Cassian’s POV

The room was heavy with tension as Senator Marchand and I stood over the holographic map projected across the desk. The city streets glimmered in faint blue light, dotted with surveillance markers and routes that the kidnappers’ van might have taken. Marchand was impatient, pacing like a caged animal while I tried to focus on every detail.

“We caught part of the van’s license plate on one of the cameras,” he said sharply, pointing to the screen. “It passed through ...