Annakel
They don’t do it in the tech suite.
Annakel insists on that, and Alexander—after one long second that feels like a test—nods and obeys.
Viktor pulls them back into the hallway, moving fast, barking into his earpiece. Marek grabs the mirrored drive and the relevant logs. The captured tech is zip-tied and left breathing on the floor with a promise that if he moves, he disappears.
They descend the stairs and cut into a side corridor that leads to an empty office unit. No cameras. No windows. Bare concrete. A single steel table and two chairs, like a place meant for decisions nobody wants recorded.
Viktor checks the door and stands outside it with Marek. “Three minutes,” Viktor says, voice flat. “Then we move.”
Annakel’s throat tightens at the countdown.
Inside the room, it’s ju
