FAZER LOGINDamian’s POV“I want a place on the entry team.” I kept my voice level while the operations commander marked the property approaches on the screen.He glanced toward me. “You are not law enforcement.”“I know the security contractor, I know Victor’s corporate habits, and I have spent weeks working these records.”“You also have no authority to enter that property.”“I did not ask for authority. I asked where I can be useful.”Elena sat two chairs away with one hand resting beneath the curve of her stomach. She had refused to leave the command room despite another episode of abdominal pain that morning.“You can remain with the coordination team,” the commander said. “If we need context on Victor or Cross records, we will ask.”“I can do more from the field.”“Elena’s father needs professionals entering that house.”“I am aware of that.”Elena turned her head toward me. “Then stop trying to turn this into a contest.”“I am not competing with anyone.”“You are negotiating with a man who
Michael’s POV “You have been inside that property before.” The federal investigator turned the photograph toward me and kept one finger against the lower edge. I studied the image again. The house itself meant nothing to me, although the security installation did. A camera mounted beneath the roofline carried a housing I had seen on three other properties Victor had used through intermediaries, and the gate controller had the same narrow keypad beside a biometric plate. “I have never been inside this house.” I tapped the security panel in the photograph. “I know who installed that system.” The investigator beside him opened her notebook. “Who?” “Rooke Strategic Protection. They do private residential work under several corporate names, and Victor has used them when he wants security that never touches his own companies.” “You hired them?” “Years ago, for a Henderson facility in Brussels. Victor’s connection came later.” The man across from me watched my face as though regret
Elena’s POV“The original image contains more detail than the copy displayed on your phone.” The analyst enlarged the recovered file across the security monitor. “Compression obscured the lower symbols, although the source retained enough information to reconstruct most of them.”I stood beside the table with Adrian’s childhood notation guide open on my tablet.I had found it in a box Williams security brought from my old family storage that morning. Richard had told me my father turned mathematics into games whenever travel kept him away from home too long, leaving puzzles in my schoolbooks and hotel rooms.“Show the bottom line.”The analyst increased the contrast.Two digits appeared beneath Adrian’s hand.“Forty-three,” I said.Damian sat across from me with a separate copy of the sequence. “Does that complete the longitude?”“Part of it.”Agent Mercer pointed to the final symbol. “And that?”“Direction.”“North?”“Not exactly. Richard told me Adrian used that mark for ‘reverse be
Elena’s POV “Do not reply until the tracing team is ready.” Agent Mercer sat across from me in the Williams security room, the photograph of my father still open on the isolated screen. “Victor may expect immediate emotion. Delay is useful if we control it.” “I am not interested in performing panic for him.” “I am interested in keeping him engaged long enough to make mistakes.” I looked at Adrian’s photograph again. He had a pencil in his right hand. The page on his lap contained six lines of equations. “Can you enlarge the lower half?” The analyst did, and one symbol was blurred near Adrian’s wrist. “What are you looking for?” Damian asked from beside the far table. “Anything my father would not write by accident.” Agent Mercer glanced toward me. “You think he is communicating?” “I think Adrian has spent years using mathematics when ordinary memory fails him. I am not assuming anything until I understand the page.” My phone rang through the secured relay, an unknown numbe
Damian’s POV “Do not tell Elena to stay here,” I said to the Williams security director before he could finish the sentence forming on his face. “She has already heard enough people decide where she belongs.” Elena stood beside the operations table at Adrian’s residence, reading the breach timeline herself. “I was not going to tell her that,” the director said. “You were looking at me as though I should.” “I was looking at you because her doctor called her ten minutes ago and asked her to avoid unnecessary physical strain.” “Elena heard the same medical advice I did.” She looked up from the report. “If the two of you have finished discussing my uterus as a security variable, tell me how my father left a guarded residence.” The director turned toward her. “At fourteen twenty-three, the rear service gate opened under a valid maintenance authorization. Two men entered in a contracted medical-services vehicle.” “Which contractor?” “The credentials identify Northline Clinical T
Elena’s POV “The baby’s heartbeat is strong.” Dr. Patel kept the monitor angled toward me while she reviewed the tracing. “What happened yesterday sounds consistent with uterine irritability, although I want closer monitoring from this point forward.” I looked at the line moving across the screen. “Does that mean preterm labor?” “It means I am watching for it. Your cervix is stable today, which is reassuring, and the pain settled without progressive contractions.” Damian sat in the chair I had told him he could use. “What changes would require her to come in immediately?” he asked. “Regular painful contractions, bleeding, fluid leakage, significant pelvic pressure, or a noticeable reduction in fetal movement.” Dr. Patel entered a note into my chart. “I am giving Elena written instructions before she leaves.” “Thank you.” “What do you mean by closer monitoring?” I asked. “More frequent appointments, periodic growth scans, and a lower threshold for assessment if symptoms retur







