Page 71 of Peak’s Code

"No." Both Peak and Maeve answered together.

Warden frowned. "What now?"

Peak looked toward the shattered window. "They're expecting us."

"So?" Warden asked.

"So Captain told us to run."

Maeve nodded slowly. "He wasn't telling us to abandon him."

"He was warning us,” Peak agreed.

"About what?" Warden asked.

Peak answered. "The warehouse." He walked slowly across the room. "If the Director wants Maeve, they don't need Captain."

Warden's eyes widened. "You think he's bait."

"I know he is."

Maeve looked down. "And I'm the hook."

Peak stopped directly in front of her. "No."

She met his eyes. "They're using me."

"They're trying to, but they only win if you stop thinking,” he said. She smiled faintly, and the burner phone vibrated. All three of them looked at it, and nobody moved. It vibrated again, and Peak picked it up to find one text message.

ONE HOUR

There was nothing else. No coordinates or instructions—just a countdown.

Maeve frowned. "That's different."

Peak nodded. "They've changed the game. They want us to second-guess ourselves.”

"No." He looked at her. "They want us to move. It’s easier to hit moving targets,” Maeve said.

Warden slammed another shell into his shotgun. "I'm getting real tired of these people."

Peak almost smiled. "So am I, brother."

Maeve picked up the coded strip Captain had left behind and stared at it. "Tide Before Dawn."

Peak watched her. "You've got something."

"I think—” She turned the strip over. "My grandfather always checked the tide tables."

Peak frowned. "So?"

"So if this is literal—” She looked at him. "There's only one tide before dawn."

Peak understood immediately. “It’s a shipping schedule."

She nodded excitedly. "Not a location, but a time."

He pulled the map back up. "Cargo leaves with the tide, because larger boats need deeper water."