Marcus stood waiting near the end of the corridor, arms folded, eyes sharp.
“He talked?” he asked.
I gave a tight nod. “Just enough.”
“The black ring and dragon tattoo?”
“Yeah.” I looked at Marcus. “Find every known criminal, agent, mercenary, and ghost in the underground with a dragon tattoo and a black ring. I want a list by tonight.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Marcus—” I added, stopping as I reached him. “Double the security. If this masked bastard is watching, he’ll know Damon’s alive. And he’ll want him dead before he says too much.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”
I walked past him, down the hall and into the war room. The lights inside flickered to life as I entered. I sat down heavily, opened the folder labeled “B-67 Blacklist,” and began scanning.
It had been over a week sinc
