Outside, our SUV pulled up to the rusted chain-link fence of the storage facility.

The engine idled quietly in the rain.

“Stay here,” I told Nadia, my hand on the door handle.

“Elena, please,” she begged, holding my sleeve. “Let Greg go in first.”

“If Vance sees a man he doesn’t know, he’ll run,” I said. “He expects me. Alone.”

I opened the door and stepped out into the cold, wet air.

The rain immediately soaked through my coat, but I barely felt it.

I walked toward the side entrance of the warehouse, my heart thumping against my ribs.

The door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open, the metal hinges groaning loudly.

The warehouse was dark, except for a single light bulb hanging near the back.

I heard voices, low and urgent, coming from the shadows.

“I have the drive,” Vance was saying, his voice high-pitched with fear. “It’s all on here. The bank routing numbers, the authorization codes. Everything.”

“And the name?” another voice asked.

It was Marco’s voice.

I froze in the doorway, my boots slipping slightly on the wet concrete.