“But he is lazy when he is angry. He didn’t mask the local gateway for this stream.”

Adrian watched me, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the dashboard.

“Explain,” he said.

“The video stream is live-broadcasting from a local IP address,” I said, zooming in on the packet header.

“The MAC address of the camera matches the router registered to Vance Logistics.”

“The rival syndicate’s front company,” Adrian noted.

“Yes. And the signal strength is maximum right now.”

I looked up, staring through the rain-slicked windshield at the silent warehouse a hundred yards away.

“He’s inside. He’s streaming from the office upstairs.”

Adrian nodded slowly, tapping the earpiece nestled in his left ear.

“Marcus, we have a lock on the source,” Adrian said into his mic, referring to his head of security.

“The target is in the northwest corner, upper level of the warehouse.”

A low, crackling voice responded through the earpiece, loud enough for me to hear in the quiet cabin.

“Understood, Mr. Romano. Teams Alpha and Beta are in position around the perimeter.”

“Hold your entry,” Adrian commanded. “No one moves until we confirm the asset is secure.”