The rhythmic lapping of the dark Atlantic water against the rusted pilons of Pier 42 provided a somber soundtrack as the high-intensity adrenaline of the confrontation began to ebb. Liam Livingston stood amidst the unconscious bodies of the grave robbers, the cold harbor wind whipping at the edges of his coat. He slowly lowered his smartphone, the screen’s glow fading as he tucked it back into his pocket.
"It’s done," Liam said, his voice steady despite the surreal c*****e surrounding them. "I’ve spoken with your dispatch. Your colleagues are mobilized and should be touching down at this location within thirty minutes."
Officer Miller did not immediately respond. She lay against the cold concrete, her body still partially claimed by the numbing effects of the Paralysis Draft. Her eyes, h
