The message arrived at midnight.
Vance was in the command center, reviewing intelligence reports from the Sentinel Network's South American division. The remnants were scattered, leaderless, broken. The war was winding down.
His phone buzzed. Unknown number. Encrypted.
He answered. "Yeah."
"Mr. Cole." The voice was female, cold, familiar. "I have information you need."
"Who is this?"
"My name is Jinx. I believe we've met before."
Vance's blood went cold. "Jinx? You're dead."
"I'm very hard to kill. You should know that by now."
"What do you want?"
"I want to offer you a deal. Information about a new threat. Something even more dangerous than anything you've faced."
"I'm listening."
"Not over the phone. Meet me in person. There's a cabin in the Canadian wilderness. I'll send you
