Lucian confirmed the location at hour thirty-one.
The shell corporations had a filing error on the third layer, a registered agent address that matched a property in the Caruso-adjacent account Vincent had flagged six months ago. When that thread pulled, everything behind it came with it: the parcel, the structures, the access roads, the land registry going back eleven years to an original purchase under a name that didn't exist anymore.
Val had the location on her screen at 9 a.m.
By 9:04, she was walking to the medical wing.
---
Vincent was not in the medical wing.
He was in the war room.
Not the chair-adjacent-to-the-bed version of upright. Fully upright, standing at the map table, dressed, with that stillness that meant he'd been there long enough to absorb everything on the surface and was now working on what wasn't.
