The Key to Oblivion
Reykjavik was cold, dark, and windy. Marcus stood in the shadow of a geothermal plant, watching the hotel across the street. It was a modern glass building, all sharp angles and blue lights. A luxury chain. Dozens of locations across Europe. Every key card they issued contained dormant code. When the trigger came, guests would lose their memories while they slept. Claire pulled her coat tighter. “How many hotels?” “Thirty-seven. Across nine countries. Thousands of rooms.” Damian scanned the roof. “No visible guards. But the building has its own security.” “We go in. Disable the server. Arrest Dr. Bergman.” “The server is on the top floor,” Nikolai said through the earpiece. “Penthouse suite. She’s been living there for months.” “Then we take the elevator.” --- The lobby was warm,
- Writer
