The rain in Zurich was a relentless, icy drizzle that blurred the neon lights of the banking district into smears of oily color. It was the night before the wedding, a time that should have been reserved for quiet reflection or final celebratory toasts. Instead, Kai stood in the shadows of a derelict loading dock on the edge of the Limmat river, his breath hitching as he pressed a gloved hand against his side. The mission had been simple in its briefing: locate and neutralize a high level informant who had defected from Ethel Bowie’s inner circle to the Eigar faction. But in the world of espionage, simplicity was a lie told to keep the soldiers moving.
The informant had been waiting with three hired mercenaries. The struggle had been brief, brutal, and fought in the suffocating dark of a
