The cold winter night brought a sudden, desperate escalation from Victor Hale's underground network. At 2:45 AM, while the Brooklyn safehouse was wrapped in silence, the perimeter optical sensors along the alleyway triggered an automated silent alarm in the central security hub. Ethan Cross was awake instantly, moving with silent tactical speed across the loft, drawing his service weapon as he activated the external infrared monitors. On the screen, two…
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