Grey stared at the encrypted files spread across his desk, each document bearing the crimson classification stamp that meant only a handful of people in the world were authorized to read them. The afternoon sun cast long shadows through his office windows, but he barely noticed as his mind worked through the implications of what lay before him.
"Sir?" Kent's voice broke through his concentration. "Agent Brian still hasn't reported in. It's been three days now."
Grey looked up from the files, his expression grim. "Three days since the Pale Fang rejection was sent out," he said quietly. "That's not a coincidence."
The intercom on his desk buzzed suddenly, and Quinn's voice came through clear and professional. "Director, we have a situation developing downtown. Multiple energy signatures detected near the Grand Hotel district."
"Energy signatures?" Grey asked, pressing the response button.
