JULIAN

Cole called at three forty-seven in the morning. "We have a confirmed location," she said. "Warehouse on the Astoria waterfront, our surveillance team has eyes on the building. There's activity consistent with multiple occupants."

I was already standing. Blake looked up from his laptop across the table and David straightened in his chair.

"We're moving in ninety minutes," Cole continued. "Mr. Cross, I need you to understand something clearly. You cannot be part of the entry team."

"I'm coming to the location," I said. It wasn't negotiable.

There was a pause. "You can be present at the perimeter," Cole said carefully. "But you stay behind the line. Those are...