Chapter Four: Fifty Million Dollars

Sophia Laurent stood near a dead ticket machine in a black trench coat, her short hair damp, her blue-gray eyes as steady as a camera lens. "You're younger than the files suggested," she said. "You're bolder than the warning suggested." Sophia held a memory card between two fingers. "Mason left more than a recording. Before Nightglass, he traced the live coordinates of your team to a private military contractor. The payment moved through twelve shell companies and ended inside a charitable foundation in Washington." "Rourke's foundation." She did not hide her surprise. "Dead men do their homework." Ethan did not take the card. "Why find me?"