Anan’s POV

…

The captain laid it out without softening the edges.

We were in the small strategy room three days after the presentation disaster, with only the core team sitting around the table—Jones, the older supervisor, two senior officers I trusted, and me. 

A single photograph sat in the centre of the table, showing a man with cold eyes and the kind of stillness that came from never having to raise his own voice.

“He’s careful,” the captain said. “No direct meetings with known associates, and no electronic trails we can use. But he has a pattern with certain types of companions—attractive, submissive in private, and disposable afterwards.”

He...