The tenth floor of Takahashi Tower felt like a morgue.Ichiro didn't touch the tea cooling in front of him. His gnarled hands were clamped over the silver crook of his cherrywood cane, white-knuckled and stone-still.Ryota, Tanaka, and Michiko stood in a tight semi-circle before the ebony desk. None of them looked at each other."Give it to me straight," Ichiro said, his voice deadly low. "Where is Venus?"Ryota swallowed, keeping his chin tucked against his collar. "Gone, Chairman. The manifest we tracked was a dummy run. By the time we caught the real transport, he'd already cleared two borders under a different name.""Then pull him back," Ichiro snapped. "Burn whatever favors we have.""We can't," Michiko broke in, tapping her tablet with a steady, dry click. "He's swapped identities more than once already. The trail's buried under enough diplomatic cover that we won't pin him down this week. Maybe not this month."The cane came down against the hardwood floor, hard. The sound was
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