OLIVER
The warrant is signed at 4:12 in the morning, and Anny decides where she will be before anyone can decide for her.
Roberta’s formal statement, the courier code on the original rider, and the payment trail through the compromised technician have given the judge enough to authorize the search.
“I’m staying at the command center with my attorney,” she says. “I don’t need to enter a dark warehouse to prove I’m part of this. I need the same information at the same time.”
The prosecutor arranges a secure feed from the officers’ body cameras. Every photograph and inventory entry will appear on her screen as it is recorded. Anny checks the connection herself, then looks at me.
“Go.”
The warehouse stands behind a row of abandoned factories north of the city. Dawn is still a gray stain
