She found Niela waiting at the cross-pipe with a lit candle. “That police reader was here,” Niela said, tension in every line of her body. Reese slowed to a stop. Water rushed by a few feet to the side, draining from three pipes into a single larger tunnel. “Arrow?” Please, not Stryker. “Did he say why?” How did he know we were here? Niela nodded. The candlelight flickered across her face, highlighting the tight look around her eyes. “He said ‘the police will be sweeping the gutters soon.’” She studied Reese. “Does that mean what I think it does?” Cold clamped down on Reese’s heart. She removed the holster from beneath her shirt and re-strapped it to her leg. “They’re going to search the canals.” She started toward the mouth of the bigger tunnel. “Where is everyone?” “Lacewing’s out on the west end,” Niela said. Her voice sounded strained.
