The Provincial Inspectorate had finalized the resolution to investigate Chester Preston only last night, and by dawn, the man was a shattered mess on the pavement.
Ambrose Ward felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. His gaze turned sharp, his mind working with the cold precision of a high-end processor. In the world of high-stakes administration, a timing this perfect wasn't a coincidence. To put it formally, the Provincial Inspectorate's information security had suffered a catastrophic breach. To put it bluntly: there was a double-dealer in the heart of the provincial brass, a "mole" who had whispered a death sentence into Chester’s ear before the investigators could even draw their breath.
Suddenly, the reason behind Donovan Bell’s decision to catapult him into the O
