Water dripped from ancient stone as Alex led them deeper into the storm tunnels beneath Monaco. The passage narrowed, forcing them to move single file – James in the lead with his gun drawn, Sonia in the middle, and Alex taking the rear, his mind racing.
Martinez, not Martelli. The discrepancy nagged at him. If the vault files contained such a basic error about Sonia's family name, what else might be incorrect?
"The tunnel branches ahead," James called back, his voice echoing slightly. "Which way?"
Alex consulted his mental map of the underground network. "Left. It'll take us toward the marina."
As they navigated the damp corridor, Alex watched Sonia's silhouette. Her shoulders were tense, her movements measured – the posture of someone whose world had just collapsed. If she was acting
