The man in the gray coat waited until Hale’s taillights disappeared completely, then put the car in gear and eased out into the street. His movements were deliberate — not hurried, not cautious — the kind of calm that came from knowing every piece of the game was already in motion.

He drove south toward the waterfront, headlights slicing through the fog. The harbor loomed ahead — cranes motionless against the skyline, cargo containers stacked like tombstones.

He parked in the shadows ...