I clicked on the database icon, and a long list of names and photographs appeared.

I began to read through the profiles, taking notes on the associates’ families.

After an hour, a red notification icon began to flash in the corner of the screen.

It was an encrypted file transfer from an external server.

I clicked the flashing icon, expecting another associate profile.

The screen loaded a digitized intelligence report on rival operations.

I scrolled down past the financial ledgers and logistics maps.

At the bottom of the document was a photograph of a man entering a warehouse on the South Side.

The name beneath the photo read ‘Marcus Vance’.

But the face in the picture belonged to James Donovan.

I stared at the glowing screen, my fingers freezing over the trackpad.

The man in the photo had the same crooked nose and slight smirk I had spent two years trying to forget.

It was James.

He was wearing a dark wool coat, walking into a brick warehouse with two men in heavy jackets.

The caption beneath the image labeled him as Marcus Vance, an operative for the Moretti family.