The secure debriefing room in Marcus's private facility looked like something from a spy thriller—soundproof walls, electronic signal blocking, and enough surveillance equipment to monitor a small army. The recording from my meeting with Damian played on multiple screens while technical specialists analyzed every word, every inflection, every background sound for hidden intelligence.
"It's good," Marcus announced after the third play through. "Legally actionable threats, direct references to a larger organization, admission of conspiracy to commit fraud. But..."
"But?" Sterling prompted.
"But it's almost too good. Too clean. Like he wanted to be recorded saying these things."
I'd been thinking the same thing during the entire trip back to Manhattan. Damian was too smart, too careful, t
