The Black Forest at night was not merely a forest; it was a cathedral of shadow, ancient and indifferent to the modern wars of men. The Aegis convoy moved through the winding ribbons of the Baden-Baden pass with their lights extinguished, relying on thermal imaging and the silver glow of a waning moon. The air here was heavy, scented with damp pine needles and the cold, metallic tang of the coming snow.
Seraphina sat in the lead SUV, her tablet tethered to a satellite uplink that flickered with every pass beneath the dense canopy. Beside her, Alessandro was a statue of coiled tension. He had replaced his evening wear with a tactical kit, the matte-black ceramic plates of his vest making him look broader, more lethal—a return to the warlord she had first met in the Sicilian grotto.
"The p
