Rain sheeted down over the shipping district, drumming on corrugated roofs and pooling in cracked asphalt. Adrian led Elena through a maze of containers, his grip steady on her wrist. They’d ditched the ferry tunnels two hours ago, cut across half the city on foot, and now crouched behind a stack of pallets outside a shuttered warehouse.
“This is it?” she whispered.
He nodded. “They’ll be watching. Damian’s phone has a tracker. We’ll use it.”
She glanced at the battered phone in his pocket. “You’re luring them here.”
“That’s the idea,” he said. “End it on our terms.”
She hugged the jacket tighter around herself. “And what happens after we ‘end it’?”
“Extraction,” he said simply. “If Calloway got the upload out, my people will move in. If not…” His jaw tightened. “We improvise.”
She
