The war room was thick with tension as Dr. Cross spread a weathered map across the central table, its edges frayed with age.
James leaned forward, his eyes tracing the markings that covered the paper. They weren't military symbols or tactical notations—they were something else entirely. Names, dates, locations, all connected by a web of lines that seemed to pulse with hidden meaning.
"Marcus Webb is not a man who stays in one place," Dr. Cross said, her voice low and measured. "He moves constantly, never spending more than a few weeks in any location. But he has patterns. He always returns to certain places, certain memories."
Harper studied the map, her brow furrowed. "What kind of patterns?"
Dr. Cross pointed to several marked locations. "These are places that hold significance for h
