The sun is barely above the horizon as I pull into the abandoned roadside diner where Atlas agreed to meet us and the empty parking lot feels far too ordinary for a place carrying the weight of decades worth of secrets.
A faded sign creaks softly above the building while weeds push through cracks in the asphalt, and if someone happened to drive past, they would probably think the place had been deserted for years.
That illusion is exactly what Wayne wants. Federal investigators are already positioned around the property, although none of them are visible unless you know where to look. Hidden vehicles sit behind nearby tree lines, surveillance teams occupy rooftops overlooking the highway, and tactical units quietly wait for a signal that hopefully never comes.
Nobody wants today to end
