Investigators had confirmed enough irregularities to treat the matter as a deliberate attack.
They had not yet identified who ordered it.
The white cargo van had been found abandoned before dawn.
The stolen plate led nowhere immediate.
The dark vehicle at the junction was gone.
Cameras had captured fragments but no clean identification.
Marcus hated fragments.
Victoria stood at the window overlooking the waking city.
“Board meeting still happens.”
Marcus did not look up.
“No.”
She turned.
“That wasn't a request.”
“Then consider this insubordination.”
“Marcus.”
“Somebody had your route.”
“We don't know from where.”
“Exactly.”
“I will not disappear because somebody wants me frightened.”
“This has moved beyond frightened.”
He dropped a photograph onto the table.
“You were supposed to be dead.”
Victoria stared at the image.
Marcus continued.
“If Rowan hadn't stopped—”
“But he did.”
Marcus shook his head.
“That is not a security plan.”
She looked toward the rain clearing beyond the glass.
“No.”
“It is not.”
She paused.
“Find out who knew the route.”
“We already started.”
“And Daniel?”
Marcus hesitated.
“What about him?”
“He was the person on the phone while I was at the fuel stop.”
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“I know.”
Marcus studied her.
“Don't start seeing enemies everywhere.”
Victoria gave him a tired smile.
“That's rich coming from you.”
“My job requires it.”
“Mine apparently does now too.”
Marcus looked at the clock.
5:58 a.m.
Then at a photograph of Elias Rowan retrieved from a basic records search.
Forty-one years old.
No criminal history.
Registered small business.
Former systems engineer for a defense logistics contractor.
Multiple technical certifications.
Years of overseas deployment support.
Then abruptly almost nothing.
No prestigious consulting.
No government advisory work.
No high-level security career.
Just a small repair operation, local fleet jobs, and a modest home outside the city.
Marcus stared at the résumé.
Victoria noticed.
“What?”
“He was telling the truth.”
“You doubted him.”
“It's my job.”
“You use that sentence a lot.”
“He walked away from serious money.”
“So?”
Marcus scrolled.
“Guys with this background don't usually end up repairing transmissions in parking lots.”
Victoria looked toward the file.
“You heard him.”
“His daughter.”
Marcus nodded.
“That was true too.”
He found an old employment transition record.
“Left during a family-care period.”
Victoria went quiet.
Marcus closed the file.
“You know what bothers me?”
“What?”
“The people behind this studied us.”
“Our vehicles.”
“Our route.”
“Our staffing.”
“Our procedures.”
He looked at Victoria.
“They studied everything they thought mattered.”
“And?”
“They never considered him.”
Victoria looked toward the city beyond the glass.
“The mechanic.”
“Yeah.”
She smiled faintly.
“That was their mistake.”
Back at home, Elias finally got Lena ready for school.
He had slept twenty-eight minutes sitting upright on the couch.
Lena found him there with his arms crossed and coffee untouched beside him.
“You're supposed to sleep in a bed.”
“So I've heard.”
“You look old.”
“Cruel.”
“Forty-one is old.”
“You're walking to school alone.”
She grinned.
He made breakfast anyway.
Packed her lunch.