The tracking beacon embedded within the platinum-and-sapphire choker around Clara’s neck pinged Arthur’s tactical console at 8:12 AM: *COORDINATES LOCKED: PIER 14, RED HOOK WATERFRONT.* When Julian Vance received the transmission, his world turned to liquid fire. He did not wait for the FBI tactical teams. He did not wait for the police commissioner. Within four minutes, Julian’s private security strike force—comprising twelve former Tier-One special forces operators in unmarked…
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