“We don’t have three minutes,” Marco replied, his voice strained. “Two more vehicles just pulled into the front lot. They are blocking the street.”

“Take the pedestrian path toward the transit line,” Ryker ordered.

“On it,” Marco said.

The line went dead with a sharp hiss of static.

The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

I lowered the brass paperweight but did not set it down.

My heart was hammering against my ribs.

On the floor, the tied-up intruder let out a raspy laugh.

We both looked down at him.

His face was bruised, a thin trickle of blood drying near his temple.

He was wearing a dark tactical jacket with no insignia.

“You think you can keep them?” the man whispered, his voice mocking.

Ryker walked around the desk, his steps slow and deliberate.

He stopped right above the man, looking down with cold, dark eyes.

“Who sent you?” Ryker asked.

“You know who,” the man spat, a bloody smile spreading across his face. “You think you’re the only one with power in this city, Steel?”

“Gideon Voss,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline.