Ral's mind worked through cascading scenarios with the cold precision that had made him valuable to CIA—not despite his terror, but channeling it into analytical clarity. His captors had made a critical error, one born from underestimating what analysts actually did.
They thought he was simply a decoder. A human key to unlock Marcus's files.
They didn't understand that analysts were professional pattern recognizers who spent careers finding hidden connections in incomplete data.
"I need a computer," Ral said, opening his eyes with feigned defeat. "The access codes are embedded in encrypted files. I can't extract them without proper equipment."
The man studied him with professional skepticism. "You will work under observation. Any attempt at communication or sabotage will result in imme
