Two days later, the rain came.
Not snow. Not sleet. Rain—constant, cold, and unrelenting. It hammered against the windshield as Regan and Lila sat parked across from a nondescript Lancaster Holdings annex building in West Haven, Connecticut. The city beyond was shrouded in shadow and gray, blurred like a half-forgotten memory. The steady rhythm on the roof became the backdrop to their next mission.
The building itself was innocuous—gray stone, narrow windows, a corporate ghost with an unimpressive facade. But Regan had identified it as a secondary data transfer hub connected to Kingmaker’s activity, the same location that Dorian Kess’s biometric feed had last pinged from. Surveillance, behavioral logging, maybe even manual override terminals—this was the nerve center hidden in plain sigh
