S.A.S.
Mezzanine Office — 23:57
Wolf pried open a dented grey cabinet with a screwdriver masquerading as a crowbar. The lock surrendered like wet paper. Bruno leaned in, whistled low.
“Santa Maria.”
Rows of laminated cards glinted under the strip light: port gate passes, customs seals, magnetic clips stamped with half a dozen government logos. Beside them, three burner satphones in shrink wrap; a fourth, powered, blinking a lonely green.
“Take it,” Wolf said.
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