The building was a monument to the old ways—a sprawling complex in Brussels' diplomatic quarter that had been off the grid for years. Rook stood across the street, his eyes fixed on the iron gates, the weight of the next step pressing down on him like something that had been waiting for this exact moment.
Wick's intelligence had been precise. The final thread led here—to the heart of the old system, to the place where the legacy networks had been born. This wasn't just another safehouse or command center. This was the origin. The place where the partnership had been conceived, where the old guard had been forged, where the conspiracy had begun.
Sergei moved up beside him, his voice low and careful. "The surveillance is in place. We've got eyes on all the exits. But there's something diff
