Ten minutes earlier, on the rain-slicked northbound lanes of the FDR Drive, violence had erupted with military precision. Vivienne sat in the rear passenger cabin of Christian's armored Mercedes-Maybach, looking out the tinted window as the Manhattan skyline blurred past. Beside the driver sat Dante King, his earpiece humming with encrypted chatter as they navigated the heavy afternoon traffic, heading toward Foley Square to meet Christian. "We are four minutes…
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