Marcus sent a short message: North Port Parking Lot 3, Level B2. Meet me in two hours. Come alone.
Avery checked the location. It was a derelict parking garage near the old industrial zone, not far from White Oak. No cameras. No security. It was a place designed for secret meetings or for someone to disappear.
By 10:45 PM, she arrived.
The ground level held only a few cars thick with dust; Level B1 was an empty concrete cavern. She parked her car near the B2 entrance, keeping the engine running.
In the southeast corner of B2, a horn blared once. A white cargo van flashed its headlights. Avery stepped out of her car, her footsteps echoing off the damp walls. The air was heavy with the smell of stagnant oil and rot.
Marcus leaned out from the side of the van. He had been beaten; his lef
