Rain hammered the corrugated roof in heavy, uneven rhythms. Every drop seemed to echo louder than the last. The air inside the bunker was damp and electric — charged with the lingering pulse of the Echo case on the floor between them.

Hale and Gray faced each other across the narrow space, pistols drawn, each framed in cold blue light.

Gray’s coat was slick with rain, his expression unreadable — a man carved from discipline and shadows. The faint hum of the Echo’s residual energy ...