Three months after Bangkok, Amara receives an encrypted message that stops her cold during a routine morning briefing.
"Sir, I need you to see this," she says, sliding her tablet across the table toward Dr. Voss, her hand steadier than the anxiety visible in her eyes.
The message contains no greeting, no signature, just a photograph of Amara entering her apartment building the previous evening, followed by a single line of text.
*You dismantled our operational network. You didn't dismantle us. Consider your family in Vienna, your family back home. We remember everyone.*
Dr. Voss reads it twice, expression hardening. "This is a direct threat. I'm activating emergency protocol immediately."
Amara calls our family within the hour, voice carefully controlled despite the genuine fear under
