DAX'S POV
Marcus had the location verified by the following morning.
Not a compound. Not a fortified estate with visible security presence — a townhouse on a quiet residential street in the northern part of the city. Well-maintained. Unremarkable. The property of a person who had spent decades making unremarkability into a deliberate and sustainable strategy.
Dax looked at the address. He had expected something larger. The scale of what had been built over forty-seven years suggested, in some part of his thinking, a physical infrastructure to match it. The quiet street declined to cooperate with that expectation.
He'd told Remi at breakfast.
She had argued — well, and precisely, in the specific way she argued things that mattered: identifying the actual variables, addressing them in o
