Hidden Identity

pte

eteran's

d notebooks filled with shorthand no civilian could decipher. But beneath the tattered trench coat and calloused exterior was a

rnment corruption. In practice, he was a ghost-untraceable, invisible, efficient. His job now? Investigate the sudden movement of offshor

hen he was handed a file cont

's bank. It had bounced through multiple encrypted tunnels, landed in Interpol's cybercrime w

l logs. Her connections to Razor a covert intelligence faction disbanded after a failed operation in Damascus were vague but telling. Philip Morina wasn'

through the first allegations, the long hours, even the gambling. But when their only child died

pay debts, and though he never touched dirty money, his silence had kept worse men afloat. Still, his badge stay

d vault, and the only thing

sports in a two-day window. Twice, she entered buildings without surveillance access places wiped clean of

omething access, authority, or information and she

ected to former Razor field operatives, and a whisper of a new black-budget tech w

t has

clearance to international asset vaults. If he unknowingly held Citrine's activat

e clear: Observe. R

n came t

tion of

n him faster than predicted. Razor may be ope

vising even more. But he hated seeing men like Philip being chewed and spa

eeds. She was already in

aded his backup piece, a

d moved through the shadows like water. The surveillance

th walked to the window, her silhouette cutting across the city's lights. She was naked beneath a silk robe.

n zoo

down, whisper into Mo

ssed him. Lo

eath. It's the cover. Not

hing. Brian couldn't hear the words, but he

abeth

d just tw

over. The smile of someone trained to

overed over the t

the black duffel she'd hidden beneath

steps. One. Two.

s eyes

ove. Not f

Philip never saw it co

d out of t