what would either be the end of the story or the beginning of something new.
Outside, FBI agents took their positions. Sniper teams were positioned on rooftops. Plainclothes agents mingled with press and observers. Tactical units waited in vehicles nearby.
Everything was ready.
Now they just had to wait for Blake to make his move.