"Check the perimeter. He didn't vanish into the ventilation shafts," the lead enforcer barked, his voice muffled behind a ballistic visor. "If he’s still in the sector, he’s headed for the shipyard. Lockdown the gates. Nobody leaves the industrial zone until I have that drive."Caevrik didn't wait for them to finish their sweep. He slithered through a narrow gap between the shipping containers, his boots making no sound on the grease-stained floor. He needed air, distance, and a way to disappear into the labyrinth of the Lowside. The archive was a death trap, and he’d barely crawled out with his life."Jace, do you copy?" Caevrik whispered into his comms.Static. Pure, agonizing white noise."Damn it," he hissed, sliding behind a row of rusted hydraulic presses. He checked his sidearm—empty. He’d spent his last magazine suppressing the guards in the lobby ten minutes ago. Now, he was a ghost carrying a bomb, hunted by men who didn't know the meani

"You look like a drowned rat, Caevrik," Velk said, his voice cutting through the drumming rain with surgical precision.Caevrik didn't flinch. He stayed low, fingers ghosting over a jagged, rusted pipe protruding from the hull. "And you look like a man who’s lost his favorite toy. Looking for the ledger, Detective? Or are you just here to make sure I don't breathe the same air as your superiors anymore?"Velk didn't holster his weapon. He stepped closer, the water splashing beneath his heavy boots. "The ledger is evidence in an ongoing criminal investigation. Hand it over, and you might actually live to see the inside of a courtroom instead of a shallow grave in the harbor.""A courtroom?" Caevrik laughed, a dry, hacking sound that ended in a cough. "Which one? The one on the Northside where the judges have Krossel stock options in their personal safe-deposit boxes, or the one where the jury is composed of men whose families you’ve personally intimidated i