In a high-rise office across the city, a man named Clement Voss poured himself a drink. He was one of the men who had ordered the hit on the Jaysons—a political fixer, a cleaner of dirty secrets. He hadn't thought about that night in years. To him, it was just another job, another loose end tied.
But someone was untying the knots.
Voss didn't notice the small drone hovering outside his window. Didn't see the signal being intercepted. Didn't know someone was watching.
From an abandoned building across the street, Matherson adjusted the zoom on his scope. He wasn't going to kill Voss—not yet. First, he needed names. A trail. And he knew exactly how to make men like Voss talk.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a flash drive—the same one he had taken from his father's burned study all those years ago. Inside it was proof—enough to destroy reputations, governments, empires.
But he didn't want destruction.
He wanted them to feel what he felt.
Loss.
Fear.
Pain.
One by one.