The federal safe house was unlike anything Adrian had expected. Located in an anonymous building in the financial district, it was equipped with state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, secure communication systems, and enough armed agents to hold off a small military. Adrian sat in a conference room with a cold cup of coffee in front of him, watching Special Agent Catherine Wells arrange photographs and documents on the table.
Wells was in her mid-fifties, with steel-gray hair and the weathered appearance of someone who'd spent decades chasing people who didn't want to be found. She moved methodically, building a narrative through images and evidence the way a prosecutor would build a case.
"Dr. Sterling didn't disappear randomly," Wells began, pointing to a photograph of Dr. Sterling b
