The silence in the empty doctor’s office was thick enough to choke on. Michael stood by the window, the city’s indifferent glow painting his profile in shades of charcoal and steel. The voice on his private secure line, that of Dominic Vane, his most trusted fixer and former military comrade, was a grim rasp in his ear.

“You mean the ‘Corsica Pipeline’ case?” Dominic’s tone was devoid of its usual dark humor. “That wasn’t the case, Michael. It was a warzone. And you were the ...