Chapter 6: Contact

The driver’s words landed between the three of them without echo. Clean sweep. Lucius’s order. No exceptions.

Harry reached first. His fingers closed around Dracona’s forearm and pulled sideways, toward the rear of the sedan where the container would cut the line of sight. She moved with him, pistol still in her right hand, phone clutched in her left. The driver stayed by his open window.

“They’re two minutes out,” he said. “East service lane. Both families.”

Harry kept low against the wheel well.

“We take the sedan,” Dracona said. Her voice stayed level. “Hale’s last address on file. We need the original transmission log before any sweep reaches it.”

The driver gave one short nod. “The car stays hot for twenty minutes. After that, the plates are burned.”

She slid into the driver seat without another word. Harry took the passenger side. The engine caught on the second turn and they rolled past the container, headlights still dark.

Inside the car the only light came from the dash clock and her phone screen where the account link remained open. She kept one hand on the wheel and opened the message thread with her free thumb. Harry’s phone was already in his palm.

“Contact your people,” she said. “Verify the sweep. I need confirmation it’s Lucius’s order and not a planted signal.”

Harry scrolled through a short list, thumb pausing at one entry.

“Marcus’s backup line still routes through the rail office,” he said. “If the sweep went out, someone on payroll will have answered it.”

He typed a single line and sent it. The reply light stayed gray for three blocks. Dracona took the next left onto an access road that ran parallel to the old tracks. No traffic cameras monitored this stretch. The sedan’s tires hummed over cracked asphalt.

Her own phone vibrated once. A network ping from the same server that had flagged her earlier. She closed the connection before the query completed.

The rail underpass appeared ahead. Concrete pillars framed both sides with rust stains running down from the joints. She pulled the car beneath the overhang, killed the engine, and left the keys in place. The space felt enclosed enough to check the link without immediate exposure.

Harry’s phone lit up. A short reply: sweep active, two teams, no names attached.

“Read it,” she said.

“Active, two teams, no names.” He held the screen toward her. “That doesn’t rule out planted orders.”

Dracona reopened the account link on her own device. The holding company identifier loaded again, same routing sequence that had matched the pier codes. She cross-checked the timestamp on the original transmission. The metadata showed the same three carriers Hale had used.

“Still points inside my side,” she said. “Not enough for proof yet.”

She closed the screen and started the engine again. The sedan reversed out from under the concrete and turned back onto the service road. Harry kept the burner in his hand, waiting for another message.

Dracona checked the rearview mirror at the next intersection. Two blocks behind them a dark sedan held steady distance. The vehicle matched the body style her father’s security detail used on standard runs. She noted the spacing, the way the headlights stayed low, and the single passenger visible in silhouette.

She took the next right instead of continuing straight. The tail car followed the turn two seconds later.

Harry glanced at the mirror. “Problem?”

“Car two blocks back,” she said. “Matches my father’s fleet.”

She cut across an empty lot and onto a narrower service lane. The tail followed without hesitation. Her phone vibrated again with another server ping. She killed the connection once more.

Harry’s burner lit up with a second message. He read it aloud.

“Teams moving toward Hale’s building already.”

Dracona pressed harder on the accelerator. The tail maintained distance. She reached the next crossroads and turned left sharply, tires scraping the curb. The tail car matched the turn.

She checked the side mirror once. The vehicle stayed exactly two blocks behind, headlights steady, no attempt to close or overtake.

Her phone screen still showed the account link open. The holding company identifier refreshed once more on its own. The same routing sequence appeared. She closed the device and dropped it into the cup holder.

Harry kept the burner ready. The tail showed no sign of breaking off. She made another left at the following block. The second car followed without gap.