They reached the courthouse ten minutes before three. The plaza was a knot of suits, clipboards, and the kind of cameras that behave like they’re invisible. Nora fed them updates from the curb, one eye on her tablet and the other on the marble steps.
“Vault tag pinged,” she said. “Private depository on Lemaire. The Atlas box is inside a safe labeled Prym Logistics. Leaseholder of record is a shell Renzo likes. If we want a mirror of the drive, I can work a hallway cam and a maintenance relay, but I’ll need someone’s hands on the ground.”
Rafael looked at Emilia. He didn’t need to ask. She nodded once.
“Split,” she said. “I’ll sit through the judge’s show. Take Elena if she’ll answer.”
Nora was already dialing. “She answered. Meet her on Lemaire by the bike rack with the missing seat.”
