The port’s warehouse loomed like a fortress under the storm’s flickering lightning, the air thick with the acrid scent of burning crates from the protest distraction. 

Lena Hart—Eleanor Whitmore—stood frozen, her heart pounding, the key to locker 47 and her father’s coded letter pressed against her chest in her jacket, alongside the duffel bag of vault contents: files, recordings, and a USB drive labeled: For Ellie. 

The mysterious woman’s knife glinted, her ...