The retaliation came less than forty-eight hours later.
I was in the safehouse with Ethan, reviewing the preliminary financial data Nia had pulled from Marcus Lin's public corporate filings. The room was dim. Only one desk lamp was on. It threw a yellow circle on the papers and left the corners in shadow.
The air smelled like old coffee that had been sitting too long, printer ink, and the faint metal of the filing cabinets. The AC was off to keep the sound down. It was warm. The warmth sat on my skin.
Outside, traffic moved far away. Muffled.
My burner phone vibrated violently against the table. The wood made a low buzzing sound. _Bzzzz._ It jumped a little with each pulse.
It was Superintendent Cho.
I answered the call. "Superintendent. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Her voice came through immediately. It wasn't authoritative or angry.
