The smell of brine, sulfur, and rusted saltwater iron rose from the concrete floor of the abandoned drainage culvert beneath Newark Bay. Elena adjusted the strap of her tactical headset, the Kevlar vest snug against her ribs beneath a dark windbreaker. Beside her, Marco moved with the lethal, predatory quiet of a creature born to the dark. Ten yards ahead, Matteo knelt at the base of a corroded iron hatch,…
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